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Hannah replied with gratifying swiftness. She sounded quite jolly although it was sometimes difficult to tell how Hannah was feeling. She was very good at buttoning up and keeping everything to herself.

The letter arrived during breakfast, at exactly the same time as her mother, the Dowager Countess Grey, deigned to grace the breakfast room with her presence.

‘Mama.’ Eliza stood, then went to kiss her mother on the cheek. Since Papa had died, Mama had aged noticeably. She’d lost much of her sparkle, too. It was saddening.

‘Eliza.’

The footman served her mother, but Eliza helped herself to some scrambled eggs and toast. She was settling her napkin on her lap when the door opened, and another footman offered her a letter on a salver.

‘And who might that be from?’ her mother asked, taking a sip of her tea.

‘I think it might be from Hannah, Mama. I wrote to her to see if she was having a splendid time in London.’

‘I have little doubt that she will.’ Her mother spread jam onto a slice of toast and then cut it into neat triangles.

‘It’s been such a difficult time for her. Now she is out of mourning, the London season might just help her feel more the thing,’ Eliza said, with a bright smile.

‘Exactly what I thought. It will do her the world of good to go out into society and meet some people. She would do well to remarry.’ Her mother took a delicate bite.

Eliza bit her tongue, but her head was shouting inside. Did it ever occur to you that I might need some time in London too? Might need a come-out ball? Have a season? Find a husband? Escape this place?

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ her mother asked, giving her a pointed look over the toast and jam.

Eliza bit back a sigh and broke the seal. She scanned the words, and they were everything she might have wanted Hannah to say. But what to say to Mama? How to broach the subject?

‘Well?’ The dowager picked up a piece of toast.

‘She is very well, and she wondered if I might join her in London.’

Her mother paused in her activity to level one of her looks at her. One that did not bode well. ‘Out of the question.’

She put the toast in her mouth and chewed delicately.

‘Am… Am I not to have a come out, Mama?’

Eliza waited whilst her mother chewed and swallowed very slowly. She picked up her napkin and dabbed it against the corners of her mouth. ‘You are not old enough.’

‘I’m eighteen, Mama. Hannah had her come out when she was seventeen. So did Elizabeth.’

Her mother looked puzzled for a moment. ‘Eighteen. Goodness, how time flies. However, the fact remains that you are not out, and it would not be appropriate for you to go to London. Besides, I need you here.’

Eliza folded the letter carefully. ‘Perhaps I could stay with Charles and Mary, too?’

Her mother didn’t even offer a comment to that. Instead, she poured herself some tea.

‘Your brother George and his wife will visit us shortly, and so will your sister Elizabeth with her family. We shall have a full house. I will need you here.’

‘How lovely,’ Eliza said, looking at her plate. Between them, her brother George and her sister Elizabeth, they had nine children, to say nothing of Charles and Mary’s children already in the house. It didn’t take a huge amount of imagination to work out what Eliza would be engaged in for the next few weeks. Sometimes she wondered what would happen in the family if she said no, she would not entertain the children, no she would not look after them whilst everyone went and had a wonderful time. But like her longing for a husband to help her escape, it was merely a daydream.

True to her mother’s word, a few days later, a veritable army of children descended on the house, along with her siblings. Amid the mayhem, Eliza had not given up. She was still trying to fathom a way to get to London. She had to admit that as the children grew older, they made for better company, but in between keeping a close watch on the older boys tearing around the garden fighting the French with swords fashioned from sticks and trying to persuade the young ones not to eat the plants, she was hot and exhausted.

As she suspected, George and his wife arrived sans nanny. Her sister Elizabeth had brought hers, fortunately, so all was not completely lost.

Eliza really needed to freshen up. Her mother was expecting the Earl of Bessborough and his wife for afternoon tea. It was a very pleasant diversion for Eliza as the Earl’s wife, Lady Bessborough, was the sister of the late Duchess of Devonshire, and Eliza had adored the Duchess beyond measure. She’d been a regular visitor to their London home from when Eliza was small to her passing a couple of years ago. She had always made time for her, always spoken to her and brought her little gifts. She’d been kind to her in a way that people rarely were, and it was something that had stayed with her all her life. She had cried for days when the Duchess died and still became emotional if she thought about her too much.

She raced up the stairs and flung herself into her bedchamber. Millie had laid out her outfit, but she needed to wash away the dust of frolicking with the children.

As Millie helped her to prepare, Eliza glanced at the dress she had selected, and she realised she needed to speak to her mother about refurbishing her wardrobe. Many of her dresses were looking shabby and barely fit, which was not becoming of an eighteen-year-old daughter of an earl. She eyed the drab green with disfavour. That particular shade did absolutely nothing for her, but it was probably the best of her dresses for receiving guests.