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Mr Brabazon’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. ‘What makes you feel I would ever presume to scold Mrs Lovatt, or anyone else, for that matter?’

‘Anthony, my dear, I’ve known you since you were a wild young buck, far wilder than Freddie, I might add, and you have recently become very strait-laced in your judgements on the conduct of others.’

‘Lud! Augusta. I haven’t been so scolded by you, and by Mrs Lovatt as it happens, since my sainted mother left this earth.’

‘I was lucky enough to know your mother, and I’m sure in her absence she would be perfectly happy for me to point you in the right direction.’ Lady Godley enjoyed sparring with attractive, self-consequential men.

‘And what direction, pray, might that be?’ His expressive eyebrows belied the laconic tone of his voice.

‘Firstly, I think you should resist the desire to interfere in your ward’s choice of a wife.’

‘It might surprise you to hear that I’m close to agreeing with you.’ He was swinging his crossed leg and gazing critically at his boot. ‘I escorted Lady Cleome home this afternoon and she seems to be quite taken up with Captain Fortescue, currently playing the romantic hero in the Peninsula.’

‘I hope he’s saved the fate of Captain Lovatt. In one fell blow, my beloved Sybella was widowed, and her unborn son rendered fatherless. For what?’

Mr Brabazon’s face was an impassive mask, but Lady Godley noticed the tell-tale pulse of a muscle twitching in his jaw. ‘Indeed. Life can be shockingly unpredictable,’ he said in his dispassionate way.

‘Bella’s stubbornly independent and brave, but she’s still so young.’ Lady Godley paused, watching his face. ‘How old are you, Mr Brabazon? Thirty-three? Thirty-four?’ she added ingenuously.

‘You know full well how old I am, dear Augusta, and I don’t think even you would describe me as still so young.’ Their eyes met and they recognised the unspoken thoughts that lay between them.

Lady Godley smiled. ‘It might interest you to know that, having no children of my own, I intend to leave my fortune to my goddaughter, Lucie. So she’s not such a pauper as you supposed.’

Mr Brabazon inclined his head in response. ‘That’s very good of you, Augusta, and I appreciate such a confidence. You must know I’m no tattling fool and that news is safe with me. Miss Carey indeed seems a worthy recipient of your largesse.’ His face had softened as he met her enquiring gaze. ‘It may interest you to know I also intend to settle part of my fortune on my ward, so he is free to marry whomsoever he pleases.’

There was a movement at the door and Sybella entered, looking tired, still a trifle distrait but happy. She started when she saw Mr Brabazon and looked back to Lady Godley, a faint blush suffusing her skin. ‘Oh, my apologies, Augusta! I didn’t know you had company. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’ Putting a hasty hand to her tumbling hair, she turned to greet Mr Brabazon.

‘I’m much consoled to hear that your sister is restored to health,’ he murmured as he bowed to kiss her hand.

‘So much so, I am relieved to say. In fact, this terrible incident has helped me make the decision to send Scipio home with Gem. I think he needs much more freedom than I can give him here.’

‘That’s wise. But you’ll miss him. He’s a rum prancer, as James would say.’ His eyes met hers. ‘I can always lend you one of my best hunters, Mrs Lovatt.’

Sybella smiled and offered her thanks, then addressed them both. ‘I bear apologies from Lord Lynwood. He left in haste without bidding you farewell, Augusta, as he suddenly realised how late he was for an appointment.’

‘I should be taking my leave or I too shall be late for an appointment.’ Mr Brabazon walked unhurriedly over to where Lady Godley sat. ‘I shall bear in mind your words of wisdom, Augusta. I’ll treat them with the same reverence I did my mother’s.’ A wicked gleam lit up the lean austerity of his face.

Sybella followed him out and they walked together down the stairs.

‘Has Augusta been busy?’ he asked as he glanced down at her.

‘In her inimitable way, yes. She appears to consider us all pieces on life’s chess board.’

‘With herself the only player?’

Sybella’s weariness had not suppressed her sense of humour. She laughed. ‘Of course!’

‘I wonder which pieces we represent in her scheme of things?’ He lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

‘You are obviously the Knight, able to see all, be all, in full possession of the field. But I’m sure I’m just one of the Pawns, merely a worker bee.’ Sybella looked up to see Mr Brabazon gazing pensively into the distance.

‘No, you’re the Queen,’ he said softly, then smiled into her eyes with a sweetness that took her breath away. ‘Despite received wisdom, you’re the most powerful personage on the board. But overused and too easily exhausted by your strengths. And the demands put on them by others.’

With this unexpected recognition from such an unexpected source, Sybella felt tears spring to her eyes and her knees momentarily buckled. She was so very tired. She had battled on alone for too long. Suddenly she just wanted to put her head on his broad chest and be fortified by his strength, but she knew this was childish and impossible. Instead, she put out a hand and steadied herself against the banister, a movement not lost on her companion. Mr Brabazon offered her his arm and they walked down the last few stairs side by side, Sybella leaning on him, their bodies closely aligned in easy familiarity.

Samson returned Mr Brabazon’s hat and gloves to him with a certain reverence and opened the door with an elaborate bow. Sybella delayed the moment of parting. She walked with him down the front steps to the road. He had strolled up from Grosvenor Square and now turned towards South Audley Street to return. He took her hand to bid her farewell but instead of lying limply in his light grasp, as politeness decreed, they both held each other’s hands with a telling pressure.

‘Mrs Lovatt…’ He paused, meeting her open gaze with an intense and troubled look in his eyes, revealing some internal struggle she could not intuit.