Susannah gasped, her grip on Deborah’s hand growing uncomfortably tight.

‘L…Lensborough? The Marquis of Lensborough?’

For a moment, Deborah thought she saw a flicker of amusement in Captain Fawley’s eyes. Did he know that an invitation to such an event was the one sure way to capture Susannah’s interest? She looked at him keenly. Perhaps it was not only débutantes who cast out lures to catch their prey. He had certainly baited his hook with the one worm that could make Susannah bite. She was almost obsessed with gaining an entrée to the haut ton.

‘The same,’ he said, his fleeting trace of amusement replaced with an air of gravity.

‘Oh, well, that would be wonderful!’ Susannah sighed rapturously. ‘If you can indeed promise me an invitation, you may be sure I shall save at least one dance for you!’

‘That was just what I thought you would say,’ he replied, bowing over the hand she had extended, for the first time to Deborah’s knowledge, willingly.

‘Now I will take my leave,’ he said, nodding curtly to Deborah. ‘I am glad to hear you are recovering from your indisposition. And I hope you will accept the small token of my good wishes in the spirit in which it was given.’

‘Token?’ Deborah felt totally mystified.

‘Oh, Captain Fawley brought you a posy. It is over there.’ Deborah looked where Susannah had pointed, to see the usual mound of floral tributes piled upon the little table by the door. Her heart leaped to think that, at long last, one of them was for her!

‘Miss Hullworthy informed me that you would not be able to accept it from me personally, so I left it with the other tributes to the beauties of Half Moon Street,’ he said drily.

‘Which one is it?’ she asked, her pulse fluttering wildly.

‘The orangey-coloured one,’ he replied vaguely. ‘I know not the names of the flowers. I just thought they were something like the colour of the ribbons you were wearing in your hair last night.’

All the breath left her lungs in a great whoosh. He had brought her a posy. And he had noticed what colour ribbons she had been wearing in her hair! She wanted to rush across the room, gather the flowers to her bosom and breathe in their fragrance. How silly of her. He had not brought it because he harboured any tender feelings for her. It had been expedient to arm himself with it, that was all, and feign concern over her health to gain entry to the home of the woman who really interested him. Rather stiffly, she said, ‘I am sure Susannah would have brought it up to me, had I not got out of bed today.’

‘Yes, of course I would!’

‘Of course you would,’ he agreed wryly. ‘But now there is no need. Miss Gillies is much recovered, and I am sure in a day or so, will be well able to withstand the rigours of the ballroom at Challinor House.’

‘Where is Challinor House?’ Susannah asked, the minute he had left. ‘And what has it to do with an invitation to Lord Lensborough’s engagement? And what is his connection with the family?’

‘Hush, Suzy,’ Deborah murmured. ‘Wait till your callers have gone. Then we may ask my mama.’

* * *

Her mother was very well informed about the noble families of England. It never ceased to amaze her how a woman who had spent the majority of her life in a rural backwater had managed to keep her finger on the pulse of London gossip.

‘Challinor is the family name, dear,’ Mrs Gillies explained, when Susannah eventually got the opportunity to question her about the Marquis of Lensborough. ‘And you say Captain Fawley is to use his influence with the dowager Lady Lensborough to get you an invitation to her son’s ball? Hmm…’ She sank on to her favourite chair, her finger tapping her chin as a frown came to her brow. ‘Of course!’ Her face lit up. ‘Her younger son served in the same regiment as Captain Fawley. Dead now, of course, like so many of them after that dreadful affair of Waterloo…’ She sighed, shaking her head. ‘But I believe shared grief has created something of a bond between your Captain Fawley and the Marquis. I know for a fact that he trained a horse especially to cope with his…umm… disadvantages. He is bound to be on the guest list already….’

‘But I heard that the engagement ball is one of the most exclusive events of the Season so far!’ Susannah protested. ‘Why should they include a penniless nobody like Captain Fawley?’

‘Now, Susannah, my dear, I have told you before about judging a man too hastily. There is nothing wrong with his background. He is half-brother to the Earl of Walton, after all.’

Deborah’s heart sank as Susannah’s eyes lit up. She suddenly felt incredibly weary.

‘If you do not mind,’ she said, ‘I would like to go and lie down again before dinner.’

‘Of course, my dear,’ said her mother. ‘And do not be thinking you will be left alone this evening. If you do not feel up to coming down and keeping company with us, one of us will come and read to you. Won’t we, Susannah?’

To her credit, Susannah betrayed not the slightest sign of petulance, though Deborah knew she had been looking forward to the theatre trip planned for that evening. Instead, she leapt to her feet, saying brightly, ‘Shall I come up with you now? We could have a good gossip while you have a lie down. For you surely don’t need to sleep any more today, do you?’

Deborah mentally braced herself. She knew that the gossip would consist of hearing Susannah dissect every single one of her suitors—their dress, their manners, their connections and fortune—and she was not sure she was sufficiently in control of the frayed edges of her temper to hold it together.

‘Fancy Captain Fawley being the brother of an earl!’ Susannah sighed the moment they had shut the chamber door behind them.

‘Yes, only fancy,’ Deborah muttered glumly, sitting on a low stool to ease off her pumps.

‘Why did you not tell me?’

‘Would you mind helping me with the hooks?’ Deborah prevaricated, turning her back to her friend. While Susannah was thrilled to find one of her suitors so well connected, so far as Deborah was concerned, it only seemed to put him further from her reach than ever.

While Susannah dealt with the fastenings of her dress, she confessed, ‘I had no idea his father was an earl.’

‘Which changes everything, of course. Do you think he is a viscount, as well as being a captain?’

‘Don’t you dare toy with him, Susannah!’ Deborah whirled round, her eyes blazing with fury. ‘He has suffered enough!’

‘I wouldn’t…’ Susannah gasped.

‘You may not mean to hurt him, but I have seen the way his eyes follow you round the dance floor, while you are making up to your latest conquest!’

‘Well, I…’

‘Oh, you do not need to tell me—you cannot bear to look at him!’

‘With that face?’ Susannah shuddered. ‘Can you blame me?’

Deborah struggled to control her temper. ‘I admit he has been knocked about a bit. But only consider how he received his wounds. Fighting for his country. He is worth ten of that fribble Baron Dunning, whom you hang upon because he has a title. He worked his way up through the ranks, earning promotion through merit….’

Drawing herself up to her full height, Susannah said quietly, ‘Your mother has already made me revise my opinion of Baron Dunning. I see what this is, Deborah—you have designs upon Captain Fawley yourself.’

Deborah’s mouth opened, then closed, as she sought to refute Susannah’s argument, but realised she could not in all conscience do so.

‘I do not have designs upon him,’ she eventually managed to say. ‘But that does not mean I am prepared to stand by and watch you break his heart. I think you are a better person than that, Suzy.’

Susannah’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you do not have your sights set on him, and if you are only thinking of what is best for him, then I would have thought you would be glad that I have finally relented towards him. He is intelligent enough to know what my ambitions are. He knows I intend to make a brilliant match. Agreeing to go to one ball as his guest, letting him have one dance with me, is all he aspires to, I assure you. I won’t encourage him to dangle after me.’