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‘That was bang-up to the mark, Miss Bella. What a ride! The Captain would have been proud of you.’ And with the mention of her beloved husband, she suddenly felt tears prick behind her eyes. How much she missed him! How she wished he was here. The pang was almost physical.

‘Thank you, Gem. It was really good to test Scipio to his limit.’

They began to canter back when a deer suddenly broke cover from the copse and startled all three horses. Hades and Gem’s horse reared and stopped dead, but Scipio took off in a headlong dash. Momentarily, Sybella was taken unawares but knew her horse well and felt confident she could contain this sudden rush of hey-go-mad energy. Her two male companions were concerned. Anthony Brabazon looked anxiously across at Gem.

The groom’s attention was on the receding figure of his mistress. ‘She’s in control. I think she’s managing.’

Mr Brabazon’s eyes narrowed watching her and he turned pale. ‘No, Gem. She’s not. That horse is bolting. Come on!’ Mr Brabazon’s face was harsh and stern as he spurred Hades into action. Gem set his horse off in pursuit as Brabazon shouted to him, ‘We’ll get on either side of her. Hedge the horse in. As close as possible. I’ll grab the bridle when I can.’

Sybella was on the verge of fright. She knew Scipio had taken off in a panic, but she also trusted her horse and knew he trusted her. She felt his panic subsiding a little but they were still at full gallop: perhaps, having recovered his poise, he was now enjoying the sheer pleasure of freedom. She held onto the pommel very tight, pressing her other hand into his neck and then gently tightening the reins to remind Scipio she wanted him to slow to a canter. The formal gardens of White Lodge loomed in the distance. Just as she felt he was back in her full control, she saw Scipio’s ears twitch and his neck extend, and had the awful feeling that he sensed he was being overtaken in a race and had quickened his pace again. To her exasperation, she glimpsed the head of a black horse drawing level and then Gem’s horse appeared on the other side, riding very close.

Suddenly the looming figure of Mr Brabazon astride his powerful Hades was leaning across and grasping Scipio’s bridle. He slowed his own horse down to a canter and Scipio had to check his speed in response. Sybella was outraged. She turned, white with shock and anger, and gave Mr Brabazon an accusatory look. ‘Take your hands off my horse!’ she said through gritted teeth. All three horses, tightly coordinated, slowed to an easy trot. ‘Gem! What were you doing? You know I understand Scipio and can handle him.’

‘Don’t blame Gem,’ Mr Brabazon said imperturbably. ‘It was entirely my decision. It appeared your horse was bolting, as you know, a significantly perilous situation for any rider to be in.’

‘But he wasn’t bolting. I know my horse. He started in alarm but quickly was just enjoying himself. And I was bringing him down. Until you decided to interfere!’

‘Mrs Lovatt.’ His voice became more icy, as hers became more heated. ‘If your horse had indeed been bolting, we would have been dangerously negligent to merely stand by and let him throw you at such speed.’

Sybella bridled and felt her colour rise. Why was he so superior and condescending? She whirled round in the saddle to confront him. ‘You just have to be in charge. You can’t bear to think that anyone can manage without benefit of your know-everything, high-handed interventions!’

Gem had fallen back to a discreet distance and was riding slowly towards the main gate. Mr Brabazon met her angry gaze with cold disdain. ‘Whatever your feelings, Mrs Lovatt, may I remind you that it is impolite to catechise my character in front of a servant.’

Sybella knew he was right and she felt a creeping embarrassment at what looked like a foolish over-reaction. They were both still hatless and she glanced quickly at his hair, usually so well pomaded and immaculately controlled, and realised that the unruly disorder of his dark locks was probably even more marked in hers. No doubt they both looked like they were hedge-born and she found herself laughing, putting up a hand to try to tame her hair.

She could not suppress the giggle in her voice. ‘I think the sight of us would be equally distressing to polite society!’

Mr Brabazon’s face had softened into the ghost of a smile. ‘I must say, if my hair is anything like yours, then we are in trouble.’ They both laughed as their horses fell in beside each other, trotting easily up to Gem, who handed back their hats with a relieved grin. These fashionable pieces of essential apparel, once restored to their owners’ heads, hid a multitude of sins. They looked at each other and could not hide their amusement at the sight.

