‘I believe you must be my cousin James,’ said Henrietta, making her curtsey and then offering him her hand. She had expected him to shake it, but he, after a moment’s hesitation, bent over it and kissed it rather formally. Henrietta looked surprised. ‘Oh.’

‘Indeed, and mighty honoured I am to make your acquaintance, Cousin Henrietta. I was told you had arrived, but that you were fatigued by the journey.’

‘Alas, I must sound very feeble.’

‘Not at all. Long way from Staffordshire, and …’

‘Shropshire,’ she corrected.

‘Long way from there too. You must have been fagged to death. You are recovered now, though?’

‘Oh yes, and my appetite has returned also.’

‘Appetite … breakfast, yes, must eat.’ He showed her the selection of covered dishes, and was most attentive, to the point where she reminded him that his own breakfast was being neglected.

‘It is of no matter, cousin.’

‘You say that, but wait until your eggs are cold and congealed and you will not think so.’ Henrietta smiled, and a dimple peeped.

When Lady Elstead entered the parlour a few minutes later it was to find the son and heir already in a fair way to being besotted, which was a thing she had not for an instant considered. Her arrival curtailed his adoration, and she had no compunction in dismissing him upon the excuse that he had evidently finished eating and she wished to discuss the day’s plan with Henrietta. Once he had withdrawn, her ladyship settled herself with tea and toast, and looked at her niece.

‘So, my dear. You look to be recovered.’

‘Indeed, ma’am, I feel very much more the thing this morning and can only apologise if I seemed …’

‘No, no, my dear child.’ Her aunt raised a hand. ‘I perfectly understand how exhausted you must have felt.’ There was a short pause. ‘You have not been to London before, have you.’

‘No, ma’am, no further than Grandmama Gaydon, in Cheshire.’

‘Well, I have no doubt it will seem very strange at the first, but you will soon get used to it. You must, of course, remember that going about alone is unthinkable, not as at home, where I am sure you were at liberty to exercise unescorted. Wherever you go, if you are not accompanied by myself, or another chaperone, you must take a maid, or a footman. To appear “forward” is an unforgivable sin in the eyes of society, and would blight any chance you have of making a suitable connection.’