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He managed a smile at that. A genuine one. He looked at her hand held gently in his, and ran his thumb over her knuckles, making her breath catch. He then tucked it into his arm and led her to the card tables.

Chapter 12

HARYO

London

‘Aunt Bessborough!’ Harriet moved to greet her aunt as she came through the door to the parlour at Devonshire house. She looked worn and tired, but she lifted her cheek for Haryo to kiss. Harriet obliged.

‘How lovely to see you. You look beautiful, as always.’

‘Piffle, darling, I look like a hag and we both know it.’

Harriet murmured a protest as her aunt dropped heavily into a chair near the fire and breathed loudly. Her mother’s sister had been a stunningly beautiful woman in her day, but time had not been kind. She had gone from being society’s darling to a matron of some standing. She didn’t like it above much, and resentment often coloured her outlook on life.

Her aunt had not always been on Harriet’s list of favourite people. In fact, there had been long stretches where she felt her aunt was quite beyond the pale. But since her mother’s death, they had grown closer.

‘How is dear cousin Caro?’ she felt compelled to ask. Caro was, at the best times, highly strung, but having recently suffered the loss of a baby was particularly fragile.

‘Unhappy,’ Aunt Bessborough said as she adjusted her position in the chair with a huff of effort. The significant amount of weight that she had gained in recent years was affecting her movement. It worried Harriet.

‘Unhappy and will no doubt be with us before long.’

Before she could say much more, Lady Liz came into the room with her latest bosom bow, whose name escaped her. They were giggling like children, not fifty-year-old women, and talking in such baby tones it made Haryo want to scream and run for her room.

‘Haryo, darling, and dearest Bess, too.’ She rushed over and hugged them both. Haryo wanted to laugh at the look on Aunt Bess’s face.

‘Have you been to see the latest addition to the family?’ she said, with a simpering smile, fluttering her hands by her face. ‘They are absolutely adorable.’

Harriet saw her aunt roll her eyes behind Lady Liz’s back. Her father’s devotion to his dogs was well known. Her mother had hated his dogs, largely because he spent more time with them than with his family. But Lady Liz was more astute. She feigned adoration for them, and in doing so, won her father’s distant heart.

‘I haven’t been to see them, but I imagine that you most certainly have.’

‘Of course.’ She pouted in a way she probably thought was pretty, and twenty years ago may have been, Harriet thought in a pettish moment. ‘I wouldn’t miss them for the world. They are such a comfort to your dear father. They give him such solace.’

Harriet tried not to sigh noticeably. The damned woman was so transparent. She herself had an excessively annoying whippet named Sidney that she dragged everywhere with her and made everyone coddle. He was the smelliest creature and prone to snapping. Fortunately, she appeared to have left him somewhere else today.

‘Oh, look,’ Harriet broke off, as the door opened and more visitors entered. ‘Do excuse me.’ She turned away and sailed across the room, arms outstretched to greet her cousin, Caro.

Caro kissed her cheek and squeezed her hands, but her beautiful, heart-shaped face framed with her fabled golden curls was pale and her attempt at a smile, wan. Harriet felt for Caro, even though she was often difficult. Her marriage was unhappy, and only a few months ago she had lost her baby, but of course no-one ever mentioned it. They just expected her to forget and move on with her life.

‘You look well, love. How are you faring?’

She sighed so heavily, her ringlets quivered. ‘William is being abominably awkward, the weather is vile, and I think I may be starting with a sick headache.’

‘Poor you,’ Harriet murmured and stroked her arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She kissed Caro’s cheek. ‘Come, let us cheer you!’

She linked arms with her and walked her over to where Caro’s mother sat.

‘Your mama will be pleased to have your company, as am I.’

Caro sat beside her mother with a disinterested sniff, flicking imaginary specks from her sleeve, and refused to smile when Lady Liz tried to tell her about the puppies. She ignored her mother’s overture at conversation, causing Aunt Bess to roll her eyes and resort to her fan. It was clearly going to be one of those days where delightful, charming Caro turned into sulky, ill-tempered Caro. Although this time, Harriet knew she had just cause.

She was grateful when the door opened to admit her father, the duke, and she had the chance to divert her attention from Caro and Lady Liz. She stood to greet him, walking away from the cluster of people around the fireplace.

He looked dreadful. His hair was awry, his coat covered in dog fur, and his cravat was sorely in need of attention. He looked, quite frankly, grubby. Harriet sighed, but at that moment, the door opened again to admit someone Harriet would really rather not have seen.

Lord Granville Leveson-Gower.