Mr Brabazon’s elegant hat was crammed rather carelessly over surprisingly curly hair and his beautiful cravat was crumpled and askew. She could see his smooth neck muscles down to his clavicle where his fine linen shirt had been pulled awry. Sybella found such dishevelment in a usually tightly controlled man exciting, and rather touching. She was certain she also did not look as immaculate as when she set out. Her bonnet was tied firmly but she knew that escaped strands were tumbling round her face and a few were loose on her shoulder. She glanced down quickly to make sure the strenuous ride had not strained her tight bodice and popped a silver button. By the way Mr Brabazon was surveying her person, she surmised he had had a similar revelation about her character in déshabillé.

They rode sedately back to London, sometimes talking desultorily about the passing show but often in silence, at ease in each other’s company. Eventually they reached Green Street again and the men dismounted. Giving Hades’s reins to Gem, Mr Brabazon strolled round to Sybella and without saying a word lifted his arms, ready to catch her as she dismounted. She demurely slid into his firm grip and he set her decorously on the ground. With his hands still around her waist, he held her close for a fleeting moment. Looking down into her face, he said, ‘At the risk of having a fine peal rung o’er my head, I wonder if the character defects you point out so trenchantly as mine are not in fact the very ones shared by you?’

Sybella was amused. Had he been brooding on this all the way home? ‘Oh my, Mr Brabazon. I didn’t realise my words had hit home with quite such effect.’ She also recognised that he was right. He released her and offered his arm to escort her to the front door. Samson opened it before Sybella could knock. His eyebrows, trained to never show surprise, lifted imperceptibly at the sight of Miss Sybella and her companion, both looking distinctly travel-tossed and wind-blown.

Mr Brabazon bowed to take his leave and Sybella impetuously took his gloved hand in hers. ‘Thank you for suggesting this adventure. I think Hades and Scipio enjoyed themselves kicking over the traces.’

He bowed again. ‘Perhaps their owners did too?’ he said quietly, and lifted an eyebrow as he turned to go.

‘Mama!’ James came bowling down the stairs and launched himself into his mother’s arms. She lifted him up and they both turned to see Mr Brabazon walk down the front steps, slip some plate into Gem’s hand and then, taking Hades’s reins, swing himself into the saddle. Just at that point, Lucie, accompanied by Alice, with Freddie Lynwood and Valentine Ravenell on each arm, came laughing in from the street.

‘Mrs Lovatt, was that my forbidding guardian we saw riding down the street? Whose fun has he been spoiling this time?’ Lord Lynwood bowed mischievously over Sybella’s hand.

‘He has not spoiled anyone’s fun. He and I have taken the horses for a gallop in Richmond Park.’

‘And he didn’t contrive to scold you at some point?’

‘No, his behaviour was impeccable. It was I who scolded him, I fear.’

‘That’ll do him no harm. He’s so high in the instep, no one dares to take him down a peg or two.’ He laughed at the thought.

‘Freddie, he’s actually very affectionate about you, you know. He takes his responsibilities very seriously. You are lucky to have him.’

Lord Lynwood’s sceptical response was interrupted by Lucie, who had broken off her raillery with her betrothed. ‘Bella! you look a trifle ruffled and disorderly.’ She laughed. ‘So you’ve been to Richmond and back on Scipio! Aren’t you tired?’ She fondly took her sister’s arm and enfolded her and James in a hug.

‘That reminds me, I must look a fright! I have to change my clothes. And do my hair,’ Sybella said hastily, putting a hand to her head. ‘I’ll be down in a minute. Offer your gentlemen friends some refreshment, dearest.’

Lady Godley appeared on the first-floor landing, her small figure cutting a dash in a peach silk pelisse and dove-grey satin turban embellished with a curling turquoise feather. She summoned them to the drawing room. ‘I thought I heard your return. Venez, mes jeunes galants. I’m sure we can arrange something to drink.’ She was still floating on a cloud of social elevation. Under her aegis, her only goddaughter had snatched the most eligible young nobleman from the unsheathed talons of all the ambitious mamas. And so early in the Season too!