Mistress in the Regency Ballroom: The Rake's Unconventional Mistress / Marrying the Mistress. Juliet Landon

Not good friends, Mama, just acquainted. He took me to Mortlake to see his sister, Lady Dorna Elwick, who is a friend of mine. There’s no more to it than that. Garnet has nothing to fear.’

      ‘And what about the theatre? I heard—’

      ‘There were fourteen of us, Mama.’

      ‘Well,’ she said, looking round at the blue, white and gold décor, the walnut table and chairs, the embroidered seat covers and cushions as if they belonged in a dingy street tavern, ‘it’s bad enough for you to be doing this kind of thing, without trying to take your sister’s future husband.’

      ‘Are you not being premature, Mama? You know how Lord Rayne tends to…?’

      ‘Yes, Letitia. I do know. That’s the problem. And you’re not helping matters, are you? And now this shocking scandal, too.’

      ‘Which no one need know of, Mama, unless you tell them.’

      ‘Then you must tell Rayne you no longer need his company,’ she said, rising. ‘That should redirect his interest. Don’t ask him to lunch with you again, either. That young Waverley is more your type. Summon my carriage, if you please. It’s time I was going.’

      ‘But don’t you wish to look round the house, Mama?’

      ‘No time today. I have guests coming this evening.’

      ‘I see. First things first, of course.’

      Not being finely tuned to such nuances, Lady Boyce failed to pick up the cynicism. And had not Rosie Gaddestone entered the hall just as she was about to depart, she would have missed seeing her altogether after an interval of eight months. Her quick peck to each of Gaddy’s cheeks was both hello and goodbye, delivered to Letitia with the same artificiality.

      It was not like Letitia to weep over matters such as this, but the only thing preventing her on this occasion was not fortitude but the gentle clasp of Gaddy’s arms around her shoulders and the scent of lavender in an embrace that lasted as the hall clock ticked and chimed over their heads.

      ‘Has Mrs Quayle told you?’ she whispered into Gaddy’s lace cap.

      ‘Yes, love. We’re not having a good day today, are we?’

      ‘No. Was Lord Rayne at church?’

      ‘Yes. He asked about you. I said you’d been delayed.’

      ‘We could have done with him here just now.’

      ‘A change of heart, Lettie dear? That’s not like you.’

      ‘I’m not much like me at the moment.’ She held her cousin away, her hands buried in the tiers of lace over her arms. ‘Oh, Gaddy, what a business this is. Now we may be sure that Mama will tell anyone who’ll listen what a mess I’m making of it.’And unless Lord Rayne stays well out of the way, she will broadcast Sapphire’s scandal far and wide. That’s for sure