‘He seems a very sensible man,’ she said.

‘Ah. You admire good sense, of course.’

‘I admire it more than I like recklessness, certainly. A sensible man is not so unreliable as an adventurer!’

She heard Cory draw a sharp breath. There was an undertone of anger in his voice now. ‘You are quick to provoke me tonight, Rachel. I cannot but wonder why.’

Rachel glared at him. ‘You are quick to criticise Mr Kestrel, if it comes to that, Cory! I also wonder why.’

Cory’s mouth set in a hard line. ‘Very well. It’s true that I don’t like James Kestrel. He is a worthless man. He cares for nothing but his place in society and the starch in his shirts.’

Rachel frowned. ‘I had heard him described as a worthy man, not a worthless one. I think that he seems very sound.’

‘You are mistaken.’

Their conversation had of necessity been conducted in low tones because the dance kept them in such close proximity to the other couples. Now, however, Rachel found her voice rising to match the frustrated fury inside her.

‘You cannot forbear to meddle, can you, Cory? You always know best! This is the third time that you have warned me away from a gentleman who admires me. Well, you are not my brother and if I choose to recognise sober virtues where you do not, and value them above your own more dubious qualities, then that is my affair!’

With a shock, she realised that the music had stopped and the other dancers were regarding them with some curiosity. With a tight smile, Cory tucked her hand through his arm and steered her to the edge of the dance floor. Rachel could feel the tense anger that vibrated throughout his entire body. She was almost certain that he was about to drag her into a private room and continue the argument there. It would have been in character; on the rare occasions that they had quarrelled in their youth they had argued the matter out until it was finally settled. This felt different, however. Rachel did not know why, but this dispute felt sharp and painful and damaging. She knew that she had to act quickly in order to prevent any further hurt being done.

Unfortunately, she did not get the chance.

The dance had ended now and James Kestrel himself was approaching them with Lily Benedict on his arm.

Lady Benedict’s eyes lit up when she saw the two of them.

‘Miss Odell! What good fortune. Perhaps we might exchange partners?’ She shot Cory a flirtatious look. ‘I know that you will not mind if I importune Lord Newlyn to partner me in the quadrille, for as the two of you are such good friends I do not scruple to split you up!’

Rachel struggled to quell her fizzing temper. She wanted to have put things right with Cory and she also felt a strong aversion to surrendering him to Lily Benedict. Then, as she hesitated, Cory smiled at Lily and said unforgivably,

‘Of course you may importune me with my very good will, Lady Benedict! Miss Odell and I are such old friends that we are quite run out of new things to say to each other. I shall hand her over to Mr Kestrel with pleasure. Perhaps he may entertain her more than I do.’

And, with a mocking bow to Rachel, he turned to Lily and drew her away.

Through a mist of outraged fury, Rachel watched them retreat. She and Cory might be very old friends, but he had never been anything but polite to her in public before. She stood frozen to the spot, trying to collect her thoughts whilst Cory walked away without a backward glance.

She thought that James Kestrel was also watching Cory and Lady Benedict as they took their places for the quadrille, but when she looked at him he was rearranging his cuffs and checking his neckcloth.

‘I am surprised that you wish to claim acquaintance with Newlyn, Miss Odell,’ he said censoriously. ‘He can be a ramshackle fellow. Does as he pleases and has no manners at all.’

A hot denial sprang to Rachel’s lips, but she beat it down. Her thoughts were in a turmoil. She had no notion why she would wish to defend Cory against criticism when she was so angry with him herself, but to hear James Kestrel condemn him just seemed to make her feel even more wretched.

‘Lord Newlyn and I have known each other for years,’ she said sharply. ‘He is like a brother to me, and, as you saw, shows a brotherly lack of respect on occasion. I do not regard it.’

She knew that she lied. Cory’s words had hurt her deeply and a flame of anger was still burning hotly inside her as she watched him give Lily Benedict his undivided attention. She allowed James to take her arm and lead her over to one of the open windows, where the breeze did a little alleviate her heated feelings. Olivia Marney was sitting alone in the next alcove, drooping a little as she thought herself unobserved. Ross Marney was dancing with Lady Sally and Mr Daubenay, the artist, was standing a short distance away, sketching Lady Odell. A small, admiring group had gathered around them as Lady Sally’s guests watched the portrait grow.

James Kestrel flicked a minute speck of dust from his sleeve.

