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Mrs Priddy laughed. ‘I’ll do what I can, but I also have my dear Nora to think about. She will need some new gowns too.’

‘Oh no! This is Miss Charlotte’s Season, I’ll just be acting as her unremarkable chaperone.’

Charlotte grasped her friend’s arm and said, ‘It’s imperative that you come as my sister, dressed to the same height of fashion.’

They went through to the room and sat together on the sofa. ‘That’s very kind of you Lottie, but I am twenty-seven, no longer an attractive marriage partner, and you are eighteen and at your prime. You are also the daughter of a nobleman and a hero of the Peninsular War. We are going to have to dress you appropriately.’

‘But I’m not the Earl’s legitimate child.’ Charlotte’s voice was quiet.

Leonora took her hand. ‘You are going to behave as if you were, with all the pride in your blood. Do not give others reason to pity or shame you. Now let me see your list.’

‘I have only listed the clothes that are in good enough condition, or appealing enough, to merit embellishment.’ Charlotte had carefully noted every morning gown, walking dress, riding habit, evening gown and even one ball gown, together with matching pelisses, spencers, tippets, muffs and a single fur-edged velvet cloak and redingote for when the weather was grim.

‘This is so helpful. I had no idea you had so many clothes, and a ball dress too!’

‘Yes, Mama Mildmay has admitted she had an annual allowance from my mystery father to spend on clothes and she wanted me to be prepared for anything. I wish she had confided in me. It would have meant much to know my father cared enough to stay in contact, even if just through the bank.’

‘How goes it with you, now you’ve discovered something about him?’

‘I don’t really know. I’m afraid of the person he wished me to become and the life I’m to inhabit. I’ve had no training to enter Society and feel such a country mouse.’

‘Most young women who come up to Town for their first Season have lived secluded country lives. Your kind nature and talents will charm everyone, from your great-grandmother to the exacting Society Dames, to every young man about Town.’

Charlotte threw her arms around Leonora and said, ‘I’m grateful you and Nanny P will be there too. Mama Mildmay says she cannot leave the Reverend and the parish responsibilities, but truly she is overwhelmed by this change in my affairs.’

‘Well, we have to be practical now. I think we must travel to Windsor as soon as we can and order some new clothes. Have you thought about Mrs Marmery, your grandmother’s modiste?’

‘I’ve already written to her. Her shop’s in Peascod Street just down from the Castle and I’ve asked for an appointment next week.’

‘Good. Now we need to have some idea of what we’d like to ask her to make.’

‘I have the latest La Belle Assemblée for that purpose. Mama Mildmay borrowed it from the Dean’s wife and it’s full of beautiful gowns.’ Charlotte gestured to a magazine beside her, filled with fine coloured prints of engravings of fashionable women in elaborate dresses and accessories.

As Leonora talked clothes and commented on Charlotte’s choices, poring with her over the exquisite pages of the magazine, she realised she was on tenterhooks listening out for the sound of horses’ hooves from the stable yard. She reasoned it was only because she was anxious to hear about Achille, but really she knew it was the Earl she hoped to see again.

Charlotte’s voice recalled her to the subject of their wardrobes. ‘Do you think my blue sarsenet would do if I lowered the neckline and added a ribbon trim?’

‘I think it’s most becoming as it is.’

‘Ah, but look here.’ She tapped a page with an engraving of A Gauze Evening Gown from Paris. ‘See how the neckline is much lower and wider and as I don’t have a beautiful necklace, I think it needs more embellishment.’

‘Excuse me, Lottie, I must check something.’ Leonora picked up her skirts and hurried down the stone-flagged corridor to the kitchens to open the back door to the stable yard. She heard the clatter of hooves on the cobbles and turned to see a large black horse mounted by a tall man dressed in black riding away towards the drive. Lord Rokeby had come for Jupiter and was disappearing into the hazy morning sun. She had missed him.

Cross with herself for feeling so dejected, Leonora returned to Charlotte and the discussion of the competing merits of cambric muslin, jaconet and silk, and whether there was anything finer than gauze and satin ribbons with which to confect a ball dress. With some reluctance, she also realised she must address her own deficient wardrobe and work out with Nanny P what she could modify to make it fashionable and acceptable for Town. She knew she would need to order a couple of special garments from Mrs Marmery for herself and was grateful for the small legacy her mother had left her.

The day for the journey to Windsor began clear and crisp. Martin was excited by the trip; it was not often that he had to dust down the Hasterleigh coach and harness up the carriage bays. It was ten miles away and the horses would be able to do both journeys in a leisurely fashion, allowing the young ladies enough time with the modiste and still managing to return before nightfall.

Leonora and Charlotte climbed into the coach, dressed for the cold in walking dress, spencer, pelisse and cloak. Their best winter bonnets trimmed with velvet were on their heads and each carried large rabbit-fur muffs. There was an old fur blanket on the floor and Mrs Priddy had heated up two bricks in the oven to be placed by Martin to warm their feet. For the young women, this was an exciting expedition, for they did not often go much farther than the local market town and had never been as close to London before. The Dean’s wife had told Mrs Mildmay with some trepidation that this week, the Prince Regent was expected to be in residence at the Castle, which added an extra zest to their visit. Where the Prince Regent roamed, his wild set followed.

Charlotte and Leonora gazed out at the countryside as they passed through rolling rural landscapes with villages, coaching inns and scattered farms the only habitation. In the distance to the north was the blue blur of the Chiltern Hills, undulating and mottled with woodland. They had set out early and the sun was still low and pallid, casting faint shadows across the carriage as the horses trotted on. Soon they were travelling along the Bath Road through the Thames valley heading for London, and the traffic of horsemen, private vehicles and stagecoaches had increased. Ox carts laden with late-harvested hay or scavenged firewood trundled in front of them and it was difficult sometimes to pass as there were mail coaches and private vehicles rattling towards them, heading in the opposite direction.

As they approached the Windsor Road, Leonora was surprised to see so many smart curricles driven by fashionable young men. They were passed by one, the magnificent matched greys straining forward, their necks outstretched, nostrils flaring, and Leonora was struck with unexpected excitement. There was a young man driving, his long whip in hand and his passenger beside him. They were wearing their driving coats against the cold, the capes rippling in the wind, their curly-brimmed beavers pulled low, and their faces muffled to the eyes with long woollen scarves. Behind the driver perched his tiger with the horn used to summon the turnpike keepers to let them through without delay.

Charlotte had noticed these sporting drivers and was intrigued. ‘Do you think those are the kind of young men we will meet during the Season?’ The excitement in her voice made Leonora smile, relieved that her young friend’s spirit of adventure was beginning to overcome her natural fear of the social ordeal ahead.

Leonora too was strangely thrilled by the sight. This world of the rich and noble male was alien to her but seductive in its freedoms and swagger. True, she had now met the Earl of Rokeby who had the same advantages of nobility and wealth but had chosen to go to war, and perhaps that entitled swagger was gone. During his army leave he would have lived the indulgent life of a buck about Town, gaming, racing and drinking, but Leonora mused at how he seemed to have missed out on learning the elaborate courtesies of his class; he was brusque and not practised in sly charm and flowery talk. As Nanny P always insisted with some admiration, he marched to a different drum.

‘No doubt there will be many dashing young men who drive their curricles too fast,’ Leonora laughed. ‘But there’ll be others who are more dangerous to young women of fortune.’