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‘She’ll live, mon cher enfant.’ Lady Godley offered him a glass of brandy and motioned him to sit on the sofa next to his friend.

‘Loo was kicked in the head by Scipio!’ His sparkling face clouded with anxiety and shock.

‘It’s dreadful to see but, you know, despite those angelic looks, Lucie has the robust constitution of a country gal. No doubt she’s been kicked before.’ She resumed her seat opposite the troubled young men, who grasped each other’s shoulders in brotherly support.

Sybella walked in and both jumped up. ‘How’s Lucie?’ they asked in anxious unison.

‘She’s much restored. The doctor was quite out of sorts to find her so well, she had no need of his cupping or various expensive nostrums. In fact, she’s begged me to let her see you both.’ She turned to Lady Godley. ‘I know, Augusta, it’s irregular but I hope you agree with me, both Freddie and Valentine should be allowed to see her. I’ll chaperone them, of course.’

Lady Godley’s eyes glittered with satisfaction. ‘Of course, my dear. I think there are some tangles to be unravelled.’

Sybella led the two young men up the stairs to Lucie’s room. She knocked and Alice opened the door to reveal the patient propped up on pillows, still pale but almost back to her usual lively self. Alice, her face full of curiosity, left the room and Sybella shut the door. She herself went and sat in the window seat with Byron’s Childe Harold, half turned away to give them some privacy. Lucie put out her hands to her friends and they grasped them and sat on either side of the bed.

‘How are you?’ Freddie asked in a low voice.

She looked from one distraught face to the other. ‘I really am recovered, I promise you. But I remember nothing of the accident except a kind of revelation that came to me as I lay there, unable to move.’ She turned to Lord Ravenell and grasped his hand with both of hers and brought it to her lips. ‘Val, I love you so much, and always will. You quizzed me when we first met that I was your lost sister. From the moment I first saw you, I felt that too.’ Her face was tense with emotion. ‘I’ve always longed for a brother and could never have imagined finding one as wonderful as you.’ She gazed in anguish into his brilliant blue eyes and took a deep breath. ‘But I can’t marry you.’

She watched him anxiously, hardly believing she had said these fateful words. He looked momentarily taken aback. He blinked and his sparkling gaze flickered from her to his friend, whose head was sunk in his hands. Lucie’s heart was beating so hard, she could feel it through her chest, but when she noticed that familiar mischievous sparkle return to his blue, blue eyes, she was filled with love and relief.

‘Oh, Loo!’ he said. ‘Of course you should not marry me. I care for you far too much to marry you!’ Lucie felt the tension flood out of her and she sank back onto the pillow. Lord Ravenell continued, ‘You rescued me from the jaws of hell and I will never forget what you and Freddie did for me that day. But I knew we both deserved something more than we could offer each other. I’ve been thinking this for some time, but it wasn’t my place to cry off.’

He dropped his head to their entwined hands and kissed hers. Looking across at Freddie, he returned to his usual light, teasing manner. ‘But Loo, when you do marry and set up your own establishment, I warn you I’ll be moving in as the dread guest who will never leave.’ He then stood up to go. He kissed her hand again and saluted his friend. ‘I’ll see you later, Freddie. At White’s. I’ll go there to meet Papa.’

Lord Lynwood seemed overcome with emotion and leapt to his feet to embrace him. They stood together for a moment, silent, their dark and golden heads bowed. Then Lord Ravenell sprang away and, turning to go, blew a prankish kiss to Sybella, who had raised her head with a smile. They heard his light footsteps running down the stairs, a few words with Lady Godley, and then the front door closing with a bang.

Sybella’s eyes returned to her sister and she was gratified to see the colour returned to her cheeks, looking ecstatically up into Lord Lynwood’s eyes, their hands clasped tightly together. They both turned and beckoned to Sybella. ‘Mrs Lovatt, may I request your permission to ask your sister to marry me?’ Lord Lynwood’s face, grey with misery just half an hour before, was miraculously transformed by love, emitting a radiance that Sybella recognised with a pang of almost forgotten memory.

She ran forward and her hands grasped theirs. ‘I could not be happier.’ She bent to kiss Lucie and there were tears in both the sisters’ eyes.

Meanwhile, Samson’s duties on the door had become more onerous than usual. No sooner had he managed to disappear into the kitchen for an ale and a chance to put his feet up on the stove than he was summoned by another gentleman, rapping on the door knocker, insistent on admittance. This time, he opened the door to the incomparable Mr Brabazon. His tall frame, clothed in an immaculate dark blue coat and buff pantaloons atop mirror-polished hessian boots, was a sight, Samson dourly considered, to soothe the sorest of eyes. He managed to reverse his naturally downcast visage with a faintly appreciative smile. ‘Good afternoon, sir.’ He bowed unnecessarily low.

‘Samson, good afternoon. Is your mistress at home?’ He handed his gloves and hat to him for safe-keeping.

‘Lady Godley is in the drawing room, sir. Would you like me to announce you?’ Mr Brabazon bowed and followed Samson up the stairs. Lady Godley had temporarily dozed off after the excitement of the afternoon and was woken by Samson’s polite ‘Ahem!’

‘Yes, what is it?’

‘Mr Brabazon to see you, m’lady.’

‘Good. Show him in, Samson. And can you bring some more brandy up from the cellars?’ Mr Brabazon strolled into the elegant room now flooded with late afternoon light.

‘Lady Godley, Augusta.’ He bowed over her hand.

‘Anthony! I’m very pleased to see you after all the comings and goings of the afternoon. I’ve played hostess to two of the most handsome and eligible young blades in Town. And now here you are too!’ It had been many years since Lady Godley had enjoyed herself so much, being the centre of the drama and taking her part in prodding the players into their rightful parts.

Mr Brabazon smiled. ‘I don’t know which of those characterisations you would apply to me. With competition as elevated as that, I fear I can only be a disappointment.’ He stood by the fireplace, watching Samson pour him a significant quaff of brandy.

‘Oh, do sit down, Anthony! You so loom over me, it makes me feel quite dwarfish.’

He laughed and took the glass from Samson. ‘You aim to get me half-sprung with this?’ He cocked an eyebrow at the old retainer, who chuckled with a rusty cackle. This was such a rare sound that Lady Godley looked up sharply to meet Mr Brabazon’s lazy grey eyes, filled with an emotion she could not read.

‘How is Miss Carey?’ He sat down on the sofa by the window and languidly crossed his legs.

‘Very much better, I should think, with all the attention she’s had. Sybella is still with her. As, I think, is your ward.’ She gave him a levelling look.

Mr Brabazon chose to ignore the import of that glance. ‘Nasty business. Scipio is a handsome beast, a prime piece of horseflesh, but he takes a lot of handling. Certainly, Mrs Lovatt can manage him, but she’s a fine horsewoman. I think it rather foolhardy to let any less skilful rider onto his back.’

‘Sybella is already feeling it hard, blaming herself for ever giving in to Lucie’s entreaties. I hope you are not going to scold her further.’