In fact, Lord Martley was going for a walk to think, and sitting in his bedchamber felt more like sulking. He dressed with care, despite his preoccupation, and left the house with only the smallest of frowns upon his brow. However, he completely failed to acknowledge a friend passing upon the opposite pavement, narrowly avoided being run over by a man driving a high-perch phaeton, and, upon entering Hyde Park, strolled in an aimless manner for the best part of three quarters of an hour. It was then that he was hailed by a soft feminine voice, and found himself before Miss Felbridge, Miss Gaydon and an accompanying maid, taking a constitutional. It might not be the hour for promenading, but the two young ladies had their heads together and were content in their own company. Miss Gaydon looked pensive, but Miss Felbridge appeared both bright and cheerful. He offered both ladies his escort for a turn about the shrubberies, where his failings as a botanist soon had Miss Felbridge stifling giggles.

‘But are you sure, Miss Felbridge? Not that I am doubting your abilities, but it might be a dandelion in disguise.’

‘I assure you, my lord, that whilst I could not give you the Latin for it, that is definitely a tulip.’

‘That would account for the thrashing I got as a small boy, then. I saw the gardeners pulling up weeds, and so, being an egalitarian sort of little fellow, I thought I would help. What I pulled up were just like those, and my protestations of good intent fell upon deaf ears.’

‘Were you frequently chastised, my lord, for “helping” with things?’ Henrietta found his confessions droll.

‘Lord, yes. You perceive me, the picture of eagerness to assist my fellows in their daily grind, but did they appreciate it? Not a jot. The cook banished me from her kitchen more often than I can recall for licking spoons, and think how much cleaner they are without jam or cream left upon them.’

‘And were any of these spoons still in jars or bowls, my lord?’ Miss Felbridge followed her cousin’s lead.

‘I … cannot deny that on occasion they were.’ Lord Martley grinned. ‘However, I was very useful in the kitchen. I once invented a whole new dish by adding sultanas to a bowl of peas.’

‘Dare we ask what inspired this dish, Lord Martley?’ Henrietta asked.

‘Well, sultanas are sweet and rather nice, and I thought them a similar size to peas, which are just green and a bit boring.’

‘How odd that “peas with sultanas” has not become a staple upon our dining table, cousin,’ commented Henrietta, and bit her lip. Caroline was wiping her eyes, and was so overcome that she dropped her parasol.

Lord Martley picked it up, brushed any traces of dust from it and handed it back to her.

‘Thus were the deeds of the knights of olde, ma’am.’