She had no pushing mama to make her life a misery. She had seen so many debutantes, shy, demure, strait-laced and red-elbowed, forced to frisk and talk slang and wear wide-awakes and behave like the veriest Cyprians by their ambitious mothers.

The routs were the worst. There were often not even cards or dancing—only a tedious time crowding up a staircase to be received by the host and hostess, enduring the hard-eyed stares of the haut ton, and then fighting all the way back down again to endure a two-hour wait on the front steps for one’s carriage to battle its way through the press.

Alice sighed. Her life seemed fated to be spent either among the highest in the land or the very lowest.

The carriage rattled to a halt in front of an imposing mansion facing Hyde Park. They had arrived.

“Now,” whispered the Duke as he helped her to alight. “Head up! No one will take you for a scullery maid unless you behave like one.”

Alice, head held high, swept in on the arm of the Duke. She was dimly aware of their being announced—“Monsieur Le Comte de Sous-Savaronne and La Comtesse de la Valle-Chenevix—” and of Miss Fadden, trotting behind, her mouth wide open as she stared about her at the flowers and hangings and jewels of the guests.

Then, facing her, were the Duke and Duchess of Haversham, just as she remembered them. Her heart seemed to miss a beat but they bade the Duke and Alice a chilly welcome with their customary indifference.

The ghost murmured something polite and then they were descending the stairs to the ballroom.

Alice forced herself to look at the guests. As far as she could see there was no sign of Lord Webb. Then she turned her attention to the servants. Not one familiar face.

She heaved a sigh of relief and decided to try to enjoy the evening.

“Will you dance with me?” Alice asked the Duke shyly.

“Of course not, you silly goose,” he said. “You are here to dance with much younger men than I. Ah, here come some of your admirers. I will make myself scarce.”

Alice half put out her hand to hold him back and then let it fall helplessly to her side. A fleeting look of lost bewilderment crossed her face and for a split second she looked very young and afraid.

That was when Mr. Bessant saw her. The Groom of the Chambers was looking down into the ballroom to observe the guests. He stiffened and grasped the rail of the banisters tightly, craning his head forward.