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Darnebrook Abbey.’ A frown. ‘Something about Harriette and another girl.’
    ‘How wonderful. Lord Tiverton’s estates are quite the most elegant in the county. And her summer ball is always a crush.’
    Rowena’s frown deepened. ‘I’m not sure Papa will permit us to accept.’
    ‘Whyever not?’
    ‘Amabelle. He is determined to keep her to her room.’
    ‘But surely he must see how advantageous it would be for her to visit dear Lady Tiverton.’ Thomasina twisted one of her cap’s long lace ties around a finger. ‘After all, Lord Conniston is sure to be invited too. Ampney Park is not far from dear Lady Tiverton. Barely ten miles across the county border.’
    Rowena swallowed.
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Thomasina chirruped. ‘We shall tell your dear Papa that. He is certain to see the advantages and change his mind.’
    ‘Indeed.’ Rowena’s interest in Mrs Kesgrave’s menus withered. She closed book and rose from the table. ‘Excuse me, please, cousin.’
    Head high, she glided towards Phillips still hovering by the door. He pulled it wider to allow her to pass. Deep in thought, Rowena ascended the stairs to her room.
    Sir Richard enjoyed his dinners. When Rowena joined him and Thomasina in the dining room the long mahogany table bore two silver candelabra and a display of dishes holding a chicken and sage pie, a plate of pork with whole apples, a poached salmon in aspic, a dressed breast of mutton left from yesterday but with fresh gravy, a dish of sliced green beans and another of cold boiled potatoes. In the very centre of the table stood a baked custard Mrs Kesgrave had turned out onto a fluted, gilt-edged plate and decorated with slices of candied pears. Beside it a bread and butter pudding had currents scattered over the top. Three small bowls of flummery and a jug of cream completed what Sir Richard considered a light meal.
    Rowena helped herself to a spoon of mutton, a few beans and a sliver of pie. Lady Tiverton’s invitation lay under the napkin on her lap.
    Her father surveyed the spread. He rubbed his hands together. ‘Excellent. Excellent, Thomasina, you order the house wonderfully.’ He reached forward, lifting the carving knife and fork from the platter of pork. Four thick slices transferred to his plate to be topped with three spoonfuls of mutton.
    Thomasina picked at the pasty round the chicken. ‘Have you decided yet about dear Lady Tiverton’s invitation?’
    A forkful of mutton stopped part-way to Sir Richard’s open mouth. ‘Invitation? What invitation?’ He looked from cousin to daughter.
    Rowena had intended to wait for him to consume most of his meal before imparting the news. She produced the invitation. ‘Aunt Tiverton has invited Amabelle and me to her summer ball, Papa. And for a few weeks holiday afterwards.’
    The fork descended with some force. ‘Amabelle is going nowhere until she comes to her senses.’
    ‘Oh dear,’ Thomasina fluttered, clutching her napkin to her chest. ‘But consider, dear Sir Richard, his lordship might be there.’
    Sir Richard frowned. ‘Well of course he’ll be there. It’s his house.’
    ‘I think Cousin Thomasina meant Lord Conniston, Papa, not Uncle Tiverton.’
    ‘In that case Amabelle’s definitely not going. If Conniston hears any more of her nonsense he’ll withdraw his offer.’ He stared at the mutton. It slid off his fork onto the last slice of pork, raising a circle of gravy droplets. His head rose. ‘You’re to go, Rowena. We need his interest keeping up. You can do that. He’s too good a match to lose.’
    Words were somewhat reluctant to escape Rowena’s throat. She swallowed. ‘Yes, Papa,’ she managed at last.
    Sir Richard failed to notice how his elder daughter’s complexion had paled. ‘Good. That’s settled then. You can tell him Amabelle will agree. I’ll have an end to her nonsense once and for all.’ He angled his fork plate-wards. The errant forkful of mutton soon disappeared into his mouth.
    Rowena