‘I say, Miss Gaydon, you are not expecting us to squire you to every place mentioned in that book, I hope,’ complained Lord Martley, with a broad smile. ‘I do not think the Season long enough, and if you were out every day seeking them, you would be positively exhausted come the evenings, and unable to dance until the small hours. That would never do.’

‘Oh, I assure you that I will be most selective, my lord. However, if you cry craven, I can always ask Lord Henfield to oblige.’ She cast a look at Lord Henfield that was full of mischief. It made him think of Henry as she had been, but his smile was wry and Lady Sorley’s evening not forgotten.

‘You see her intent, Martley? She wants nothing less than us to end up with pistols at dawn over the right to escort her to the dullest locations in London.’

‘Any good with a pistol, Henfield?’ Lord Martley cocked an eye at him.

‘I confess I have experience with a shotgun rather than a duelling pistol.’

‘Then I will remember not to choose “shotguns at dawn”.’

‘Ah, but think of the advantage. We could both delope into the air and bring back some wood pigeon or rabbit for dinner.’ Lord Henfield, despite himself, grinned.

‘I do not think that very gallant, gentlemen.’ Henrietta lifted her chin. ‘You would prefer rough shooting to a duel for the honour of my presence?’ Her lips twitched.

‘One has to be practical, Miss Gaydon,’ murmured Lord Henfield.

‘And to be honest, I would far rather put lead into something edible than Henfield here.’

‘I would prove rather tough, I admit.’

‘Eugh, how horrible!’ cried Caroline.

‘Yes, I rather think he might be,’ agreed Henrietta, and giggled.

This morning she was feeling more as she always had with Charles, and it lightened her spirits, as long as she kept from considering Mr Newbold’s words.

Lady Elstead, finding it hard to keep up with the levity, announced, in repressive tones, that she did not hold with duelling.

‘Quite right, ma’am.’ Lord Martley managed to look ‘saintly’, as Henrietta described it, when she exchanged words with him as he handed her down from the carriage at the Tower.

It was agreed that the barouche should return at two o’clock, which ought to leave plenty of time for viewing the historical, the regal and the animal. Caroline shuddered as they passed into the Tower precincts, with its looming walls.

‘Are you chilled, Miss Felbridge?’ enquired Lord Martley solicitously. ‘We shall be out into the open sunshine in but a few moments.’

‘Oh no, it is just, when you think of the poor people who have entered and never left … It is most gruesome. One cannot but feel terribly sorry for them.’

‘Best not think about that aspect, ma’am. No point in upsetting yourself over people dead for centuries. All very nasty at the time but …’