“Is that you, Julia?”

Her father’s voice. When she saw him she stopped short. Only once before, the night they learned Douglas had died at the Battle of Waterloo, had she seen his usually cheerful face so pale and drawn. “Papa, what is the matter?”

“It’s your mother. She suddenly collapsed this afternoon. The doctor says it’s her heart.”

In an instant her joy turned to anguish. “Will she be all right?”

“We don’t know yet. The doctor is still with her. I know you’ll want to see her, but first—” he laid a gentle hand on her arm “—you need to know that the cause of your mother’s collapse was you.”

Julia gasped and cried, “How could that be, Papa? You know I would never—”

“This afternoon a rumour reached her ears that you had been seen with Lord Melton’s younger brother, Robert Carstairs. You have been seen in his company more than once, and apparently quite enjoying yourself.” Papa looked her square in the eye. “You know how happy your mother has been, believing you were soon to become betrothed to Lord Melton. But now …” Papa’s voice broke. “Is it true, Julia? Are you involved with Robert Carstairs? If you are, I fear your mother may not survive another heartbreak.”

“Oh my God, I couldn’t bear it if—” Julia pressed her hand over her face, fighting back tears. “I wouldn’t hurt Mama for anything in the world.”

“I know you wouldn’t, daughter, but if you’re involved with this scoundrel, you will kill your mother as surely as if you had stabbed her in the heart.”

Never had her father spoken to her like that before. With a sinking anguish, she swallowed the sob that rose in her throat and asked, “Where is she? I must go see her.”

Papa’s jaw tightened. “I won’t have her hurt.”

“I won’t hurt her, Papa, I promise.”

“It’s me, Mama.” Julia bent over her mother’s bed, despairing over the sight of her mother lying there, so pale and wan.

Lady Harleigh grabbed her hand and clasped it tight with more strength than Julia would have thought possible. “Is it true?” she asked in a laboured whisper. “Have you been seeing Lord Melton’s brother?”

“Yes, Mama, I have, but …” At first the words she was about to say stuck in her throat, but she knew she had to say them. “Mr Carstairs and I are only friends. Don’t worry, I still plan to marry Lord Melton.”

The next morning, crumpled pieces of notepaper covered Julia’s writing desk, some of them tear-stained, all the result of her painful attempts to write a farewell note to Robert. She had not yet finished when her grandmother came hobbling in on her cane. Granny seated herself on a chair beside the desk, her lined old face frowning with concern. “You look terrible, missy.”

Julia gulped and replied, “I feel terrible.”

“Have you heard the doctor says your mother is better this morning?”

“I know. I’m very glad.”

Granny peered at her carefully. “You don’t look glad.”

“That’s because …” Before she could prevent it, a tear slid down her cheek. “Oh, Granny, I’m so glad Mama’s better, but …” She choked. Another tear followed the first.

Granny offered her lace-edged handkerchief. “I see the problem. You’ve lost Robert, whom you love, and you’re going to marry Lord Melton whom you don’t love.”

Julia took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “You know everything, don’t you?”

“Just about.”

“Then you know my heart is broken and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Bitterness tinged her voice as she continued, “I shall be Countess Melton — oh what a thrill! I shall be one of the exalted leaders of the ton, everyone bowing and scraping. I shall flit from one country estate to another and … Oh, Granny, I’m so miserable I don’t know what to do!”

Granny frowned. “Why on earth did you tell your mother you would marry Lord Melton?”

“Because she would have died if I hadn’t.”

“That’s rubbish!”

Caught off guard by her grandmother’s vehement reply, Julia sat stunned for a moment. “How can you say such a thing when Mama was at death’s door, and all because of me?”

“Maybe she was and maybe she wasn’t. Either way, she and your father have no right to force you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

Julia slowly shook her head from side to side. “I don’t care what you say. What’s done is done. I gave my word I would marry Lord Melton and so I shall.”

Granny peered at her with her shrewd old eyes. “I cannot see you married to that foppish dolt.”

“Well, you had best get used to the idea.”

“I won’t. And furthermore …” A strange expression crossed Granny’s face, almost as if she’d had some sort of revelation. “I predict you are not going to marry him. Something’s going to happen that will make you change your mind.”

