‘As my fiancé has not put in an appearance and we match, I would be honoured if you would escort me.’

‘Delighted and honoured,’ said Peter.

The earl and countess exchanged little smiles. Peter was eligible and very suitable. The captain was not. Surely Rose would break the engagement now.

CHAPTER SIX

For talk six times with the same single lady,
And you may get the wedding dresses ready.

Lord Byron

Astonemason who had been rescued from a third-class carriage along with his wife and two children had demanded at the time to know the name of his rescuer. Harry had simply smiled and run off to try to rescue someone else. But Becket had shouted back, ‘Captain Harry Cathcart.’

One of the stonemason’s sons had a broken arm. Reporters haunting the nearby hospitals began to hear of some hero who had gone from carriage to carriage rescuing people. They came upon the stonemason as he was leaving the hospital with his family, his son’s arm in a splint. He told them that the lives of himself and his family had been saved by a Captain Harry Cathcart.

Daisy slipped out the following day for a walk. She was very troubled. Peter and Rose had won first prize for their costumes. Everyone was talking about what a handsome pair they made.

She walked until she reached Piccadilly. Outside the new Ritz Hotel, a news-vendor was shouting, ‘Read all abaht it! Hero of train crash.’

Daisy was about to walk on when she recognized Harry’s face on the front page. She fumbled in her reticule for her change purse, bought a copy and went into Green Park where she could read it in peace.

The photograph of Harry had been taken a year before at a charity fund-raising garden party. Daisy read in growing horror about the train crash. Becket was referred to only as Harry’s manservant. He could have been killed, she thought, the newspaper trembling in her hands, oblivious to the black ink that was soiling her gloves.

Various friends telephoned the earl to exclaim over Harry’s bravery. He told his wife.

‘Perhaps we will say nothing of this to Rose,’ said Lady Polly. ‘It is better at the moment that she should think he did not care enough about her to attend last night.’

At that moment, Rose entered the drawing-room carrying a letter and a little jeweller’s box.

‘I am returning Captain’s Cathcart’s ring,’ she said. ‘I have written him a letter asking him to release me from the engagement.’

‘It’s all for the best,’ said Lady Polly. ‘I’ll get John footman to take it straight to him. Matthew shall send an announcement to the newspapers straight away.’

Harry had told Becket to take the day off. Phil, proud of his temporary position as butler, was answering the door and telling the press in strangulated tones of refinement that the captain was ‘not at home’.

Phil was unrecognizable as the wreck that Harry had first brought home. His skin was clear and healthy and his figure erect. He loved his room and his books. He wished he’d been on that train with the guv’nor and maybe had a chance to rescue him.