‘I can waltz.’ He felt vaguely stung by the suggestion that he was either so old, or so unfashionable, that he could not do so.

‘Oh.’ Henrietta actually blushed.

‘Show me your dance card.’ She held it out to him, and he took it, his fingers touching hers. ‘I am fortunate, I see, to find you have any dances free. Do your feet ache after an evening here?’

‘A little, I confess, but it is worth it.’ She dimpled. ‘I found out early on it is far better to have sore feet than be a wallflower, and spend the evening watching others dance.’

‘And have you promised yourself to anyone?’ There was the merest hint of a pause. ‘To go into supper, I mean.’

‘Yes, but I wish I had not, for I would far rather be with you.’ His heart leapt, but her next words dashed him. ‘For you can tell me how everyone is at home.’ Her smile was bright.

‘If you are not engaged tomorrow morning, I might come to South Audley Street, and give you all the news.’

‘Oh yes. That would be wonderful …’ She waited a moment and stressed, ‘my lord.’ Her eyes danced, and her voice dropped a little. ‘I have missed home, and Papa, so much. You sort of bring them with you. Thank you.’

He wished she had said that she had missed him. He bowed as Lord Martley came to claim her, and watched them as they took their places in the set. They made a good couple. Martley, of whom he knew little other than what he had managed to learn from Lord Gorleston, was tall, but only the most critical would have called him ‘gangly’, and he was young, and fresh-faced. He could not know what Henrietta was thinking at that moment, which was that suddenly, Lord Martley looked ‘too young’.

Henrietta was a good dancer, with natural musicality, and she had attended the dancing master engaged by her aunt most attentively. It enabled her to indeed dance without having to think of the steps, which was, at this moment, very useful. Charles’s unexpected arrival had thrown her mind into a whirl.

Her first emotion, after total surprise, was a great wave of homesickness. She missed Papa, and even the quietness and routine, though she had put such thoughts to the back of her mind since arriving in London. As she took Lord Martley’s hand, however, she realised that it was not just what Charles represented that she had missed, but also his own person. He had always been there in her life, supporting, and even guiding, although she had railed against that often enough. Having him appear in London unsettled her, for she was both delighted to see him, and vaguely disquieted, in case he ‘disapproved’ of her gadding about.

‘You look quite solemn, Miss Gaydon,’ remarked Lord Martley, as the dance brought them together again.