‘Is it not marvellous?’ Cassandra pressed her face to the window – she saw no benefit in hiding – and studied the multitudes lining the streets. ‘Just listen to the roar! All these kind people, cheering the couple. Desperate for a glimpse of the future Lady George Hill.’

‘Poor little creature.’ Fanny shuddered, with a hand to her face to obscure public view. ‘I cannot imagine she wanted something so vulgar.’

‘Possibly not,’ Cassandra conceded. ‘But she is happy with her match, and that is all that matters.’

‘I still do not quite understand how it all came about so very suddenly,’ Fanny declared as she fiddled with her reticule. ‘We sent her to Chawton to get rid of one fiancé, only to find her return with another.’ She shuddered. ‘Of course, one must blame oneself – as usual. I should never have let her go off to Hampshire alone. It all seems to have got rather giddy.’

It was only then that Cassandra understood Fanny’s nose to be quite out of joint – after all, a lord was one up from a baronet. ‘We have Mary to thank for it all,’ she explained – as if to be helpful, while knowing that she was, in fact, adding further insult. ‘As soon as Cassy gave up the first gentleman, Mary did her research – discovered his lordship still single – and invited him down to Chawton. Was that not inspired? The whole business was settled in a matter of days.’

They were now on the approach into Hanover Square; the procession had slowed – they were caught in a queue of conveyances – and the cheering had grown even louder.

‘So very clever of her,’ Cassandra went on. ‘Do you not agree?’

Fanny stared straight ahead at the back of the coachman. The air in the carriage became frigid, until Fanny finally spoke.

‘I hear you and Mary are now rather close?’ She sighed. ‘I confess, I am happy for it. As the years go on and the horrible shock of her departure fades in the memory, I find myself—’ She started to stutter. ‘I cannot escape the suspicion—’ The words were not coming easily until, at last, she exclaimed: ‘As a mother, I failed her.’

‘Oh, dear Fan.’ Cassandra reached for a hand and patted it. It felt like a return to their intimacy of old. ‘Mary has never accused you in my hearing. Nor does she speak ill of her father.’

But at mention of Sir Edward, Fanny became Lady Knatchbull once more. ‘My husband is a good man, Aunt Cassandra.’ She withdrew her hand from her aunt’s reach. ‘A great man of high virtue.’

‘I have no doubt.’ Cassandra had met him but briefly, and only had hearsay to judge, though that seemed conclusive. She returned to the window, and the gaiety of the sightseers. She really would rather be delighting in the day.