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‘Alas, Mr Brabazon! For someone who prides himself on his dispassion, you have a remarkably florid imagination, and a poor view of Lord Lynwood. Indeed, of my sex in general.’

He was inexplicably amused. ‘What a sorry case I am. Your sister had cause to check my censoriousness this morning and now I have offended you too. Another apology is due you.’

They were just approaching Lady Godley’s house and he reined in his greys and sprang down as John took their heads. He gave his hand to Sybella to help her descend and then handed a sleepy James down into her arms. ‘I must commend you, Mrs Lovatt, on your horsemanship. That black stallion of yours is not an easy ride in Town. I glimpsed him this morning at full tilt – for a moment, I feared he was in a bolt but then watched you rein him in quite easily. I couldn’t have done better myself.’ He bowed.

Sybella smiled mischievously. ‘Of course, I would never have allowed him to gallop in the Park, so perhaps it was a bolt after all?’

A smile lurked on his lips. ‘If anyone asks, that will be my story.’ As he took her hand in farewell, he added, ‘Your sister suggested you had taken Scipio for a ride to rid him of his blue devils, and I wondered if such would do the same for mine. Perhaps you will give me the pleasure of riding with me one day in Richmond Park? There we are allowed to gallop.’

‘I look forward to that. To be at one with a galloping horse seems to cast every vexation to the winds.’

‘And every lunacy.’ His cool gaze gave nothing away. He turned back to Sybella. ‘Let me carry James up for you.’ Lifting the drowsy child from her arms, he followed her as she and Alice climbed the steps to the front door.

5

SOME LOVES WANE AS OTHERS GAIN

The day of Lady Godley’s party dawned clear and sunny. The Carey sisters were up early and descended the stairs to the heady scent of buckets of narcissi, hyacinths, snowdrops, daphne odorata and anemones, delivered at dawn and lined up in the great hall. The kitchens were already busy unpacking the large order from Grosvenor Square of Gunter’s famous sweet and savoury pastries, sugar plums and French tarts. In the sunny dining room, Lady Godley was eating her breakfast, her journal open by her side. ‘Mes chéries, the coffee’s just brewed.’ She glanced at them, her eyes bright. ‘You’re both looking very fetching I trust you slept well.’

‘Yes, thank you, Godmama. The flowers are here already! It makes it all seem real.’ Lucie’s expression became a little strained.

‘It will be a succès fou. Most of those I’ve invited will be attending and I couldn’t have asked for more.’

‘Oh, Godmama, you’re so over-optimistic. What instead if it’s a succès de scandale?’ Lucie caught her sister’s eye, and they laughed.

‘Well, that would only happen if one of your beaux calls out another. Now eat up your breakfast so that the dining room can be decorated.’

By early evening, Lucie had already dressed and entered her sister’s room to ask her opinion. Sybella had just been settling James and was gratifyingly astonished at the sight of her younger sister in her new blue-sprigged muslin, the bodice cut low and trimmed with small silk rosebuds and a fine ruffle that continued to embellish the tiny puff sleeves. The skirt too was tucked and ruffled at the hem. Alice had excelled herself, creating a charming hairstyle à la déesse grecque with Lucie’s golden curls caught in an informal bun with escaped tendrils framing her face. She had deftly woven into the chignon some of the same matching silk rosebuds. ‘You look quite enchanting, dearest Lucie!’ Sybella flew to her sister’s side to embrace her. ‘You will be such a success, even your Godmama’s succès fou.’ They hugged each other, giggling.

Sybella quickly slipped into her new evening dress, copied, like Lucie’s, by Madame Dupont from Lady Godley’s Records of Fashion. Another Parisian design, this dress was sewn in mid-blue silk twill with a partial overskirt of paler blue organza. The bodice was cut becomingly over her bosom and there were fewer ruffles and frills, as befitted someone now in her mid-twenties, a widow and a mother. The colour enhanced her creamy complexion and her fine dark hair. Alice now turned her skills to bring order to Sybella’s hair, plaiting and coiling to make an elaborate bun, leaving a few casual curls to frame her face and tumble over one shoulder. Both sisters slipped their feet into satin pumps, drew on their long satin gloves and set out to find Lady Godley.

