Lady Elstead, brought back to consciousness by the administration of smelling salts under her nose, was persuaded to take a cup of tea, which she later described as ‘a ghastly brown liquid which tasted as if its major components were dust and dried hay, and with as much relation to tea as I have to the Empress of Russia’. Having recovered sufficiently to sit up, and say a few gracious, if entirely mendacious, words to Mrs Swifte, she was relieved to find that Lord Henfield had called two hackneys to convey them back to South Audley Street. The gentlemen did not come into the house, but both announced that they would visit upon the following day to see how the ladies did. Lord Henfield looked as though this would not be merely a social visit, and touched Henrietta’s arm as she passed him.

‘I wish to speak with you, Henrietta, tomorrow. Understand.’ He looked most severe. In truth he was shaken not with the physical events, but with Henrietta behaving in so illogical a fashion. He was annoyed with her, and because he disliked the feeling, it was exacerbated as being entirely her fault.

Henrietta simply nodded, but frowned. Charles never called her Henrietta in private unless he was very displeased with her.

Lord Martley was the earlier visitor next day, and brought flowers for Lady Elstead, which she received graciously, if a little coolly, and he was not granted the sight of Caroline. Lady Elstead, having had it borne upon her how caring his lordship had been of her person, was in the awkward position of having to be grateful to a young man she would have preferred to castigate for the crime of … being his mother’s son. His tentative questions as to Miss Felbridge’s well-being were answered calmly, but it was clear that Lady Elstead had no wish for him to linger.

Lord Henfield was, by contrast, greeted with such a degree of gratitude that he became quite embarrassed.

‘I assure you, ma’am, that I did nothing, did not even save Miss Felbridge’s hat.’

‘But the animals might have caused my poor Caroline untold harm!’

‘It is just possible that one might have reached its face far enough to bite her, just.’ Privately, Lord Henfield thought the chances about even, hence his actions, but played them down.

‘And who is to say such a bite, from wild and ferocious beasts with those awful teeth’ – Lady Elstead shuddered – ‘would not have festered? No, no, my lord, you are too modest.’

‘I think, ma’am, you place too much upon the “might have been”. The only casualty was a hat, which can be replaced.’ He did not mention the gown as it felt rather more intimate. ‘I am glad that both you and Miss Felbridge are recovered from the incident, which must have been a nasty shock to your nerves.’