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Ferdinand Shilton for a moment seemed struck dumb. At dinner the evening before, Corinna had suggested he was in love with Miss Rose and he suddenly realised, seeing her in her plain mourning gown of grey, her hair in a loose untidy bun and the liveliness of her upturned face, that Corinna was right. It shocked him to the core, to have the tumult he had suffered this last week given the term ‘love’. It was as simple as that. But how unwelcome and alarming too. The urgency and ferment of desire were not familiar emotions; their power to disrupt daunted him more than a pistol-toting French count. He pushed the realisation away.

Mabel brought Billy back into the room, his face polished and his clouts clean and dry and on seeing Ferdy, he held out his podgy arms and said the phrase he had just learned, More please.

Ferdy hesitated, reluctant to take the child in his arms in front of such an audience, but Mabel thrust him forwards and, with Billy grasping his immaculate coat sleeve, there was nothing to be done but gracefully accept him. As the child settled on his arm, smiling like a little prince, Corinna could not suppress a gasp at the sight of man and boy so remarkably alike. Alick’s snort of surprise was disguised by a cough. Ferdy was aware of what a picture this touching sight presented. With a sheepish expression, he said, ‘This is Billy, whom I’m looking after until his mother returns.’

The Wolfes were well-versed in the ways of small children, having two of their own, and Corinna approached and offered her hand. This was immediately grasped by Billy, who gnawed on her knuckle. ‘Oh, the poor mite is teething,’ she said with sympathy.

Mabel’s maternal pride was evident when she responded, ‘He is, but the best and bravest little gentleman I’ve yet to see. He smiles through it all.’

‘Well, I must commend you, Mabel, and you, Mrs Moffat, he seems the most easy-going and happy little person.’

Alick added with a smirk of amusement, ‘And also the prettiest and most charming of lads, don’t you think, Ferdy?’

Corinna ignored her husband’s raillery and turned to Madeleine. ‘Miss Rose, I hear that you found the child and are determined he should not be placed in the Foundling Hospital. I agree wholeheartedly with you on that. In fact, I have a temporary plan that I’d like to suggest to you and Mr Shilton. Will you join us in the library?’

Mrs Wolfe had such quiet authority, even over Mr Shilton’s establishment, that Madeleine followed her and her husband without hesitation, while Ferdy handed Billy back to Mabel and asked Mrs Moffat for tea and cake to be carried through to them.

Everyone’s eyes were on Corinna, who stood, her hand resting on the fireplace. ‘Ferdy, may I suggest that Billy come and join Emma and John in our nursery just up the road? The company of other children will do him good. And of course Mabel would come too.’

Ferdy grasped her hand. ‘Cory, you are right. That would solve some of the most pressing problems. What do you think, Miss Rose?’ He turned to look at her, his blue eyes once more bright with relief.

Madeleine could only agree. It would be much more entertaining for Billy to live with other children. ‘I think it’s an excellent idea. Would I still be able to visit him?’

Her questioning gaze was met by Mrs Wolfe’s smile. ‘Of course. You will always be welcome.’ She then turned to Mr Shilton. ‘Will Miss Payton agree, do you think? You and she can always visit the child too.’

Ferdy gave a small laugh. ‘Miss Payton will be delighted. She wanted the child as far away from my household as possible as she did not care for the gossip that his proximity to me might occasion. I will visit the child: I don’t think Miss Payton will choose to do so.’ There was a flatness to his tone that was so unlike his usual demeanour that both the Wolfes and Madeleine looked at him sharply.

The discomfort in the room was broken by Corinna walking over to sit beside Madeleine. ‘Miss Rose, I was going to ask you a favour. I don’t know if Mr Shilton told you, but we’ve returned to Town so I could paint a portrait for the Earl of Wotton of the famous Italian singer, La Bambolina. She’s an awful fidget and reluctant to sit for me for the required time, so I wondered if you would mind coming to my studio in the house to pose for a few hours wearing her stage costume?’ When Madeleine met this unusual suggestion with a surprised smile, Mrs Wolfe continued. ‘She’s petite like you and I think it will fit well enough for my purposes. You’re more slender and your hands are prettier than hers, but I’m sure she won’t mind being memorialised with more elegant fingers.’

