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If Lord Thornfalcon had really thought that public recognition of his courtship of Lady Amelia would make either of their situations immediately easier, it was soon clear that he’d been wrong.

Their appearance driving together in the park had drawn stares and glares from many of the people who had seen it.

The caricaturist produced a fine piece – for those of a mind to appreciate it – to commemorate the event, which showed His Lordship in his phaeton with a gang of ladies chasing it in a wild pack, ripping their flimsy garments as the horses reared in terror.

For the first time, Amelia herself appeared, quite recognisable to anyone who knew her, her bonnet flying away and her long, dark hair coming loose.

She was shown clinging on to Marcus’s broad, uniformed chest and begging him in an uncurling ribbon of desperate speech not to let her fall, lest she be torn to pieces.

His reply was somewhat less than gallant:

O, my dear Lady A, I promise you I shall not, for if they catch us, they will rend me limb from limb too!

And the superscription was:

An Heroic Wooing

Lavinia was nowhere to be seen in this instance, which was the only small mercy.

Mr Gastrell, meeting his friend at White’s late the next afternoon, was quick to show him this work of art, in his self-appointed role as daily gadfly.

The cheerfully vulgar print lying between them on the table, he raised an eyebrow in enquiry and said casually, ‘The fellow seems to think your intentions are serious.’

‘I can see that for myself,’ came the short response.

‘Honestly, old man, it’s a mystery to me why so many fine, young women persist in making spectacles of themselves over you when you barely have a civil word or a smile for any of them – or for anybody at all, come to that, these days, even your oldest and most devoted friend – save for Lady Amelia.

It is not surprise that the caricature johnny has taken good note of it. ’

‘Is that so?’ Marcus was aware that his manner was menacing and his tone terse, but Jeremy did not appear to be intimidated; he was still smiling wryly and would clearly not be put off.

‘Very well, then – if you must know, damn your eyes and your impudence, yes, I do mean to offer for Her Ladyship. Her brother has told me that he will not oppose me, but it must be her decision. I have not asked her yet, but I will without delay. It is monstrously unfair to leave her thus exposed to insult. I wonder if she has seen this latest atrocity.’

Mr Gastrell whistled and looked sharply at him. ‘Matters have progressed so far, then! And I cannot doubt that she will accept you when you offer. You are the catch of the Season, naturally, but she is a fine match indeed. I shall be congratulating you soon, old fellow!’

Marcus looked at him squarely. ‘It had occurred to me once or twice that you might have some interest in that quarter yourself. Was I mistaken?’

‘Completely,’ said his friend cheerfully.

‘I won’t say it hadn’t occurred to me that I might test the waters to see if you were serious, and how you’d feel about a little opposition in the field – but it soon became pretty plain to me that you were.

Which was vastly interesting news. So I left off immediately.

You must have noticed it. Never let anybody say that I need telling a thing twice.

No flies on Lady Gastrell’s firstborn, dear old boy. ’

Marcus had always thought his old companion had never looked at a woman seriously in his life, but passed from one flirtation to another – to put it no more strongly – like the proverbial bee in a garden of bright and tempting flowers.

But he was not sure he believed him now in his disavowal of any serious intention towards Amelia.

Of course he must claim as much, since Marcus had just informed him that he was about to offer for the lady in question.

He hoped Jeremy’s heart was not seriously wounded; what a coil they would be in, if it were.

He could hardly let him know that the wooing was all for show, and yet if he did not, he wronged his friend gravely.

‘If you are gammoning me in this fashion because you really care for her, Jem, I am very sorry?—’

‘Gammoning you? I’m telling you I never did, you complete gudgeon.

Not a pin. I’m telling you too – now that it seems you’re over your old infatuation and have moved on, not before time – that there’s only ever been one woman for me, ever since I came home from school with you as a callow stripling and set eyes on her for the first time.

I lost my heart to her then, so surpassingly lovely as she was, and somehow, I have never found a way of getting it back.

I knew I could never have a chance with her when she was yours, I wouldn’t have dreamed of such a thing, nor when she was married to your brother, of course, but now… ’

‘Lavinia.’

‘No, your aunt Susan! Of course Lavinia, you beetle-headed old idiot. Always Lavinia. I must confess, I don’t always like her very much, especially not at the moment, but I love her and it seems there is no getting free of it.’

‘I’m sorry. I truly am, Jeremy.’

‘Nothing to be sorry for, man. She loved you first – she loves you still, for all I know. She certainly gives every sign of it. But I can continue to be patient. What I’m hoping is, it’s come to be a sort of habit with her, and she simply doesn’t see any other way to be.

And she’s rather painted herself into a corner with this tale she’s spun about your great and noble love.

Such a hero as she’s made you – I scarcely recognise you.

She’s in desperate need of help and doesn’t know it, my poor angel.

I have to find a way to persuade her that my love is just as great and noble, if not more so, being secret and unrequited for so long.

I have every confidence I can pull it off.

Have you ever known me to fail in anything I set out to do? ’

‘Good God, Jem, I’m so cork-brained. I swear I never had the first idea.’

‘Well, I didn’t mean that you should. Mum as an oyster, that’s me.’

‘And you would wish to marry her, and bring up the child…’

‘Ghastly brat,’ said Mr Gastrell cheerfully. ‘Needs taking in hand. But you forget, I have a dashed houseful of younger brothers and sisters. I’m not scared of young Miss Thornfalcon. I’m quite sure she’s sound at heart.’

Marcus was silent for a moment, wondering if he should tell his friend what Lavinia had claimed about Priscilla’s parentage.

It might be true – that was the worst of it – in which case, her suitor should know it, but if it wasn’t, it showed Jeremy’s idol in no very flattering light.

Nor him, for that matter, though he could not regard that in such a moment of seriousness.

And as for Lavinia’s continuing attempts to seduce him…

Mr Gastrell said abruptly, ‘I don’t want this to come between us and our long friendship.

I’m a selfish sort of fellow, you know me – I want it all and the moon too, all tied up in a bow.

So understand me, Thorn, for I mean this – I won’t ask you about anything that happened in the past, nor blame either of you for it.

We all have our little histories, don’t we?

If she should choose to tell me anything, if things between us were ever…

I should be honoured beyond measure by her confidence.

But I won’t hear anything from you, now or ever, even if you should want to tell me, which, old man, I should hope you don’t. A lady’s good name and all that.’

The decision had been taken from him, then; he could only be glad of it, and bless his friend’s unexpected tact.

Marcus reached out and clasped his hand strongly.

‘I hope I shall be wishing you happy too before long, Jem. I can’t give her to you or help you to win her; that would be the action of a damned coxcomb, for she’s not mine to give.

I don’t… It’s impossible to speak of it, but I hope you will achieve all the good things you deserve and live a long and happy life together.

And I can’t think of a better father for Priscilla – my poor brother would be delighted if he could know of it.

He was devilish fond of you too, you know, in his quiet way. ’

‘Steady,’ said Mr Gastrell, some obstruction temporarily making his speech a little hoarse.

‘We have said enough, I think, dear old boy. More than enough. Can’t have us weeping over each other like watering pots in White’s, of all places.

Not at all the done thing. Brooks’s, of course, who knows what they get up to there?

Would you care for a glass of Madeira, Thorn? I know I would.’