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She looked up at his face with an intense enquiry in her eyes. ‘Tell me, Mr Brabazon, why do you and Lord Rockliffe hate each other so much?’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t dramatise our relationship with such an operatic emotion.’

‘How would you characterise it, then?’

‘Ah, let me see.’ He smiled meditatively across at her. ‘Would indifference do?’

‘Now you’re cozening me, sir! There’s ill feeling between you and I’d like to know why. It’s discomfiting being in the same room with you both.’

‘It’s a historic injury. So long ago, I really have forgotten.’

‘That is humbug!’

‘And that is rather a coarse word to emerge from your ladylike lips. Perhaps James’s colourful language is having more of an influence than you thought?’

Sybella felt wrong-footed and knew she would not get any more information from him as they walked on in silence. They were now approaching Green Street and James was delighted with his high vantage point, looking in through the ground-floor windows of the grand houses they passed.

‘Tell me, Mr Brabazon, did you meet us in the Park entirely by chance?’ Sybella turned an innocent gaze on him.

‘Of course. As much by chance as Lord Rockliffe’s meeting, I would think.’

They had arrived at Lady Godley’s front door and Mr Brabazon swung James down from the saddle and into his mother’s arms. ‘You’ve the makings of a great horseman, young James.’

‘Like my papa and you, Mr B?’

‘Most certainly. But you’ll need to heed your mama and grow up big and strong.’

He looked across to Sybella and met her still questioning eyes. ‘To tell you the truth, Mrs Lovatt, I saw you and James head off this morning and I thought it might be a good idea to exercise Hades a bit earlier than usual.’ He absent-mindedly picked a twig out of James’s flaxen curls. ‘Then I saw Rockliffe’s flashy grey set off from the South Audley mews and I knew it might get interesting.’ He chuckled almost to himself.

‘Thank you for being so honest, Mr Brabazon. But I hope you are not congratulating yourself on rescuing me when once again I did not in fact need rescuing.’

Mr Brabazon bowed his head. ‘I promise not to try and rescue you even should you need it, Mrs Lovatt. You are, after all, a woman of great resource who knows, no doubt, just how to extricate herself from her own scrapes?’

‘Or may, on occasion, choose not to extricate herself?’ she said provocatively over her shoulder as she mounted the steps to the front door. Samson swung it open and at the sight of Miss Sybella and James, his usually hang-dog expression lightened to merely lugubrious. He touched his hat to Mr Brabazon, who stood for a few minutes, Hades’s reins in his hands, apparently deep in thought with a small frown between his brows.

James ran off to the kitchens and Sybella climbed the stairs to the drawing room in search of Lucie. She was met by Lady Godley. ‘That young rogue, Lord Lynwood, came dashing in to see her in high excitement, so I’ve been chaperoning them. I’m getting so much embroidery done!’ She heard Lucie’s voice call her in.

‘Bella! I’m so glad you’re back. Freddie has had some news about the Marquess of Wellington’s next military plans in Northern Portugal.’

Lord Lynwood came forward to greet Sybella and bowed over her hand. ‘I thought you and Lucie would like to know the latest from the Peninsula. Captain Fortescue has been writing with news in his letters to Cleome Stafford.’

She sat down on the sofa with Lucie beside her. ‘Indeed I would like to hear. This terrible war has been rumbling on for five years and taken so many lives. When will it be over? What have you heard?’

‘Mrs Lovatt, I know it’s unpopular but it’s such an important war.’ He was pacing the floor, talking with passionate intensity. ‘We have to stop Napoleon conquering Europe and threatening to invade us. Until last winter, he seemed invincible.’ His handsome face was flushed with excitement. His eyes sparkled. Watching him, Sybella wondered if Mr Brabazon was right when he had said this spirited young man needed an occupation that would test his mettle more productively than his current endeavours in the gaming hells of St James’s, or drinking with the horse racing fraternity at Newmarket.

He stopped pacing and stood beside the sisters. ‘I don’t know if you were aware that Lady Cleome is in regular communication with Captain Fortescue, now he’s back with his regiment?’

‘Ah, yes, on the occasions we’ve met her, it does appear that they do have an understanding.’

Lord Lynwood seemed untroubled by this perception and continued traversing the drawing room carpet. ‘Fortescue’s up in North Portugal at Freineda where Wellington has his winter headquarters, readying for a spring push.’

‘So while the Captain was recuperating here when we met him, he missed the worst of the winter with Wellington’s forces?’

‘Yes. Conditions are dismal. Everyone suffers. But Captain Fortescue is looking forward to the attack.’ Sybella was full of trepidation thinking of the safety of the men, recalling the excitement in her husband’s letters written on the eve of battle, and the dangers and hardships they suffered.

‘Do you wish you were there, Freddie?’ Sybella asked quietly.

‘Partly, yes. It seems such an adventure. Unlike my adventures here, the war against Boney has real purpose.’