Madeleine felt her cheeks flush; she was unused to any praise of her physical appearance. Alick Wolfe and Mr Shilton were watching her and suddenly she felt shy. She had never considered the look of her hands and to have them called pretty pleased her, but made her self-conscious. She tucked them in the folds of her gown. ‘I would be very glad to help you in that way, Mrs Wolfe. I could combine it with visiting Billy, perhaps?’

‘Certainly. Could you spare a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon?’

* * *

Madeleine was just about to leave the friends to their tea when Maltby knocked on the door and announced Miss Payton. She had to suppress a gasp for into the room sailed a vision of loveliness; Hester Payton had come dressed to impress her betrothed’s oldest friends. All eyes were turned upon her lovely countenance, her blue eyes fully aware of the stir she created, her golden curls falling in springy ringlets around her ears as she gently tossed her head. She had abandoned her bonnet and pelisse to Maltby and stood there before them in a fine afternoon gown in sky-blue tucked silk, the hem banded with tiny ruffles of matching lace. Her smart spencer was of lilac twill and braided in silver-gilt like a Hussar’s jacket.

She smiled winningly at Mr Shilton who came forwards and took her hand. ‘Hester, my dear, I would like you to meet Mr and Mrs Wolfe.’ They all bowed. ‘And Miss Rose you already know.’ He gestured towards Madeleine, who was edging for the door.

‘Indeed, I know Miss Rose.’ Then, turning to the Wolfes, Miss Payton said in her sweetly purring voice, ‘But how pleased I am to meet you.’ She took Corinna Wolfe’s hand. ‘Ferdinand’s closest friends.’ She led Corinna to the sofa, taking for granted it was her role to preside over the tea table.

Corinna knew the Shilton house as well as her own, indeed had been given a home here when she first came to London in search of her father. It jarred slightly to have to allow Miss Payton, not yet married to Ferdy, to assume the position of chatelaine. Even more against the grain was to hear her call him Ferdinand, as if she were reproving him.

Corinna looked across at her dandy friend and noticed his sober clothing. Where were the blue and yellow coats he loved so well, the buttery cream breeches? She suddenly realised with a sinking heart that Ferdy looked more sombre than she had ever seen him, even at her father’s funeral. Was their beloved, kind-hearted, parakeet-plumed friend succumbing to pressure to become ordinary?

Madeleine bid them all a hasty farewell and returned to the kitchen to retrieve Dot. In Mr Shilton’s presence, she was painfully aware that her heart asked more than life could give; only in her fiction could the world be put to rights and true love rewarded. When they were once again out on the street, she blurted out, ‘I really cannot warm to Miss Payton, Dot.’ She knew she should not talk so candidly to the servants but felt that Dot would understand.

In fact, Dot was eager to add her halfpence-worth. ‘None of the household like her. She’s bossy as a costermonger’s wife, is full of airs, a real princum-prancum, so stiff and precise, and she’s not yet the mistress of the house. They don’t understand why Mr Shilton wants to marry her. He could have the pick of all the young ladies.’

‘Well, I do know that now Mr Shilton is engaged he cannot withdraw from his promise. She will become his wife, and their mistress.’

‘But she could withdraw?’

‘Yes, there is little opprobrium to a lady withdrawing, but why would she? Mr Shilton is the grandest gentleman, the kindest and most generous of men.’ Madeleine knew her voice had a break in it and hoped Dot did not notice.

‘And a well-breeched swell. Believe me, Miss Rose, methinks that money matters most of all.’

Madeleine immediately regretted her indiscretion. ‘Dot, I’m sorry. We should not be speaking this way. Please don’t pass on anything to the Lockhart servants or indeed to Mr Shilton’s. Keep this between ourselves?’ She also recognised that her lack of tact sprang from having no one to talk to about the ideas and events which threatened to submerge her. Now she had met Mrs Wolfe, perhaps she might be someone to confide in?