‘Surely, Mama,’ Jane said mildly, ‘you can see that Lord Philip has no wish for my company-no more than I have for his! We are not suited.’

Lady Verey looked affronted. ‘Not suited! What nonsense is this? It is my dearest wish that Lord Philip should renew his attentions! Now, he will be at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner tomorrow and I expect to see an improvement in your manner towards him, Jane! Pray show him some partiality!’

‘Excuse me, my lady.’ Golding, the butler, had soft-footed into the room. ‘There is a posy here for Miss Jane.’ He snapped his fingers and the footman hurried forward, carrying a small but exquisite bouquet of tight pink roses.

Lady Verey’s irritated face broke into a smile. ‘From Lord Philip, no doubt! I expect he was too shy to present it himself, the foolish boy!’

Jane took the posy, wondering at her mother’s championing of a man who had been so offensive to her only a month before. No doubt Lady Verey had conveniently ascribed Lord Philip’s behaviour to a temporary aberration or boyish high spirits. She had to agree, however, that the flowers were beautiful, each tiny bud a deep pink colour and on the point of unfurling. She extracted the card and handed the flowers back to the footman to put in water. Much as she would like to send them back, it seemed a churlish gesture and Lady Verey would never permit it. She could not resist a certain curiosity to see the message. What could Lord Philip say to her that would not appear either rude or insincere?

The bold black writing had come from another pen, however. It was not an apology, only a name: Alexander Delahaye.

Jane caught her breath and pressed the card to her chest in case her mother was about to snatch it from her. Lady Verey was still twittering on about Lord Philip and his thoughtful choice of flowers and Jane did not contradict her. She excused herself as quickly as possible and flew up the stairs to her bedroom. The posy was already on a side table by the window, its pink buds just tinged with gold. Jane hesitated. She could have torn the card into pieces and thrown it away, but instead she placed it carefully in a drawer, on a bed of silk ribbons.

The sensation at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner was caused not by the presence of Lord Philip Delahaye but by that of his elder brother. For years the hostesses of the ton had tried to entice the Duke of Delahaye from his self-imposed seclusion, offering him the most tempting food and the best company. For years he had rejected all invitations. Yet that evening he arrived with Lord Philip in a convincing show of brotherly unity and caused Lady Winterstoke positively to crow with triumph.

Jane’s heart had sunk when she saw them come in. It seemed that the Duke and his brother must be forever dogging her steps and spoiling things for her. After all, it was Alexander Delahaye’s avowed intent to wear down her resistance until she capitulated and agreed to the marriage. She had spent much time thinking of the bouquet he had sent her and had come to the practical conclusion that it was an attempt to soften her feelings towards the match. Well-her pretty face set into lines of obstinate disapproval-it would not work! No matter how romantic it had seemed at first, in truth it was just another means by which Alex Delahaye hoped to manipulate her!

Accordingly, she was looking very severe when Lady Winterstoke brought the Duke and Lord Philip over to them as the guests assembled before dinner.

‘I was about to inquire how you were enjoying yourself, Miss Verey,’ Alex said lazily, once greetings had been exchanged, ‘but you look so forbidding that I hardly dare! Can it be that Town does not agree with you?’

Jane checked to see whether her mother was listening. Fortunately Lady Verey was intent on engaging Lord Philip in innocuous conversation and deflecting his attention from Sophia. She gave the Duke a dazzling smile. ‘Well, your Grace, it is not all bad, I suppose! The theatres and concerts are great fun but the company is sadly lacking-it seems to be the same people saying the same things to each other at the same events!’

Alex smiled. ‘That’s frank, Miss Verey! You are not afraid to blight your social position by appearing an eccentric? Young ladies are meant to be bowled over by the sophisticated charms of the Town, you know!’

‘It seems to me that a lot of nonsense is talked about Society!’ Jane said judiciously. ‘If people enjoy the company and the entertainments then so be it, but if they prefer other pursuits then they should be allowed their choice!’

‘How singular,’ Alex said thoughtfully, ‘and how true! You are quite fearless, are you not, Miss Verey? I know of no other lady who would express such a view even if they believed it!’

‘Yet you yourself do not succumb to the charms of Society a great deal, if the stories are true,’ Jane pointed out, feeling at the same time that her tongue was probably running away with her again. ‘I had heard that the Duke of Delahaye chooses to immure himself in his northern stronghold with only his books for company!’

‘And his faithful dogs,’ Alex added. ‘Do not forget the dogs, Miss Verey! What else do they say of me?’