‘Ah, mes belles! Vous êtes ravissantes!’ She clapped her hands in delight. The hall, drawing room and dining room were lit by hundreds of candles in candelabras on the tables and mantelpieces. Candles also burned in their multitudes in the chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. The whole house seemed washed with a soft diffused light that made the sisters’ fine skins luminous in the pearlescent glow.

Lady Godley and Lucie stood together at the top of the first flight of stairs, ready to greet their guests and usher them through into the drawing room, where Pomeroy Godley’s celebrated cellar of champagne was flowing freely. Some old friends of Augusta Godley’s were first to arrive, lightly kissing cheeks and exclaiming at the stylishness of the floral decorations and the beauty of her goddaughter. Sybella had been called back into James’s room to calm him after a nightmare and so missed the arrival of Lord Ravenell and his father. She was walking down the stairs from the bedroom floor just as Lord Lynwood and Mr Brabazon arrived.

His ward occupied in easy conversation with Lucie, Mr Brabazon greeted Sybella with a formal bow. His lazy eyes appraised her and flickered with amusement. ‘How well you look, Mrs Lovatt. Have you been out on that high-hearted stallion of yours again?’

‘I’ve taken him for some sedate canters in the Park.’

‘And did that satisfy him and you, I wonder? Or does Richmond Park beckon?’

Sybella was struck by how tall he was and how she had to tilt her head to try to read the expression in his face. Even so, she was uncertain as to what he really felt and the true meaning behind his languid words.

She was non-committal in her reply, although the idea of the freedom a visit to Richmond Park offered tugged at her adventurous spirit. ‘When the weather improves, it would be quite an expedition, don’t you think?’

They passed into the drawing room, where Sybella was surprised to see so many people already assembled, full of the bonhomie of good company, well-oiled with wine of the best quality. Her eye was caught by the dazzling presence of a dandy from the last century. This elegant elderly man was attired in the evening dress of his youth. His black and silver embroidered frock coat was worn over silver satin breeches, but his lean, handsome face, distinguished by a noble nose, was unpowdered and free of patches. He did not wear a wig, but merely his own silver hair, longer than the current fashion, brushed back into a short queue and caught with a black ribbon at the nape of his neck.

Mr Brabazon saw her astonished gaze. Offering his arm, he led her forward. ‘Ely, let me present Mrs Lovatt.’ The aquiline head turned and the resplendent nobleman took her hand. Sybella looked up into a lined face of much experience, but with the most amused and lively blue eyes that seemed uncannily familiar. With a knowing look in his own cool eyes, Mr Brabazon said, ‘Mrs Lovatt, may I introduce the Duke of Ely, Valentine Ravenell’s father.’

‘Oh, now I understand.’ Sybella smiled.

‘Ah, I take it you have met my son.’ He bowed over her hand.

‘I have indeed. He is signally unforgettable, my lord.’ A deep chuckle emitted from his lace-cravatted throat, its warmth so affecting that she found herself wanting to join in the laughter. In that moment, she realised the son’s radiant charm could be traced directly back to his father.

‘That roguish boy! What am I to do?’ All their eyes were drawn to where Valentine Ravenell was in conversation with Lucie Carey, their golden heads bent together, their lovely faces bright with joy: the sum of their beauty even greater than its parts.

‘Miss Carey is your sister, I presume?’ The Duke still had hold of Sybella’s hand, a large diamond on his middle finger scintillating in the candlelight. Turning to Mr Brabazon, he said, ‘Anthony, my dear, you will excuse my capturing your fair companion for a moment?’ Not waiting for a reply, he led Sybella inexorably to a sofa in the window recess. ‘Do tell me more of your family. I knew your father when we were both young blades in Town. And your beautiful mother too, so like you, my dear.’ He inclined his head with a smile. ‘Your father had the good fortune to win her hand, slipped her from my fingers!’ He chuckled again with what seemed a fond memory of long ago.