‘I issued my decision on the day I was asked and will not change my mind, Mary. I will not; I cannot. That is the command of your father – to you, the highest power on this earth, beneath only Him who sits as our Ultimate Arbiter.

‘You cannot challenge me now, for that I can never forgive.’ Did his voice crack then with emotion, or just ugly, hot rage? ‘This family would fall into chaos. You are the eldest – remember it! The first of you all to face this decision, and as such must tread with good care, ever mindful of the example that you set for your siblings.’ He flung down the pages and balled his fists in aggression. ‘In particular, the example you set for your sister!’

‘But—’ Mary was about to protest that she had not a sister, and then she remembered. Was she seriously expected to put the moral interests of that baby above her own happiness? Would he truly throw over Mary for her? She refused to believe it.

‘Father, all my life I have honoured you.’ Her words were carefully chosen. ‘Though it may, at times, have felt like a challenge, I have tried desperately to obey your every stricture and I have done so with love.’ Her message acute. ‘So now, pray, I beg that you hear and believe it when I tell you that any action by me in defiance of your wishes will cause me great pain and regret. I have never wanted to hurt you, and nor do I now.’

It was a forewarning of her coming apostasy. Of course, he heard only compliance. She had deliberately eschewed any use of the conditional; yet he, in his arrogance, chose to presume it was there.

‘Thank you, my dear.’ Her father patted her arm, complacent; sent Mary off on her way.

And there the interview ended, with each party convinced that its own case had been clearly made.

Mary was in her room and still trembling when Marianne came up to find her.

‘Dear girl, do not take on so.’ Miss Knight rushed to the bed to embrace her. ‘All will be well in the end, I am sure of it.’ She kissed Mary’s head and clasped her hands. ‘I just came to ask when you might next visit your aunt, Lady Banks? She sounds a most interesting lady and I should so like to meet her.’

‘Oh.’ Mary sniffed. ‘Yes, of course. She expects me on Thursday about three after noon.’

‘Excellent!’ Marianne exclaimed, satisfied. ‘But what a shame, I shall not be free.’

It was only on entering the Portland Place drawing room that Mary realised Marianne Knight was not, after all, in the employ of her parents but was, in fact, in alliance with Ned. For there he was, long legs stretched out from the chair by the fire, with Lady Banks sitting across from him, enthralled.