“Would you mind telling me what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Julia laughed wryly. “This time you’re wrong, Granny. I have lost Robert for ever and must make the best of it. Nothing on this earth could make me change my mind.”

Notified of Lady Harleigh’s illness, Lord Melton sent his best wishes for a fast recovery, adding he would await “that fervently anticipated moment when she would be well enough to receive guests again”. He didn’t have long to wait. After making a remarkably swift recovery, Julia’s mother not only abandoned her bed, she began planning a dinner party for some of her finest, most prestigious friends, including, of course, Lord Melton. She even invited the Prince Regent himself. Though Prinny refused, citing an important engagement elsewhere, her elation knew no bounds when the Duke and Duchess of Sherford accepted. “A Knight of the Garter will be at our table!” she elatedly declared.

An invitation was sent to Lord Melton “and guest”, as was the proper etiquette. Naturally Mama expected him to come alone, but when Melton returned his RSVP stating he planned to bring a guest, she grew alarmed. “Is it a woman? Do you suppose he has found someone else?”

“Nonsense, my dear,” her husband reassured her, “no one could replace our daughter. The dinner party will give Julia the perfect opportunity to give Lord Melton her answer. You have nothing to fear.”

Over the next few days, Julia wondered who Melton’s guest could be. In her heart she fervently hoped he had indeed found someone else and had lost all interest in her. Or … could he possibly be bringing his brother? She had not heard from Robert since she sent him her farewell note. Not that she expected a reply — or deserved a reply. But despite her decision to marry Charles, thoughts of Robert filled her mind nearly every waking moment. How could she live without him? How could she ever be happy again? She wondered, too, how Robert felt. Had she broken his heart? Was he as devastated as she? Why hadn’t she heard from him?

On the night of the dinner party, Julia, dressed in a daringly low-cut gown of white bombazine, performed her hostess duties as if by rote. Standing in the entry hall beside her parents, she was greeting guests when she saw Lord Melton pull up the drive to the front portico in his curricle. Robert Carstairs sat by his side.

Her pulse pounding, she watched Robert alight with infinite grace from the curricle. Never had she seen him so splendidly attired, looking every bit as dashing as his brother in a double-breasted wool frock coat with claw-hammer tails, long trousers, waistcoat, Hessian boots with a tassel, kid gloves and scrupulously tied cravat.

As the two approached, Lady Harleigh hissed behind her fan, “It’s that ruffian of a brother! What shall we do?”

Her husband whispered back quickly, “We shall receive him graciously, my dear. We have no other choice.”

Lord Melton approached and bent low over Julia’s hand. “I am delighted to see you again, Miss Winslow. I trust you will save some private time for me later on this evening?”

“Indeed I shall, Lord Melton.” Her spirits sank to a depth even lower than they already were. How could they not be low when she was only hours away from making a commitment that would last a lifetime, seal her wretched fate for ever?

Melton moved on as Robert approached and bowed. “Miss Winslow,” he murmured. If he was heartbroken and devastated, it certainly didn’t show. In fact, a faint light twinkled in the depths of his brown eyes, almost as if he knew something of interest she didn’t yet know.

“Mister Carstairs,” she murmured back. She wanted to say more, but other guests arrived and Robert moved on. She didn’t get a chance to see him again until they sat down to dinner and she found both brothers seated across from her. Although she tried to avoid it, Robert occasionally caught her gaze. What was that faint light still gleaming in his eyes? Again, she had the feeling he possessed knowledge of something she as yet didn’t know. But what? she asked herself miserably. Their affair was over. Done. She would never make love with Robert Carstairs again.

During the soup course, Lord Melton began expounding on the subject of Hatfield Manor, his newly purchased estate. As the whole table listened, one of the guests remarked, “I understand your estate includes the ruins of an old monastery.”

Melton smiled, eager to answer. “Indeed, you are referring to Swindon Abbey.”

“I hear it’s one of the most beautiful of all the monastic ruins. Do you plan to restore it?”

Melton’s laugh boomed around the table. “Actually I have just completed my plans. As you know, a good abbey ruin is a fine feature for a gentleman’s park. In a manner of speaking I shall restore it, although—” he stole a quick glance at his brother “—not as some would like.”

“What do you plan?”