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Marcus found that the proposition that had been put to him by Lady Amelia, and his acceptance of it, had improved his state of mind a little, and gave him the sensation of having won a precious breathing space.

This was in one sense an illusion, of course.

He knew that Lavinia would make him pay, one way or another, even for the young lady’s innocent presence in his mother’s box at the theatre.

But their opportunities for private conversation were limited now, and even Lavinia was not so far lost to all sense of propriety that she would appear at his home at midnight, banging on the door to demand to know what he was about.

He was sure he might expect her soon enough in a slightly more orderly fashion, accompanied by the child she used so often as her excuse for visiting, though once they were alone in his chamber, she would no doubt commence flaying him alive.

Yet on this occasion, her very unreasonableness worked against her; since he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, he suggested to his sister that they call upon Lady Amelia later that afternoon and ask her to come walking in the park with them, as it was a fine day.

‘You really are resolved to go through with this?’ Helena asked him with a slight frown. She had put on her best green velvet pelisse and matching bonnet, and accompanied him out of the house without protest, but she seemed uncertain now.

‘I am determined to do it,’ he said. ‘And if I am, I do not see why you should suddenly experience doubts. It seems perverse of you, Nell. You were a great enthusiast for the plan just a day or two ago.’

‘I was, and I remain so. I do believe it has a chance of success. But I saw Lavinia’s face last night; she was quite furious, though she concealed it, and as yet you have done nothing really to make her so angry.’

‘Do you think I am a coward?’ They’d never discussed the matter in such plain terms before; perhaps it was time.

‘No,’ she shot back. ‘Of course I don’t.

I think you are in a horribly difficult situation, and Lavinia has no intention of making it any easier.

Quite the reverse, in fact. Before this, she was enjoying herself enormously.

I have seen her almost preen to be the centre of attention, and yet such attention. I could shake her!’

‘I’ve told her in plain words that I will never marry her, you know. And more than once.’ It mattered to him that his sister trusted him in this.

‘But she doesn’t believe you?’

‘She doesn’t want to believe me, and so she refuses to do so. I shouldn’t discuss her with you though, Nell, tempting as it is to relieve my feelings. It isn’t honourable.’

‘It may not be, but I do not give a button for that and nor should you. After all, she is making me suffer too. It’s not precisely enjoyable for me and for poor Mama, with Ambrose dead less than eighteen months, to watch her making a cake of herself – to put it no more strongly, though I might – and of you. ’

He could not deny the truth of what his sister said.

‘Perhaps this may indeed be a way to stop her, to force her to accept that whatever happens, I will not wed her. The only way that is open to me, if she refuses to believe me when I tell her so. I can’t engage myself really to marry someone just to drive Lavinia off – it would not be fair to any woman to expose her to such unpleasantness for my sake, and there is no space in my head or my heart even to consider the matter properly and find a bride for myself.

How could I really think of wooing any woman, situated as I am?

This pretence is all I am capable of. But it will be unpleasant, you know, much more unpleasant than you have any idea of yet – it cannot fail to be. I hope Lady Amelia is prepared for it.’

She tucked her hand in his arm. ‘She says she is. Well, we will all face it together.’

Marcus was surprised, and not particularly pleased, though of course it could not signify, to find his old friend Jeremy comfortably ensconced in Lord Wyverne’s house in Brook Street when he arrived there with his sister.

Mr Gastrell greeted the Major with his usual amiability and glibly explained – though of course he had no need to justify his presence to anyone, least of all Marcus – that he had thought it only proper to call upon the Wyvernes directly after he had made Lady Amelia’s acquaintance the evening before.

‘Thought I should pay my respects to the Marchioness,’ he said.

‘Should have done so long before this, but she is gracious enough to forgive me for my lack of manners!’ And he kissed his fingers to the Wyverne ladies in a fashion that made Marcus suddenly itch to trip him up, or otherwise make a fool of him and shake his damnable suavity.

