Beatrice felt her blood boil in her veins. That Lord Monker should speak to James Sheppard – the son of a gardener – as if he were a social equal, whilst she was passed over as if she were invisible. It was intolerable!

‘No,’ she said, before James could speak for her. ‘I p-p-present it m-myself. Or n-not at a-all.’

Lord Monker shook his head. ‘It is quite out of the question, I’m afraid.’

He handed the paper back to her. Beatrice had no energy left for speech, so she offered only a curt nod before turning and leaving the room.

‘What a rude woman,’ she heard the secretary exclaim behind her.

‘No manners at all,’ the president agreed.

‘Certainly there was shocking rudeness, sir, but I do not think it was on the part of Lady Beatrice,’ James said, his usual mild tone replaced with one of irritation.

Beatrice ignored them all and didn’t stop until she was out of Burlington House on the streets of Mayfair. There were far too many people about and she longed desperately for solitude. Her carriage was parked a little way down the road and she began to walk towards it, trying to ignore the stares of passers-by. She had become so accustomed to travelling on her own abroad that she had almost forgotten how unacceptable it was for a lady – especially one who was unmarried – to walk unaccompanied in the street in England.

In addition she couldn’t fail to notice that her French walking dress was hopelessly out of fashion. The huge puffed gigot sleeves of only a couple of years ago seemed to have vanished entirely and Beatrice felt suddenly ridiculous, as well as irritated that she should have to bother about such things in the first place. She vaguely recalled Rosa mentioning in one of her letters that the tastes of the new Queen Victoria had drastically changed women’s fashion since she ascended to the throne, but being completely disinterested in the subject, Beatrice hadn’t paid it much attention.

Was it really so much to ask to be able to leave the country for a year or two and return to find the same wardrobe still serviceable? She was rich enough not to be particularly bothered by the expense of ordering a new one, although it still seemed a terrible waste, but the time required for measurings and fittings and the endless choosing of different ribbons and ruffles was the most irksome thing of all.