He answered the door again, prepared to send another reporter away, but it was the earl’s footman who stood there. He handed Phil the letter and the little jeweller’s box. ‘My Lady Rose requested me to give these to Captain Cathcart.’

Phil took the letter and box in to where Harry was sitting at his desk in the parlour.

‘From Lady Rose,’ said Phil.

Harry looked bleakly at the letter and then at the jeweller’s box. ‘Thank you, Phil, that will be all.’

‘Right, guv.’ Phil backed out of the room as if before royalty.

Harry opened the jeweller’s box. The ring he had given Rose sparkled up at him.

He broke open the seal on the letter. He read: ‘Dear Captain Cathcart, As you have once again shown your indifference to me by failing to escort me last night or even to send an apology, I am terminating our engagement. This will be best for both of us. Yours sincerely, Rose Summer.’

‘The hell with her,’ said Harry out loud. ‘Now I need never be hurt again!’

Daisy hurried upstairs, clutching the Evening News. She erupted into Rose’s sitting-room, crying, ‘You’ll never believe it!’

‘What is it, Daisy?’ Rose was slumped in an armchair by the fire.

‘It’s about the captain. He’s a hero. Oh, if only they had got Becket’s name!’

‘Let me see that newspaper.’

Daisy handed it over. Rose read the story of Harry’s bravery with increasing horror.

She turned a white face up to Daisy. ‘I have just written to him sending his ring back and Matthew has sent a notice to the Times cancelling our engagement.’

‘Why?’ shrieked Daisy.

‘Because he did not attend me last night. I thought he was snubbing me.’

‘Cancel the notice!’

‘I can’t,’ said Rose dismally. ‘It’s done. It’s for the best.’

‘You fool,’ said Daisy bitterly. ‘You bloody little fool.’ She burst into tears and fled from the room.

Rose was in more disgrace than she had been when her photograph had appeared once on the front page of the Daily Mail showing her attending a suffragette rally. She had jilted England’s latest hero. The announcement had appeared in the Times and the gossipy papers had recognized a story. All the facts of Dolly’s murder were dragged up again. A nasty bit of speculation began to run through society, that someone as unstable as Lady Rose Summer might have killed Dolly herself in a fit of jealous rage.

Daisy was angry with her, wondering if she would ever see Becket again. Three days after the announcement Daisy felt she could not bear it any longer and slipped out of the house and took a hansom to Chelsea.

When Becket answered the door, Daisy burst into tears and fell into his arms.

He drew her gently inside, saying, ‘Please don’t cry. We’ll think of something.’

At last, Daisy, fortified with hot gin, gulped and said, ‘My lady is in such disgrace. Some people are beginning to think she might have murdered Dolly herself.’