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He had admitted that she was right to be worried, and now, as he looked at the pile of notes before him, he wondered if it would make things better or worse if he told Lavinia of his betrothal to her face, before she heard of it from some other source or read it in the paper over the breakfast table.

No doubt the direct approach would be the decent thing to do – but did it not also imply that she had some special right to such delicate information?

It seemed to lend some credibility to the illicit bond she was determined to entangle him in; anyone who heard of it would be bound to think so.

Even to seek a private interview with her – which he had never done once since his return to England, or indeed since her marriage – was dangerous.

He couldn’t involve his mother – that would add insult to injury.

Could he insist that her mother be present when they spoke?

But surely, she would find that humiliating, as if she were a child and not an independent woman.

There didn’t seem to be a solution that could defuse this devilish situation without pain and bitterness.

At length, he decided that the bolder course would be the better.

He had an uneasy feeling that his choice was not motivated by anything resembling courage, but rather by a desire to know for sure that Lavinia knew, rather than be left wondering if she had heard yet.

And if she were furious, he might bear the brunt of it, in private, rather than whoever happened to tell her, in God knows what public place. Though this was probably a vain hope.

He called in Berkeley Square late that morning, and was fortunate, if that was the word, to discover her at home.

Finding her sitting reading with her child and her mama, he was reminded that his anger and frustration at her behaviour made him unjust to her sometimes; she loved Priscilla, and spent a great deal more time with her than many mothers of their station in life.

‘Uncle Marcus!’ lisped the moppet in ecstasies, and flung herself at him as she often did.

He was prepared this time and barely staggered, allowing himself to be drawn over to where she had been sitting so that she could show him her books, and the geographical puzzle she had been working on.

With no audience to observe them, or for her to play up to as she had been primed to do by Lavinia, it was possible to have a much more natural sort of conversation with her.

Perhaps Jeremy was right, with his greater experience of children, and she was more than the mechanical puppet he’d thought her.

She must be, he realised. He had been unjust to her too.

She was an innocent victim of this situation, and he must never forget it.

But he was aware all the while of Lavinia and her mother beaming complacently at the pretty domestic picture they presented as they sat together, and aware too that his sister-in-law could not refrain from sending significant glances in his direction whenever Priscilla said anything especially adorable.

What the sharp, violet-blue glances signified, of course, was, If you married me, you could spend every day with your child like this .

At length, he said with a slight, strained smile, ‘Lady Hall, I must have some private conversation with Lavinia, if you do not object. A mere family matter – it will not take long, I promise. I hope you will understand and permit it.’

Of course she would permit it. She would permit a deal more than that if it led to a marriage. She whisked Priscilla away, protesting, and closed the door firmly behind them. Screaming could soon be heard, faintly, from the corridor.

‘She loves you so,’ Lavinia said soulfully, apparently unsurprised. ‘It is only natural that she should be overset when you see her so rarely, and now arrive out of the blue to raise her hopes. It is unsettling for a child to live in such uncertainty.’

‘I did not create the uncertainty – you did. Lavinia, you must know that I am not here because I have finally relented and decided to marry you. I cannot allow you to continue with that delusion for a moment longer. I am sorry I am not closer to Priscilla, but it is unreasonable of you to expect me to seek out that closeness when it seems to me that all you want from it is a public show…’ She began to speak and he overrode her.

‘A public show designed to manipulate me into offering for you, when I have told you a dozen times that I never will.’

Her eyes flashed blue fire. ‘Then why are you here?’

‘To tell you that my engagement to Lady Amelia Wyverne will be announced tomorrow or the next day. It did not seem right to me that you should hear it from another, or come across it unawares. It is no baseless rumour – it is true.’

Her face was perfectly still – cold, lovely and unreadable. ‘How kind of you to visit me on purpose to tell me,’ she said acidly at last.

‘That is indeed what I came to do.’ He rose from his seat.

‘And that is all you have to say?’

‘What more is there to be said? We loved each other once, but that was over when you married Ambrose. That is the plain truth. I know the marriage was not of your choosing, but the past cannot be rewritten. You have called me a coward often enough, but that would only be true if I wished to marry you and did not dare. Lavinia – I cannot say it any more clearly – I don’t want to.

I do not know if I would laugh at all the difficulties in our path if I loved you; I don’t know because I don’t love you.

It can make no difference to you whether I marry Lady Amelia or another, or nobody. ’

‘I notice you do not think to tell me that you love her .’ She had risen too, and they stood facing each other like adversaries.

‘I will not discuss her with you. It would be unconscionable to do so. She is not your enemy, Lavinia – I pray you, do not make her one.’

‘And what if I tell her that Priscilla is yours? That I was in your bedchamber, naked, just a night or two ago? That you still desire me – I know you do – and will never be free of your obsession with me, even if you try to deny it? That you betrayed your own brother to lie with me because of it?’

‘Tell her if you must. I don’t suppose I can stop you.

I have no idea what her response would be, though I wouldn’t be so sure that she would believe you without question.

But think of your daughter, and do not take another step towards telling the whole world something that can only hurt her.

You seem to hate Amelia – do you really think it wise to entrust her, or anyone, with this secret?

Such things once said cannot be taken back, however bitterly one regrets them afterwards.

The storm of gossip that you have unleashed may yet turn and strike you down too, and your innocent child – Lavinia, can you not see that? ’

She slapped him then, hard.

He stood and took it, saying nothing in response, then walked from the room, and from the house. If he had his way, he would never return.