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‘Not least that we look like country dowds!’ Leonora’s eyes flashed. ‘Even with our newly bought fashions!’

Mr Lockwood looked down at them. ‘If that’s the case, I’m all for country dowds. To my eye, you both look entirely charming, no one better.’

Charlotte’s indignation was still raw. ‘And she said that my father was more worthy to survive at Corunna and it should have been Lord Rokeby to be killed! Leonora scolded her for saying such a thing.’ Leonora was sorry that Charlotte had brought this up. It was still so shocking to her she did not wish to give it any more thought.

George Lockwood looked across at Leonora’s pained face and said in an equable way, ‘Any death in war is a tragedy. Those of us who have not been through that particular horror have little right to opine on it, I would think.’

Leonora was grateful to him for his measured reply, and they all walked on in companionable silence, Titan clip-clopping peaceably beside them. George Lockwood stopped. ‘It’s just occurred to me. My stepfather, Beau Beacham, holds a monthly party with dancing and cards during the Season and his first is at the end of the month. I usually escape to my club but if you’ll attend, it becomes a much more attractive proposition.’

Charlotte’s bright face broke into the widest smile. ‘Oh good! We have no invitations yet. Grandmama will be pleased.’

George Lockwood let out a snort of laughter. ‘It depends how much of a stickler she is. The Beau runs with a raffish crowd; not everyone he invites would delight a matron seeking a match for a beloved relation.’

Charlotte replied, ‘I don’t think Lady Bucklebury would deem me a “beloved relation” by any measure.’

Leonora’s responsibility for Charlotte settled more heavily on her shoulders. ‘Will Lord Dearlove be there?’ She hoped to put her mind at ease with the presence of some respectable attendees.

‘My stepfather is nothing if not up to all the tricks. He attaches himself to whomsoever might do him good by reputation or deed. Yes, Rufus Dearlove is likely to be there. Beau’s cellar is legendary.’

‘And Captain Ormonde?’

‘That dapper dog seems to turn up wherever there’s free champagne and pretty women. My stepfather rates him highly for his charm. I think he’d prefer him for a son; I’m afraid I’m an eternal disappointment to him.’ They had reached Grosvenor Gate and the Park was filling up with horses and carriages. ‘Would you like me to escort you back to Brook Street?’

‘It’s such a short walk from here, I think we’ll manage. Thank you, Mr Lockwood.’

Leonora turned towards Grosvenor Square, but Charlotte seemed reluctant to leave his side and looked up eagerly into his face as she said, ‘It has been so good to see you again, Mr Lockwood. You will be at Mr Beacham’s ball, won’t you?’

His blue eyes met hers, limpid and dark brown, in striking contrast with her fair skin and hair. He paused and did not answer or look away, as if for that moment mesmerised. Charlotte touched his arm and with an imperceptible shake of his head, he responded, ‘I will indeed. I shall look forward to seeing you both then. The Beau lives in Davies Street, with an unmistakeable silver front door.’ Doffing his hat, he mounted Titan and trotted off, a dark, imperious silhouette against the sun.

Leonora had watched this exchange and was intrigued. Was that the point when George Lockwood really saw Charlotte for who she was? She hugged herself, not just due to the cold. They walked back as briskly as they could, suddenly longing for some warming drink and a pastry. As they entered the Bucklebury mansion, they were delighted to find that breakfast was still in progress, with Mrs Priddy sitting with a cup of coffee talking in a desultory way to the Countess. The lady appeared much less imperious in her undress, wearing just a man’s navy-blue silk banyan, tied at the front, with her nightcap still on her head.

Tossing off her bonnet and pelisse, Charlotte rushed into the breakfast room. ‘We have our first invitation!’

Mrs Priddy put down her cup. ‘Good morning, Miss Charlotte; Nora my dear.’ Her voice was as close as it ever came to admonishment.

Charlotte blushed. ‘Oh apologies, Grandmama and Nanny P. Good morning, I hope you both slept well?’

‘Tolerably, my dear.’ Lady Bucklebury indicated the coffee pot. ‘Do help yourself to more breakfast. We won’t eat again until this evening.’

Leonora kissed Nanny P on the cheek and wished Lady Bucklebury a good morning. As she took a chair she said, ‘Hyde Park is full of interest and activity.’

‘So I surmise.’ Lady Bucklebury’s voice was dry. ‘So who did you meet and where is this party to be held?’

Charlotte reached for a roll and said, ‘We met Mr Lockwood who is the heir to Miss Appleby’s father’s estate at Hasterleigh. His stepfather Beau Beacham has a monthly rout, the first one is at the end of the month. And we’re invited!’

The Countess’s mouth turned down. ‘Well, my dear, this is only partially good news. Beacham’s gatherings are half beau monde and half disreputables. I can only countenance your going if you are closely accompanied by Mrs Priddy. Miss Appleby is chaperone enough in safe environments, but Beau Beacham’s world is full of libertines and reprobates and you need a more experienced chaperone.’

Both young women glanced at Nanny P whose face was inscrutable. The Countess continued. ‘Mrs Priddy suggested I may have been a bit harsh yesterday in my assessment of your prospects. I have lived so long and seen so many innocent bright-faced girls brought to disappointment, in some cases ruin, that I wished to disabuse you of any romantic fancies you might have.’

‘We are grateful, Lady Bucklebury, for your care towards us and realise we have much to learn.’ Leonora noticed Nanny P nodding as she spoke. She poured a cup of coffee for herself and Charlotte as Lady Bucklebury’s brilliant eyes settled on her great-granddaughter’s face.

‘My goodness, your cheeks are so rosy you look quite bucolic. I think a touch of lilac powder will give you a more flattering pallor. I’ll get Amy to pass on some of mine.’

Leonora and Charlotte caught each other’s eyes, widened with surprise. Their cheeks were pink from the cold but they were used to looking ‘healthy’, as Nanny P called it. It seemed the Countess was not done yet with her improvements and advice. ‘When a man is introduced to you, it is not advised that you meet his eyes directly. Men are like dogs; it’s challenging to have a new acquaintance stare into their faces. Turn your head slightly and look askance, through your eyelashes. This is a more becoming address for a young woman.’

Leonora and Charlotte tried hard to suppress a giggle. Leonora turned to Nanny P, her head drooping slightly as she glanced at her through her eyelashes. Mrs Priddy gave her a reproving frown.

The Countess folded her hands as she continued, ‘Now finally, a more delicate matter.’