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Just as they approached Stanhope Gate and could see the beginning of the Row’s sandy highway stretching ahead, their attention was caught by three magnificent Hussars in full regalia cantering towards them. Sybella’s heart missed a beat. She had not seen a King’s Hussar in uniform since her Captain had ridden away in 1808, four years before, and these young men, plumed in their sartorial splendour, took her breath away.

The leading horseman noticed her piercing regard and brought his horse to trot beside hers. ‘You seem to be acquainted with the regiment, Ma’am? I am Captain Edward Fortescue, 10th Light Dragoons, the King’s Hussars.’ He saluted. He had an open, pleasing face with friendly brown eyes and short-cropped chestnut hair and, like all men who wore the uniform, an air of dashing authority.

Sybella recognised with some emotion their familiar dark blue dolmans, heavily braided with gold. She had her husband’s jacket still at home along with the fur-trimmed pelisse which these immaculately accoutred Hussars wore casually draped over their left shoulders. Their tall stovepipe shakos were red and braided with gold cords, topped off with the distinctive white plume.

Sybella’s Captain’s headdress had been lost when he was felled in the heat of battle. She had been given, however, his long-pointed saddle cloth, the distinctive shabraque, with its gold-embroidered crown and royal insignia, together with his sabre and sabretache, the royal cypher embroidered on the front. She felt an immediate bond with the men sitting on their restive horses before her. ‘How do you do. Yes, indeed, my husband was in the regiment. He was wounded at Sahagun and died before they could get him home.’

‘Please accept all our condolences.’ They bowed their heads in respect. ‘We were at Sahagun too. Can you give me his name?’

‘Captain James Lovatt.’

‘Mrs Lovatt, I am truly honoured to meet you.’ He took her hand and bowed low to kiss it. ‘He was one of the best of us, well-liked by everyone. A regular out-and-outer and the finest horseman in our troop. We are being recalled to the Peninsula in a sennight or two, but if there’s anything I can do for you while we’re here, just ask.’ He passed Sybella his card and added, ‘I’m temporarily at the Hyde Park Barracks.’

As he bowed and wheeled his horse round ready to rejoin his fellow officers, Sybella had an urgent thought. ‘Captain, could you spare some time to meet me here this afternoon? I would like to bring my son so he can see you in your uniform. He never knew his father, you see. But he’s determined to be as fine a horseman too.’

‘Of course. By which gate will you and your son arrive?’

‘Cumberland, on the north-eastern corner where Oxford Street meets Park Lane.’

‘Four-thirty, I’ll be there.’ He bowed and rode off at a leisurely pace.

It was time for breakfast, and Sybella and Gem began to retrace their steps. Suddenly there appeared to be no other horsemen around and she turned to Gem. ‘I apologise for going against your advice, but I owe it to Scipio. Just to kick out for a moment.’ Without waiting for a reply, she let the reins drop and gave him his head. Scipio sprang forward with such exuberance, she was surprised by how hard she had to anchor herself to the pommel. She was unafraid. She knew her horse and even at full tilt trusted he would respond, so she relaxed as he thundered through the glade. She felt an inner bubble of joy at being one with her horse and nature. Then she noticed in the distance a single horseman riding through the further copse and quickly began to rein Scipio in to a sedate canter, turning him to head back to her displeased groom.

‘Don’t look so cantankerous, Gem. I did it for Scipio’s sake. Neither you nor I want him over-fresh and kicking over the traces. He could injure himself, or you.’

‘I just hope no one saw you, Miss Bella,’ was all he would say. He had been concerned by the spirited way Scipio had frisked off and was relieved she had not parted company with him. On the contrary, she had managed to hold her posture well. It was a particular skill of balance and athleticism to be able to gallop while seated side-saddle. Taking fences and hedges in the hunting field was a different challenge in which his young mistress had learnt to excel. Gem was secretly proud of how well she had acquitted herself.

Sybella was a bit breathless. ‘There’s a rider approaching from those trees over there.’ She nodded in a westerly direction. ‘Let’s leave the Park in case someone recognises us. Anyway, I could do with some breakfast.’

As they trotted back to Green Street, Gem asked quietly, ‘Those Hussars were from the Captain’s regiment?’

‘Yes, indeed. It’s fortuitous. I’ve asked Captain Fortescue if he will meet James this afternoon. I think he’d like to see someone who knew his father in the regiment.’

Sybella dismounted outside Lady Godley’s house and let Gem take Scipio back to the stables for her. She ran up the front steps and was surprised to have the great door opened, not by the funereal Samson, but by her excited sister. ‘I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve already had a number of acceptances to Godmama’s invitations. I’ve been practising my playing and James has been building armies out of the chess pieces he found in the library.’

‘Have you had breakfast yet?’

‘No, I waited for you. James has eaten in the kitchen with Nurse. Lady Godley isn’t down yet. But I promise I did make sure she was awake before I began practising my music.’

Sybella smiled at her excitement and dashed upstairs to change into a morning dress before joining her in the dining room for coffee and a fresh roll. ‘What are your plans for today, Lucie?’

‘I’m going to go with Alice to Hatchard’s Bookshop in Piccadilly. Godmama and her blue-stocking friends are such gossips! She told me last night that Lord Byron is back in Town and has taken lodgings in Bennett Street in St James, next to the Blue Posts Inn. I’m going to buy his Childe Harold so, if I should make his acquaintance, I can at least have something to ask him about.’

‘Don’t tell your godmama that, you’ll give her palpitations. The poet-lord’s success has turned his handsome head and every woman in London is casting out her lures, on which he seems more than happy to alight.’

‘She hinted at his conquests. Also darker rumours, but she refused to elaborate. You know, Godmama is much less strait-laced than she likes to appear.’

‘I know. But she is so concerned at turning you off well, Lucie, I think she’s buttoned her lips. Once you’re married, she’ll give you all the on-dits you could wish.’

‘Lady Godley also mentioned the sensational trial of her and Lord Byron’s friend, the editor of the Examiner. He was found guilty of libel for calling the Prince a libertine, up to his head and ears in debt and disgrace! She thinks her friend’s a hero, but everyone is fearful of what the sentence might be.’

‘Then he’s a reckless hero to publish such, I would have thought. Of course, it’s true, and given the morals of most of the aristocracy and just how many are rolled up with debt, it’s hardly noteworthy.’

‘I don’t care about Lord Byron’s morals or whether he’s in debt, I want to buy his poetry anyway. Can I purchase you anything more to read?’

‘I’m still deep in Self-Control and not progressing very far. There aren’t enough hours in the day! This afternoon, I’m taking James to Hyde Park to meet a real-life Hussar of the same regiment as his father’s. I hope you have a good time exploring the bookshop. It’s quite the thing, you know, apparently it’s where the literary world meets the haut ton, with every type of reader in between.’

Lucie chuckled. ‘Godmama expects me to collect eligible young men to ask to her party wherever I go.’