seemed an easy sort of man, so different to Richard and yet so much a part of his world. He would be indifferent to the sort of gossip that had crippled me for so many years and while I despised myself for my social cowardice, I still felt that tension every time I entered a room containing strangers. I would have to work hard to overcome that particular aspect. It would look like a lack of breeding to the ton.

Richard sauntered back across the floor towards us, and saw my amused expression.

“Blackening my reputation, Freddy?” He shot his lordship a look of diverted malice.

“Who, me?” his lordship said, the picture of hurt innocence. “Enhancing it, more like. Remember St. James’ Square?”

Richard groaned and put his hand to his eyes. “I was drunk.”

“I know,” came the reply. “I was there.”

I turned to Richard, struck by a sudden realisation. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

“You might well have done, ma’am, without actually knowing it,” Lord Thwaite told me. “You can’t tell from his manner, except perhaps a look about the eye. More his behaviour. His recklessness is a joy to behold.”

“Were you drunk when you asked me to marry you?” I demanded of him, smiling.

“Never more sober.” He took my hand and placed it on his arm. “I’m sorry but I’m afraid I must take you away. There are some people you should meet.”

We bowed to Lord Thwaite and the Flemings, and he bore me away to some more sedate strangers, more of his circle, and I was duly introduced. These people were older, and Richard watched me curtsey and saw them smile in welcome. We talked about the wedding, the weather and the beauties of Exeter, then the orchestra struck up, and he led me on to the floor for the first minuet, the formal opening to the proceedings. The first dance was always the minuet, and classed as such, while the ones that followed, the lesser minuets, were not as formal. I had never taken the floor for that first dance before and I quelled my trembling muscles in an effort to do this properly.

He danced beautifully, gracefully, but I was forced to concentrate. His attempts at conversation met with monosyllabic responses while I focused on my steps and my bearing for this supremely elegant dance of courtship. I met his gaze and he smiled reassuringly when he recognised my plight, but after that he helped me all he could, and didn’t talk too much. I needed all my concentration to get me through it.

“I thought you would be a natural dancer,” he commented, when the dance mercifully finished. “I shall make you practise.”

“I spent too long holding up the wall.” I flicked my fan open and used it to cover my blushes at having to confess this to him.

“You need not fear that any longer.” He led me off the floor, found us some wine and we crossed the room to the group of girls who stood by the fire.

“I promised to introduce these charming ladies to Lord Thwaite. He has asked if he might meet them.” He lifted a questioning brow to where Mr. and Mrs. Terry sat within earshot.

Mrs. Terry nodded graciously. “Take care of her.”

“Ladies?” Richard bowed.

Eustacia’s attention was on my neck, not my face, and her eyes widened. “What a beautiful necklace.”

“One of the family treasures,” Richard replied lightly. “My mother had them reset when she was Lady Strang, but the larger diamonds were always supposed to have been presented to an ancestor by Queen Elizabeth. He must have performed some signal service for her, but we’ve never been sure what it was.”

“Can’t you guess?” I asked.

He gave me a mock frown. “You shouldn’t impugn the reputation of the Virgin Queen, madam.” Miss Terry looked suitably disapproving.

“Not all virgins are virgins,” I reminded him cruelly and was rewarded by a crack of laughter.

“True enough.”

Miss Terry exchanged a speaking glance with her friends and then turned back to Richard, spread her fan, looked at him over its rim, and then lowered it again. He watched her appreciatively. “Your skills are developing well, ma’am.”

“Thank you, sir. Won’t you introduce us to your friends?”

“Yes, of course,” he replied.

He crossed the room, bearing a lady on each arm, Miss Terry and her friend Miss Sturman. Behind his back, Miss Terry stared over her shoulder at me with a triumphant expression, as though she had won him, could always win anyone she wanted from me. But she had lost the power to hurt me, and I followed them with a serene expression and a black thought.

Introductions were made, and Richard stood back with me, taking no part in the ensuing conversation. Miss Terry said, “La, my lord,” once, and I watched Lord Thwaite’s quick expression of blank astonishment. He glanced over the lady’s head at Richard, his eyes full of delighted amusement.

Then Miss Terry dared to try out her new techniques with the fan that Richard had taught her. At her first pass Lord Thwaite’s eyes widened. Mistaking it for admiration, she tried another.

Lord Thwaite managed a quavering, “Goodness!” before he regained his composure and bowed low. I thought I saw his shoulders shake, but I couldn’t be sure. “Well after that, I have to ask you if you could spare me a dance.” Eustacia smiled, lowered her eyes, and said she would be glad to. He led her off, and left the company nonplussed.

Lady Fleming confronted Richard. “Did you teach her that?”

Richard turned his innocent blue gaze to her. “What would that be?”

“You know quite well what.” Lady Fleming smiled. “She’ll