Lady Wyverne indeed appeared charmed by Jeremy, as women so often and so unaccountably were, and smiled on him graciously; Lady Amelia seemed no less taken with him than she had the night before.

And somehow – Marcus had not the least idea how it came about, and certainly had not been consulted on the scheme, or he’d have vetoed it – they soon found themselves a party of four strolling together in the park.

Marcus was aware that he was frowning, and could not seem to help it.

It was the hour of the fashionable promenade and a fine, sunny afternoon, so the place was extremely busy.

Ladies took the air in barouches and landaulets, or were driven by gentlemen in dashing, high-perch phaetons; some bolder ornaments of the ton drove themselves and made a fine show, no less skilled whipsters than their male counterparts.

But there were also sufficient throngs of pedestrians to make the paths almost crowded.

Mr Gastrell and Lord Thornfalcon were obliged to greet many persons with whom they were acquainted, though neither Helena nor Lady Amelia had more to do than return a nod once or twice.

But many more who did not speak to them watched them avidly as they passed.

They could not walk four abreast, and Marcus counted himself fortunate to outmanoeuvre his sly friend and take Lady Amelia’s arm, so that Jeremy squired Helena, whether he liked it or not.

Marcus didn’t give a fig if Gastrell didn’t like it; in fact, he hoped he didn’t, because he was damned if he wanted his insinuating friend playing his flirtatious tricks on either young lady.

Curse him, he was fair and far off if he thought he could trifle with either Marcus’s sister or…

whatever Lady Amelia was to him. There wasn’t a word for what she was. Not yet.

He only became aware that he was still behaving like a bear with a sore head, despite his victory, when Lady Amelia said, amusement in her voice, ‘It’s perfectly true that you probably don’t need to speak to me at all to set tongues wagging about the mere fact that we are in each other’s company, sir.

And certainly, I am not asking you to do anything as extreme as to smile in my general direction, or make any sort of polite conversation.

God forbid. But I had no notion that being wooed would be so excessively dull and silent, I must admit.

Next time, I shall bring my sewing, or a good book. ’

He looked down at her, still frowning. She was smiling at him with a most unwelcome gleam of intelligence and understanding in her fine, dark eyes.

‘Am I being dull?’ he asked. He couldn’t deny that he had been largely silent.

No doubt Jeremy – in the unlikely event of being accused of such a thing – would have turned the pert words away with a quip that won his companion over. But he was not made that way.

‘Terribly dull. And your constant scowl is most off-putting. I’m sure Mr Gastrell would be a far more amusing escort. Look at him, making your sister laugh.’

Marcus gritted his teeth, observing that what she said was quite true.

‘No doubt he would! But then he is a practised cicisbeo, and I am not. Yet if I am to woo you, madam, it will scarcely serve our purpose – or do your precious reputation any good at all – if you should be seen flirting with him, or any other such light sort of fellow, day and night.’

He half-expected her to accuse him of jealousy, a claim he would have repudiated with unflattering promptness and emphasis. But no, he had underestimated her.

‘It’s true,’ she sighed. ‘I am sorry it should be so, but there it is. There is to be no flirting at all for me, since it is plain that you would never engage in such an enjoyable activity. I suppose I must resign myself to tedium and your gloomy looks. Unless you should care to tell me interesting details of your military experiences, of course, and all the brave actions in battle of which we hear so much.’

‘I should not!’ he said, revolted. ‘I think you must be confusing me with the coxcomb I appear to be in the da—in the cursed public prints.’

‘It is just that I have observed – though my experience is somewhat limited, I admit – that gentlemen often do enjoy talking about themselves at great length. And you don’t seem inclined to ask me any questions, so what is to be done?’

‘I do not need to ask you any questions at all to discover that what you are, Lady Amelia, is a shameless minx.’

‘It has been said,’ she admitted, a fugitive dimple peeping for a moment in her smooth cheek. ‘But look! Here is my brother Charlie, one of the people who has said it, wandering about aimlessly. Let me present him to you, sir.’