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‘James! Don’t say those things in company.’ Lucie looked sternly down at the boy, who gazed back, innocent and unabashed. ‘I’m sorry, sir, James worships George, who was with his father in the Peninsular War. His language can be a bit, um, irregular.’

‘Nurse has my luncheon,’ James said, smiling sunnily at his aunt and more uncertainly at her companion, and swerved out of the room.

‘So your sister is a widow?’

‘I’m afraid so. Captain Lovatt never saw his son.’

‘Which regiment?’

‘The King’s Hussars. He was wounded at Sahagun. Sadly, he didn’t survive.’

‘There seem to be quite a few Hussars back in Town on leave, or recovering from their wounds. They’re always a huge hit with the ladies. And make us non-military types feel mere saunterers.’

Lucie looked at him closely. ‘You’re rather pale. Perhaps you need to rest for a bit.’ Simon was by his side in an instant. She continued, ‘Can I get you anything to eat or drink? Some bread and beef?’

‘Don’t worry, Miss Carey. Simon’s a great truffle-dog.’ He smiled rather wanly, suddenly aware of the pain that throbbed in his leg. ‘But I’d like to see what adventures we find at Castle Rackrent, if you can spare the time later?’ As Lucie closed the door behind her, Lord Lynwood looked up at his valet. ‘Do you think Brabazon has sent Lady Cleome news of my accident?’

‘We’ll soon know, m’lord. I heard from the Hall that they’re to prepare for his arrival.’ He straightened the cushions behind his master’s back.

‘O-ho, something wicked this way comes!’ Lord Lynwood had a look that combined exasperation and mischief.

His valet shook his head indulgently. ‘He’s not that bad, m’lord.’

‘But he disapproves of me, Simon. He thinks me rattle-pated and my friends mere fribbles, encouraging me to run through my fortune. He has told me I should settle down. Can you believe it? I’ve not yet gained my majority! It’s a bit rich, seeing as he’s never done so himself. In fact, he still lives like he did in his wild youth with his racing and gaming and expensive Cyprians.’

‘He can afford to live like a Corinthian, my lord.’

‘Like a rake, more like!’

‘It’s not for me to judge, sir. But your cousin is as swimming in lard as the Grosvenors and so can do what he likes.’

‘And I cannot?’ Lord Lynwood turned with a flash of anger. But Simon Toller had left in search of food.

Lucie found Sybella and James in the breakfast room off the kitchen. A large roast rib of beef sat on the table together with freshly baked bread and a bowl of pickles. There was also a jar of honey from the orchard, golden and granular with bits of honeycomb still attached. ‘Sit down, Lucie, do. Have something to eat. I’m just giving Nurse some time off, so I’m eating with James.’ She turned as Simon Toller entered with a knock. ‘Good morning, Mr Toller, please take whatever you and Lord Lynwood would like. I thought it less tiring for him not to share with us and James.’ She smiled in her open way. ‘How is his lordship today?’

‘Oh, getting better, Ma’am. I think Dr Bristow will let him return to the Hall tomorrow. Get us out of your way.’

‘Not at all. It’s been no trouble to us, especially having you here to help him.’

‘He’s expecting his cousin at the big house in the next day or so. The household has been warned to get everything the way he likes it.’

‘Aha. Is Mr Brabazon that much of a stickler?’ She looked up innocently.

But Simon Toller would not be drawn into any indiscretion and only chuckled. ‘That’s not for me to say, Ma’am.’ He left the room with a laden plate and a glass of ale.

Lucie cut herself a chunk of bread and looked across at her sister. ‘I don’t know if I like Lord Lynwood. He’s so pleased with himself and superior. He makes me feel very country-dull and a bit silly.’

‘Silly Billy,’ said James, almost to himself, as he picked up a piece of bread, spread with honey. ‘Like honey, sunny, funny… bunny.’ He was enjoying experimenting with words, practising under his breath, unaware of his mother and aunt quietly listening, on tenterhooks as to what he would say next. Sybella’s hand was poised about to cut the beef: she and Lucie met each other’s eyes as James continued, ‘Runny, dunny, cun…’ The sisters’ eyes widened and for a moment they were transfixed.

Hurriedly, Sybella leaned across the table. ‘Dearest, eat your bread like a good boy. And here’s some beef.’ James took a bite and the chewy bread stopped his chatter. The adults sat back and laughed. ‘You just can’t be sure what he’ll say and in what company.’

Sybella finally responded to her sister. ‘Young Freddie Lynwood has a handsome look about him. And he’s well-bred. He’s an earl, I hear from our resident tattler, Beamish.’

‘Bella! You sound just like a scheming mama weighing up a possible match! No doubt he’s surrounded by fashionable young women intent on snaring him. I’m not going to be one of them!’

‘Of course not, Lucie, my dear. I was just saying he’s got pleasing looks and manners. And having a title and some fortune helps.’ She could not hide the amusement in her face.

‘I’m glad he’s going back to the Hall tomorrow.’