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doffing his hat to reveal blond curls. Two years older than they were, he still had the slim figure and round face of a youth, but had been rapidly maturing over the previous two years and would soon have all the mamas for miles around looking at him with an acquisitive eye.

      ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Hundon.’ Then, to Sophie, ‘Miss Roswell.’

      Sophie smiled. ‘Mr Harfield.’

      ‘It is so pleasant to be out after all the rain,’ Charlotte said, teasing him. ‘And we might not be able to do so much longer.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘We are both going to London for a Season. What do you think of that?’

      ‘Season?’ he echoed in dismay. ‘You mean you are to have a come-out and mix with all the eligibles?’

      ‘I mean exactly that,’ she said, laughing.

      He dismounted and walked over to grab both her hands, a gesture which Sophie knew she ought to discourage as being highly improper, but she had no heart to do it.

      ‘Charlie,’ he said, using the familiar name of childhood. ‘You wouldn’t…Would you?’

      ‘Now, who’s to say? I might…’

      ‘Oh, no, please say you are only teasing…’

      ‘I am only teasing.’ She looked at him with her head on one side, while Sophie pretended to examine something in the hedgerow. ‘But you know, Freddie, if your papa has his way, I should be holding myself back in vain.’

      ‘I will bring him round. Promise me you will be patient.’ He could hear the hunt fading in the distance. ‘I must go.’ He put her hands to his lips and reluctantly released them. The next minute he was astride his horse and galloping away.

      ‘You know, that was highly indecorous conduct,’ Sophie said, as they resumed their walk. ‘If anyone had seen you…’

      ‘But they didn’t, did they?’ Charlotte was smiling at the memory of her swain.

      ‘No, but it will be very different in London, you know. What might be acceptable behaviour in Upper Corbury would be enough to ruin your reputation in the capital. Do remember that, Charlie.’

      ‘There is no need to ring a peal over me, Sophie, I know I must be prim and proper when we go to London. Besides, Freddie will not be there and I shall not be tempted to stray.’

      Sophie was not so sure. Temptations there would be, she was certain, not only for Charlotte but for her too—she must not allow herself to forget Madderlea and why she was there.

      Three weeks later, they set off for London in the family coach, accompanied by Anne, who had been promoted from parlour maid to ladies’ maid, and escorted by Joseph, Mr Hundon’s groom, riding Sophie’s grey stallion. Joseph’s nineteen-year-old son, Luke, was riding Charlotte’s smaller horse. Joseph and the coachman were to return with the carriage immediately because William needed it, but Luke was to stay in London to look after their mounts. They would be relying on their hostess’s equipage to convey them around town.

      ‘Her name is Lady Fitzpatrick,’ William had told them on his return. ‘She is a distant cousin on my mother’s side. You have not met her because she moved to Ireland on her marriage and we did not correspond. She was widowed some years ago and returned to live in London. I went to ask her advice and she offered to sponsor you herself, which is very agreeable of her and saved me a great deal of time and trouble. She has a town house in Holles Street, not a top-of-the-trees area, but respectable enough.’

      ‘Some years ago,’ Charlotte echoed. ‘Does that mean she is old, Papa?’

      ‘No, I would not say old,’ he told them. ‘Mature and well able to deal with high-spirited girls.’

      ‘A dragon.’

      ‘Certainly not. In fact, she is a sympathetic sort and will stand well in loco parentis. I believe she might be a little short-sighted, for she uses a quizzing glass all the time, but that is of no account. I am sure you will like her; she impressed me very much with her sensibility and knowledge of what is right and proper.’

      This description hardly filled the girls with rapture, but it could not have been easy for him, a country gentleman not used to the haute monde. They were going to London for the Season and that was all that mattered.

      ‘Now, Sophie, you will have a care, will you not?’ he had said the day before, when they were in the throes of last-minute packing. ‘There will be unscrupulous men about and I do not want you to be gulled. Be guided by Lady Fitzpatrick and, whatever you do, do not commit yourself to anyone until I have seen and approved him. You do understand?’

      ‘Of course, Uncle.’

      ‘And the same goes for you, my love,’ he told his daughter. ‘And though you will not be the object of fortune hunters, you are a lovely girl and perhaps susceptible to flattery…’

      ‘Oh, Papa, I am not such a ninny. Besides, I am going to enjoy myself, not look for a husband. The man I want is in Upper Corbury.’

      He had laughed at that and said no more, though Aunt Madeleine, tearfully coming out to the carriage to wave goodbye to them, had reinforced everything he had said and more, extracting a promise from them that they would write every other day.

      ‘Oh, this is so exciting,’ Charlotte said, when they stopped for their first change of horses. Anne, who was a bad traveller, had curled herself up in the corner and gone to sleep. The girls allowed her to slumber on; it was easier to exchange confidences without eavesdroppers, however unintentional. ‘What time will we arrive, do you think?’

      ‘With luck, before it becomes dark,’ Sophie said.

      ‘I do hope Lady Fitzpatrick is not a dragon. I mean to enjoy myself, meeting all the eligibles. It will not hurt Freddie to think he has some competition.’

      Sophie envied her cousin her untroubled mind. ‘You may look forward to it, Charlie, but I am not so sanguine.’

      ‘Why not? You are rich as Croesus. Think of all the splendid gowns you will be able to buy, the pelisses, riding habits, bonnets and silk shawls. A new dress and a new bonnet for every occasion. And you will have all the young men dangling after you. In your shoes, I would be in ecstasies.’

      ‘I wish you could be in my shoes, Cousin, dear, for I would willingly trade places.’

      ‘You surely do not mean that.’

      ‘I do. Then I could choose a husband without him knowing who I am.’

      ‘And afterwards? He would have to know in the end.’

      ‘Yes, but by then we should have discovered we suited and he would not mind.’

      ‘No, I do not suppose he would, considering he had landed an heiress and not the simple country girl he thought he had won. Oh, Sophie, if you go about with that Friday face, you will surely put them all off.’

      Sophie laughed, her greeny-grey eyes danced with light and her face lit up with mischief. ‘I must not do that, must I?’

      ‘Certainly you must not, if you wish to catch that paragon you told me of.’

      They talked on as the coach rattled through the countryside, which gradually became more and more inhabited as one village followed another in quick succession. Then they were travelling on cobbles and there were buildings each side of the street, houses and inns and shops, and the streets were crowded with vehicles and people, in spite of the lateness of the hour. They leaned forward eagerly to look about them when they realised they had arrived in the metropolis. Sophie had seen some of it briefly on her way from Europe to Madderlea, but to Charlotte it was new and wonderful.

      Fifteen minutes later they turned into Holles Street and the carriage drew to a stop. The girls, peering out, saw a tall narrow house with evenly spaced windows and steps up to the front door, which was thrown

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