‘It was a lie in a noble cause, my lord.’

‘And I think an erudite conversation about hats entirely possible,’ added Caroline.

‘If you forgive me that deception, ladies, might I request that you find a place for me upon your dance cards?’ Lord Martley thought this a cunning move, since Lady Elstead could hardly permit him to dance with her niece but demur at his dancing with her daughter.

‘I have the last waltz before supper free, my lord,’ offered Caroline, trying to sound casual.

‘And I have a quadrille immediately afterwards,’ announced Henrietta.

‘Excellent. And since I am to be engaged with you around supper, might I have the pleasure of escorting you, Miss Gaydon?’

‘I …’ Henrietta saw Lord Henfield drawing close, and was inspired. ‘I regret I am already engaged with Lord Henfield, but I am sure my cousin …’

‘If you will accept a second choice, my lord?’ Caroline sounded a little uncertain, with a niggling doubt that Lord Martley really did prefer her cousin.

‘Miss Felbridge, consider me honoured in the extreme. Until the waltz before supper.’ He bowed. ‘Evening, Henfield. Lucky fellow to have Miss Gaydon on your arm into supper.’

Lord Henfield did not bat an eyelid.

‘Exceptionally so.’ He looked straight at Henrietta, and she extended her hand. ‘But you see, Martley, I have to resort to …’ He changed his mind. ‘… playing the card of old acquaintanceship, since I do not possess the suavity of you London types.’ He bowed over her hand.

‘It would not fit over my glove,’ she whispered, and he heard not an excuse but a plea that he should know the truth. He squeezed her fingers very slightly to show he had heard, and understood.

‘Me, suave? Must have the wrong fellow, Henfield.’ Lord Martley shook his head. ‘Newbold can be suave, or Littlehampton, or Netheravon, but I am …’

‘Entertaining, my lord, most entertaining, and without such as yourself the Season would become a terrible bore within weeks.’ Henrietta gave him her brightest smile.

‘If I may entertain, ma’am, I am not without use. Until the waltz before supper, Miss Felbridge.’ He bowed to the three ladies, nodded at Lord Henfield, and threaded his way between the groups of people to speak to Lady Jersey.

‘So, I am to take you in to supper, am I, Miss Gaydon?’ Lord Henfield permitted himself a wry smile. ‘I wonder at the motive, since Lord Martley is, in your own words, “most entertaining”.’

‘You are, my lord,’ declared Henrietta, and ignored the question of her motive. ‘You are also down for the waltz before supper.’