‘Oh, many things,’ Jane said, plying her fan, ‘but none of them appropriate for a young lady to repeat in company!’

They laughed together, stopped together and stood looking at each other in a silence that seemed curiously loaded. Only a foot away, Sophia was chattering to Philip and Lady Verey was gossiping with one of her acquaintances. Jane made an effort to break the silence.

‘I must thank you for the flowers, sir. They were very beautiful.’

‘They reminded me of you,’ Alex said abruptly. ‘Excuse me, Miss Verey.’

Jane was left feeling breathless and disconcerted. She had imagined him a man accustomed to paying light compliments, but his unexpected words and hasty departure had none of the polish that might have been expected. Frowning a little, she watched him cross the room, spare a word for a distinguished gentleman in uniform, then be artfully ambushed by a dashing blonde in a clinging scarlet silk dress. Jane felt a vague depression settle on her.

Excusing herself to her mother, Jane slipped away to the ladies’ withdrawing room so that she should not be obliged to make stilted conversation with Lord Philip. Whilst tweaking her curls back into place, she reflected that the Duke was likely to be one step ahead of her in arranging for his brother to escort her in to dinner. The seating would no doubt be in order of precedence but, at a word from Alex Delahaye, Lady Winterstoke would gladly rearrange her table plan. Peeking down the corridor to confirm that she was not being watched, Jane decided to detour via the dining-room and examine the place cards.

Her suspicions had been justified. Lord Philip’s place was set beside hers and he was a long way away from Sophia for good measure. Jane made a little adjustment and was on her way back to the drawing-room when, in the doorway, she collided abruptly with a broad chest.

‘Oh!’

‘We meet again, Miss Verey,’ the Duke of Delahaye said, in the deceptively soft tones that Jane had already come to distrust. ‘Have you lost something?’

‘No!’ Jane knew that a guilty blush was staining her cheeks. ‘That is-I lost my way!’

‘I see. I had thought that your penchant for food had led you to try to steal a march on the rest of us!’

Jane looked surprised. ‘Who told you that I enjoyed my food, sir?’

‘Why, I believe that it was my aunt, Lady Eleanor. She commented that you had a sweet tooth.’ Alex offered her his arm and they strolled back across the hall towards the drawing-room. ‘No doubt it was ungallant in me to mention it, but I have to confess that you look very good on it, Miss Verey! Not all young ladies are fortunate enough to be able to eat as they choose and not look the worse for it!’

Jane, relieved that he had not discovered her activities in the dining-room and guilty at spinning another tale, started to colour once again. Alex was watching her with undisguised interest.

‘I am not sure whether it is guilt or pleasure that makes you look so, Miss Verey! If only it were my poor compliments that put you to the blush!’

Jane found herself unable to resist responding in kind. ‘I am sure that most young ladies would be overcome to be the object of your gallantry, your Grace!’ she said sweetly.

‘But not you, Miss Verey? No doubt that is your implication!’

‘Alas, I have always been told that I am not like all the rest!’ Jane said innocently. ‘You said so yourself!’ She dropped him a neat curtsy and went to join her mother, managing not to look back at him over her shoulder.

Alex watched her go. ‘No, indeed,’ he said softly, under his breath. ‘You are not like anyone else, Miss Verey! I would venture to say that you are completely original!’

The butler arrived to announce that dinner was served. Jane was delighted to see Alex move away to attend to his duties as escort to a Dowager Countess in regal purple. She confidently expected that that would leave the field clear for her to exchange partners. Next, Lady Verey was claimed by an elderly baronet, who seemed flatteringly pleased at his good luck. That got rid of the final obstacle to Jane’s plan. All it required now was for Lord Philip to be recalled to his duty as her escort. Unfortunately he seemed disinclined to leave Sophia’s side. Jane wondered whether he meant to cut her anyway, and thought this would be rather funny after all the trouble she had gone to. But no, Sophia was gently encouraging her beau to relinquish her and escort her friend. As Lord Philip approached, Jane stepped forward to intercept him.

‘I am so very sorry, my lord, but I fear that there has been a mistake,’ she said, with a winning smile. ‘I happened to see the table plan and I fear that Lady Winterstoke has made an error, for she has placed Miss Marchment by your side rather than myself.’ She saw Lord Philip cast an incredulous glance in Sophia’s direction and added, ‘I am sure that we would not wish to embarrass our hostess, so the best thing would surely be for us to exchange escorts. I hope that Lord Blakeney could be prevailed upon to accompany me, if you would be so good as to offer Miss Marchment your arm.’