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They stood in silence for a moment whilst everyone regained their composure.

Eliza was trembling inside. How she was going to face the humiliation, she had no idea. But then she realised, with a sinking and miserable heart, that she would not have to. Mama would take her back to Howick and that would be the end of her time in London. Probably forever. There would be no more comfortable cozes with Haryo, no more walks and laughter with Hart, no more society, no more Lieutenant Colonel Ellice.

No more hope.

‘I suggest we discuss this calmly over tea,’ Charles said before Mama could respond. ‘Eliza, please sit down and let us all take a moment to regain our composure.’

Everyone sat and Charles took a moment to squeeze her arm gently as she moved to her seat. She appreciated the gesture.

Mama raised an imperious eyebrow. ‘What are we to discuss?’ she said. ‘Eliza will return to Northumberland and live with George at Fallodon. He needs help with the children, and she may as well be useful.’

Eliza kept a firm grip on her emotions and refused to look up. She tried to keep the tears at bay, but one splashed on the back of her hand. She hurriedly scrubbed it away and waited as they were to make plans around her. Charles’s response, however, surprised her.

‘Mama, if George needs help with the children, he should hire a nanny or a governess. Eliza is neither. She is his beloved sister, and it is grossly unfair of him to expect her to be his unpaid help. If you feel humiliated by gossip about a non-existent season, imagine how I felt to hear that someone visiting your household thought Eliza was the governess.’

Eliza put a hand to her head again as another tear fell. Charles was trying to help, she was sure of it, but Mama was going to explode. She truly was. She risked a glance, and her mother’s face was puce. Eyes stone cold.

‘Who on earth had thought she was a governess? How dare they make such an assumption? This really is the edge of enough.’

The two stared at each other, but it was her mother who looked away.

‘But… but what will people say?’ Hannah said into the silence that followed. ‘If Eliza doesn’t have a come out, people will want to know why and if we don’t explain why, they will simply make things up. If people are already saying we treat her like a governess, then…’ She shrugged as though there were simply no words to describe the shame that would ensue. ‘What should we say when asked?’ She looked at Eliza, then at their mother. ‘Even I don’t understand why she isn’t having a come out. If we don’t know, how do we explain it to others without it sounding like we do treat her differently?’

The ormolu clock on the mantel ticked as they stared at each other in horrified realisation.

Mary cleared her throat and sat a little straighter. ‘When is Queen Charlotte’s ball?’

‘In just over four weeks,’ Hannah said.

Mary nodded, tapping a finger to her lips. ‘Summonses are received three weeks before the event. So, in theory, we might be able to get Eliza approved, but it would be cutting it very fine.’ She looked at Charles. ‘We need to submit an application to the Lord Chamberlain and Mama would need to be Eliza’s sponsor.’ Mary frowned. ‘Who is the Lord Chamberlain?’

‘It’s Lord Hartford, I know him quite well,’ Charles said.

‘If Mama were to submit an application, as sponsor, I’m sure I could make sure things move swiftly.’

‘Would you do it, Mama?’ Mary said.

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘There is always a choice, Mama. This is one way to save our reputation. Do you want to take it? His tone was not unkind, but Mama bristled.

Mary sighed. ‘If you are terribly opposed, the Cavendishes might sponsor her. If they involve the Dowager Countess Spencer and Lady Bessborough, I imagine they could achieve most anything.’

Eliza couldn’t breathe. At all.

Mama stared frigidly at her daughter-in-law. ‘Find me some paper.’

Mary went to get paper, and Mama turned back to Charles. ‘And the expense? A court dress, a new wardrobe, a ball?’

‘I will stand the expense if the estate cannot.’

Mama quivered. ‘I cannot condone this.’

Charles remained unmoved in the face of Mama’s wrath. ‘Eliza can and will be presented. We need say no more. Your friends will be delighted to see you in London supporting your daughters, and all will be well. We shall return to Howick for the summer…’

‘Oh, will we? I heard you are to tear the building down and start again. The home that has been in our family for centuries to be demolished. The home your father cherished. Our heritage destroyed on some… whim of yours.’ She gave him a withering look. ‘I presume I shall be homeless.’

Eliza wondered how on earth Mama knew all these things being sequestered up in Northumberland. Her network of cronies put Napoleon’s spy operation to shame.