‘Yes, and what is more, if that particular mess is sorted out, your Henrietta’ – she raised a hand before he could interject – ‘I say again, your Henrietta will be made happy, and happier still when you reveal that it was you who set the resolution in motion.’

‘But I had no idea …’

‘That, sir, is immaterial. Now, go away and do not shoot anything. I have to prepare for a morning call upon Maria Elstead this afternoon. I am going to enjoy myself, very much.’ Lady Vernham smiled at him, in a way that made him feel, just for a fraction of a second, sorry for Lady Elstead.

CHAPTER TWENTY

At two minutes to three, Lady Vernham stood in the vestibule of the Elstead house in South Audley Street, having sent up her card. Barlow returned with the information that the ladies were receiving visitors. Her ladyship removed her gloves, and handed her parasol to a footman, who was hovering in anticipation.

‘If you will be so good as to follow me, my lady.’ The butler led the way up to the morning room, where Lady Elstead, accompanied by Caroline, and a hastily summoned Henrietta, were sitting in attitudes of studied nonchalance as though in mid conversation. Lady Vernham did not so much as bat an eye at the presence of the two girls, both of whom were pallid, and for perhaps ten minutes made general ‘morning call’ small talk. Then, much to Lady Elstead’s amazement, she looked straight at her hostess, whom she thought looked strained, and suggested that the young ladies had better things to do than listen to matriarchal gossip. It was clearly a hint that they ought to withdraw. Lady Elstead, sightly flustered, concocted some excuse which, had it not been but a form of words to all present, would have sounded foolish. Henrietta and Caroline made their curtsies and withdrew, puzzled.

The door closed behind them, and the two older women stared at each other.

‘You know, you have no reason to prevent your girl from marrying Martley.’ Lady Vernham did not believe in circumlocution.

Lady Elstead blinked, and her mouth opened slightly, then shut again. She tried to marshal her thoughts.

‘There are reasons, reasons which must remain private—’ she began, but was interrupted.

‘You are a fool, Maria.’ Lady Vernham shook her head, and Lady Elstead stiffened. ‘You were a beautiful fool, I grant you, even prettier than that nice chit of yours, but a fool. Augusta Paulton was a fool too, of course, but only about men, and learning her lesson has left her very bitter.’

‘I do not wish to discuss this.’

‘No, I am sure that you do not. Nor do I, actually, but since it is influencing another generation, I shall do so.’

‘It is none of your business.’

‘True, but when have things being “our business” stopped us?’ Lady Vernham raised a well-shaped eyebrow. ‘You think Martley is Elstead’s by-blow, do you not?’