It must be the champagne; something in his tone, the dark suggestiveness of it, thrills Harriet. She wonders what it will be like when he comes to explore her flesh more intimately. He has behaved impeccably towards her so far, of course, though she can’t help but imagine the two of them entwined together, away from parents, propriety, other people’s expectations. How it will feel to be alone, naked, with him –

‘Christie? Fancy finding you here. No, no, don’t get up.’

Her brief drunken reverie is interrupted. Ralph is being hailed by an impressive man in a smart overcoat. Not much older than Ralph, he is probably a politician or a banker, if he knows her fiancé.

Harriet feels her cheeks reddening with embarrassment, as though the lascivious thoughts she had been entertaining had been spoken aloud to this stranger.

‘We were only talking of you the other day.’

‘All good, I hope.’ Ralph leans back in his seat, concerned now with neither his fiancée’s figure nor her flesh. The affable club man again, and fully at ease.

‘What else?’

‘This is my fiancée, Harriet Littlemore. You’ll know her father, Gerald, of course.’

The man nods to Harriet. ‘I do know your father. Charles Haversham, by the way.’

Harriet is used to men knowing her father. She smiles, automatically. ‘How do you do?’

‘You’re having lunch. I shouldn’t interrupt, Ralph, but I’m glad to have spotted you. Will you be at the House later? I wouldn’t mind a word. I have some news on that venture we spoke of. Some interesting developments.’

Ralph pulls a watch from his pocket. He’s not yet taken to wearing a wristwatch – he is convinced they are only for women. This one is gold. A Christie heirloom. He clicks open the case and consults it before glancing up at Harriet. She knows before he opens his mouth, from his expression, what he is likely to say. The soft glow of passion that had been stirring inside her moments ago has already been dampened.

‘I might wander over in an hour or two. Shall I find you in the bar?’

‘Only if I can steal you from your lovely fiancée? I’d hate to be the third wheel…’

‘Not at all. Harriet and I are enjoying a quiet moment of liberation from her parents, but’ – he looks again at Harriet, hesitating, trying to judge her mood – ‘we’ve nearly finished our lunch, and then I’ll need to return her safely to the front door. Mustn’t find myself on the wrong side of my future father-in-law.’ He winks at Harriet. ‘Or my mother-in-law.’

She smiles brightly, masking her disappointment. ‘That would not be a good idea.’

‘Later, then.’ Ralph stands, shakes hands with Charles Haversham and shares some final pleasantries before sitting to resume his meal.

‘A useful man to know, Haversham,’ he tells Harriet, spearing a slice of potato. ‘Good contacts.’