‘Would you care to meet tomorrow afternoon, Miss Odell?’ he asked, sounding a little bored. ‘If it is a pleasant day we could drive along the river.’

Rachel hesitated. She was disinclined to spend much time with James Kestrel, for she had quickly divined that his favourite subject was himself and nothing else could raise any enthusiasm in him. On the other hand she could not bear for Cory to think that she had turned Mr Kestrel away because of anything that he had said. It was a foolish and contrary reason to accept, and Rachel knew it. Nevertheless she nodded and forced a smile.

‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘That would be delightful.’

‘It may rain, of course,’ James Kestrel continued. ‘If it rains, I think we should postpone our plans. It would never do to undertake anything so foolhardy as to go out in the rain.’

‘No, indeed,’ Rachel agreed, visions of weatherswept excavations in the Shetland Islands before her eyes. ‘One could get most horribly wet.’

‘One of my best jackets was once damaged by rain,’ James said. ‘One of Weston’s finest creations. It never recovered from the experience.’

‘It sounds as though you did not recover either, sir,’ Rachel observed sweetly.

James’s pale eyes gleamed. ‘I did not, Miss Odell. Not only was the jacket ruined, but I took a shocking chill as well. I swear it took me a week to recover my spirits.’

Rachel found herself wishing that the chill had carried him off. She excused herself politely and made her way over to the group that encircled Lady Odell. Mr Daubenay was just finishing the drawing, with a flourish of his pencil and a triumphant exclamation. Rachel craned her neck to see. Daubenay really was very good indeed. He had made no concessions to the toll that time and weather had taken on Lady Odell’s face, but the finished effort captured all her character and spirit. Rachel was impressed. She had never been a portraitist herself, but she had once sketched her parents’ entire collection of Egyptian antiquities before they had lent them to display at the Egyptology exhibition at the British Museum.

‘Devil take it, man,’ Lady Odell exclaimed with great good humour, ‘do I really possess four chins? How damnably unflattering!’

‘I think that Mr Daubenay has captured you perfectly, Mama,’ Rachel said tactfully. ‘He sees through the outside and draws the soul.’

The artist beamed, clearly delighted. ‘You flatter me, Miss Odell.’

‘Not at all,’ Cory Newlyn’s voice said. Rachel jumped to see him looking over her shoulder. ‘Miss Odell is in the right of it, Daubenay. Perhaps you could sketch her next. What would you see, I wonder? Youth, beauty and a sweet disposition?’

His tone was equable, but there was mockery in his eyes. Rachel felt herself flush with annoyance. Much more of Cory’s provocation tonight and she would be demonstrating her sweet disposition by slapping his face. She drew a little bit away from the group and threw Cory a challenging look.

‘Take my advice, sir, and do not attempt a sketch of Lord Newlyn,’ she said to the artist. ‘There are qualities there that are better left unseen.’

‘One up to Miss Odell,’ Sir John Norton murmured. His blue eyes were snapping with laughter. ‘Come and dance with me, Miss Odell. I feel brave enough to take you on!’

Rachel allowed him to take her arm and lead her into the set. Sir John’s admiration was balm after her quarrel with Cory. Something had to be done to cut him down to size, she decided. He was too arrogant, too sure of himself and too overbearing. She paused. If she was so good at drawing and Cory was so reticent at posing for Lady Sally’s watercolour booklet, why could she not show him up neatly by sketching him without his knowledge? She could do a rough sketch for Mr Daubenay to work from.

The thought gripped her with sudden excitement. That would put Cory finely in his place and it would go a little way to paying him back for his unchivalrous conduct. She liked that idea. She watched Cory guide Lily Benedict towards the refreshment room, one hand in the small of her back. They were talking, Lady Benedict’s dark curls brushing Cory’s shoulder as she looked up at him confidingly. Rachel saw Lily give Cory a vivid smile and she felt quite out of proportion feverish with anger. It was not that she wanted Cory for herself. That was a ridiculous idea. It was simply that she was angry with him. Oh, yes, she would like to get even with Cory…

She became aware that Sir John was addressing her, inviting her to go driving with him the following afternoon. He was a decidedly more attractive prospect than James Kestrel, but she smiled sweetly and declined. ‘I am sorry, sir, but I am already engaged. Some other time, perhaps?’

She saw the leap of interest in Sir John’s eyes and reflected that men were strange creatures to be encouraged by a lady’s lack of availability. Sir John was now looking positively determined.