.

winked at her. ‘My aunt warned that you will likely kick over the traces. I shall enjoy watching you.’

      Temper smiled wryly. ‘I hope it may prove entertaining. However, you may well have your judgement and your competence questioned, or find yourself pitied, when I prove to be...less than conformable.’

      Mrs Moorsby shrugged. ‘What do I care for the opinions of people I shall never see again, once the Season is over? As long as you enjoy shopping, theatre, concerts and—’ she winked at Giff ‘—the company of handsome gentlemen, I’m sure we shall get on splendidly.’

      Harris returned then, intoning, ‘Lady Spencer-Woods, Mrs Dalworthy, Lady Wentwith and Mrs Dobbs-Henry.’

      ‘You know what you are to do?’ Lady Sayleford murmured as they all rose to greet the newcomers.

      ‘Perfectly,’ Mrs Moorsby said with a conspiratorial smile.

      ‘Welcome, ladies,’ the Countess said after the exchange of bows and curtsies. ‘I wanted you to be the first to meet my protégée, Miss Temperance Lattimar, who makes her debut this Season. Her chaperon, Mrs Moorsby, and my godson, Mr Newell.’

      The pleasant smiles of greeting on the faces of the newcomers froze as Lady Sayleford spoke. Four heads turned as one to fix surprised, then horrified, then offended gazes on Temperance.

      Taking a deep breath, she straightened and gazed straight back, a smile fixed to her lips. Is this how you do it, Mama?

      ‘Ah, here is Harris with our tea. Won’t you be seated?’

      Under the Countess’s direction, Temper found herself on the sofa next to Lady Sayleford, Lady Spencer-Woods in a chair adjacent to them, while Giff and Mrs Moorsby sat with the other ladies in a grouping of chairs closer to the hearth.

      After the initial shocked silence, with a murmur of voices and clink of cups emanating from the group near the fireplace, Lady Sayleford said, ‘So, Elizabeth, I expect you will give your usual ball, now that Parliament is in session.’ She turned to Temper. ‘Lady Spencer-Woods’s Opening Ball is the premier entertainment of the Early Season, attended by everyone of importance in society.’ Looking back at her guest, she continued, ‘You will certainly send Miss Lattimar and Mrs Moorsby a card.’

      The guest shifted uncomfortably, shooting Temper a pained, faintly contemptuous glance, ‘Really, Emily,’ she said in a low voice, leaning forward as if speaking with the Countess alone, ‘I know you are somehow...connected to her family, but this is outside of enough! You may amuse yourself, inviting the Vraux woman to your entertainments, but you cannot expect me to recognise a daughter of that...creature!’

      Temper didn’t need the Countess’s subtle warning glance to know she must remain silent. As if I weren’t right here, listening to every word, Temper thought, outrage filling her and the tea turning bitter on her tongue. You must accustom yourself to hearing this and worse. Was that what Lady Sayleford meant to teach her, by compelling her to witness this exchange?

      ‘Leaving aside any commentary on Lady Vraux’s character, the child is not her mother.’

      Lady Spencer-Woods gave a thin smile. ‘She might be worse.’

      ‘I’ll let that indictment of my judgement pass,’ the Countess said mildly, but with a frigid look that saw her visitor’s defiance collapse. ‘It would please me mightily to have you send Miss Lattimar and her chaperon a card. And see that all your friends do, as well. However, if you wish to be...disobliging, I might suddenly recall a certain incident with a dancing master that happened in our debut Season.’

      The matron paled. ‘I hardly think society would be interested in...in a silly contretemps from so many years ago.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know. When a lady is one of the premier arbiters of society, whose judgements about the character of young ladies have made or destroyed reputations and Seasons, I expect there might be exceptional interest in the story of a—’

      ‘Never mind,’ Lady Spencer-Woods interrupted, bright spots of colour blooming in her cheeks. ‘I don’t think any further details are necessary.’

      Not with a highly interested witness sitting in, Temper thought. Lady Sayleford, how clever you are indeed.

      ‘For a woman, “incidents” are never truly past and forgotten, are they? Even when one has lived blamelessly for thirty years.’

      ‘Felicia Lattimar has hardly lived “blamelessly” for thirty years!’

      ‘She might have, had her idiot of a husband paid her any attention. And might have still, had that cad Hightower not spread his malicious stories all over town. In any event, you will invite Miss Lattimar to your ball—won’t you? Ladies of power and influence should present a united front.’

      Lady Spencer-Woods held her hostess’s unflinching stare for a moment, before dropping her gaze. ‘I suppose so.’

      ‘Then we understand each other. Excellent.’

      Lady Sayleford smiled serenely, as if she hadn’t just manoeuvred her outraged guest into checkmate. ‘You need do nothing more than receive Miss Lattimar. I shall not hold you responsible for her ultimate success, or lack of it. Unless, of course, I learn you’ve said or done something disparaging to compromise it.’

      ‘I shall not forget this, Emily,’ Lady Spencer-Woods said, looking back up at the Countess, her expression a mixture of resentment and reluctant admiration.

      ‘I don’t expect you will. Now, I know you’d like to become better acquainted with Mrs Moorsby, who will be accompanying Miss Lattimar to all her entertainments.’ She gestured towards the other group, a clear sign of dismissal. ‘I shall look forward to seeing you at your ball.’

      ‘I shall be delighted to welcome you. And your lovely protégée,’ she added with a resigned glance at Temper. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed. ‘Emily, what a trickster you are! One never knows what outrageous thing you will do. Have no fear, I shall play my part.’

      ‘I never doubted it. I know just how...ingenious you can be, Elizabeth,’ the Countess replied, amusement in her eyes as her guest’s cheeks once again went rosy.

      * * *

      And so it went with each matron in turn. Lady Sayleford immediately demanded support for Temper, countered any objections about her and her mother, then moved in for the kill with a hint about some questionable event in the lady’s past the Countess might just happen to recall, should her guest not prove accommodating.

      After the guests took their leave, Temper turned to gaze in awe at her sponsor. ‘You really do know everything about everyone!’

      Lady Sayleford chuckled. ‘The benefit of a long life spent building such a reputation for discretion, every bit of scandal finds its way to my ear.’

      ‘Still, I regret that you had to play so many of the trumps you’ve kept close in hand. I hope giving them up—and the animosity you may have incurred for playing them now—won’t come back to harm you.’

      ‘You needn’t worry, my dear. I have enough other trumps tucked away to be in no danger of losing whatever game I choose. Now you are privy to some of that knowledge, too.’

      ‘And you made sure all those ladies knew it!’

      ‘I don’t intend to go everywhere with you. But they all know their secrets will. Shall we join the others?’

      ‘How well you work your magic!’ Mrs Moorsby said to the Countess as she made room for Temperance on the sofa beside her. ‘After chatting with you, each lady came back to express her delight in making my acquaintance and her hope that my charge and I would be able to attend the entertainment she intended to give later in the Season. Bravo, Aunt Lilly!’

      ‘One does one’s possible,’ Lady Sayleford said, a satisfied smile on her lips. ‘The two of you did well, too, keeping your group from listening in—though,