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  Miss Taverner tore this civil letter up in a rage. To be obliged to bottle up her wrath at Worth’s daring to refuse all her suitors (none of whom she had the smallest desire to marry) without consulting her wishes, for as much as three days, and very likely more, was so insupportable that she could not face the weekend with any degree of composure.

  However, it was not so very bad. A card-party on Saturday helped to pass the time, and Sunday brought her a new and rather awe-inspiring acquaintance.

  She and Mrs Scattergood attended the Chapel Royal for the morning service. Mrs Scattergood frankly occupied herself with looking about her at the newest fashions, and was not above whispering to her charge when she saw a particularly striking hat, but Miss Taverner, more strictly brought up, tried to keep her mind on what was going forward. This, when all her thoughts were taken up with the impertinence of her guardian having announced that he should not give his consent to her marriage, was not very easy. Her mind wandered during the reading of the first lesson, but was recalled with a jerk.

  ‘And Zacchoeus said: “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor,”’ read the clergyman.

  A voice which came from someone seated quite near to Miss Taverner suddenly interrupted, saying in a loud hurried way: ‘Too much, too much! Don’t mind tithes, but can’t stand that!’

  There were one or two stifled giggles, and many heads were turned. Mrs Scattergood, who had craned her neck to see who it was who had lifted up his voice in such an unseemly fashion, nipped Judith’s arm, and whispered urgently: ‘It’s the Duke of Cambridge. He talks to himself, you know. And I think it is his brother Clarence who is with him, but I cannot quite see. And if it is, my love, I believe it to be a fact that he is parted from Mrs Jordan, and is looking about him for a rich wife! Only fancy if he should think of you!’

  Miss Taverner did not choose to fancy anything so absurd, and quelled her chaperon with a frown.

  Mrs Scattergood was right in her conjecture; it was the Duke of Clarence. He came out of church after the service with Lord and Lady Sefton, a burly, red-faced gentleman with very staring blue eyes and a pear-shaped head. Mrs Scattergood, who had lingered strategically on the pretext of exchanging greetings with an acquaintance, contrived to be in the way. Lady Sefton bowed and smiled, but the Duke, with his rather protuberant eyes fixed on Miss Taverner, very palpably twitched her sleeve.

  The party stopped, Lady Sefton begged leave to present Mrs Scattergood and Miss Taverner, and Judith found herself making her first curtsy to Royalty.

  The Duke, who had the same thick utterance that belonged to all the King’s sons, said in his blunt, disconnected way: ‘What’s that? What’s that? Is it Miss Taverner? Well, this is famous indeed! I have been wishing to meet Miss Taverner these three weeks. How do you do? So you drive a phaeton and pair, as I hear, ma’am? Well, that is the right tack for Worth’s ward!’

  Miss Taverner said simply: ‘Yes, sir, I do drive a phaeton and pair.’

  ‘Ay, ay, they tell me you shake the wind out of all their sails.

  I shall keep a weather eye lifted for you in the Park, ma’am. I am acquainted with Worth, you know: he is a particular friend of my brother York. You need not fear to haul to and take me aboard your phaeton.’ ‘I shall be honoured, sir,’ replied Miss Taverner, wondering at his bluff geniality. She could not imagine why he should want to be taken aboard her phaeton, as he phrased it, but if he did she had not the least objection. He seemed a good-humoured easy-going Prince, not at all awe-inspiring; and (though rather elderly and stout) quite likeable in his odd way.

  The Duke of Cambridge, who, unlike his brother, was extremely tall, with a fair handsome countenance, came towards the group at this moment, and the Duke of Clarence said with his boisterous laugh: ‘Ah, you see, I am overhauled; I must be off. Did you ever know such a fellow as my brother, to be talking out loud in church? But he don’t mean it, you know; you must not be shocked, my lady. I shall look for you in the Park, Miss Taverner; don’t forget I shall be looking out for you!’

  Judith curtsied and moved away with Mrs Scattergood, and beyond describing her encounter with a good deal of humour to Peregrine that evening, thought no more about it. But sure enough the Royal Tar did look out for her. She did not visit Hyde Park the next day, but on Tuesday she was there with her groom beside her, and had not gone very far when she saw the Duke waving to her from the promenade. He was walking with another gentleman, but when Miss Taverner drew up in obedience to his signal, he left his companion abruptly and came to the phaeton, and wanted to know whether she would take him up.

  ‘I shall be honoured, sir,’ she said formally, and signed to the groom to get down.

  The Duke climbed up beside her, saying: ‘Oh, that’s nonsense – never stand on ceremony. Look, there goes my cousin Gloucester. I daresay he envies me perched up here beside you. What do you say?’

  Miss Taverner laughed. ‘Nothing, sir, how can I? If I agree, I must be odiously conceited, which I hope I am not; and if I demur you will think me to be asking for reassurance.’

  He seemed to be much struck by the frankness of this reply, laughed very heartily, and declared they should get along famously together.

  He was not at all difficult to talk to, and they had not driven more than half-way round the Park before Miss Taverner discovered him to have been a firm friend of Admiral Nelson. She was in a glow at once; he was very ready to talk to her of the admiral, and in this way they drove twice round the Park, extremely well pleased with each other. When Miss Taverner set him down, he parted from her with a vigorous handshake and a promise that he should bring to in Brook Street at no very distant date.

  Seven

  THE TAVERNERS WERE BOTH AT VAUXHALL THAT EVENING with a party, to partake of ham-shavings and burnt wine in a box, and after to see Mr Blackmore performing feats on a slack-rope, followed by the usual display of fireworks. It was not until the small hours that they were set down at their own door again, and they were both extremely sleepy, Peregrine rather more so than his sister, since he had drunk, in addition to burnt wine, any quantity of rack-punch. He went straight off to bed, yawning prodigiously, but Miss Taverner was not too tired to look over a little pile of notes awaiting her on the marble-top table in the hall. They had most of them the appearance of invitations, and since she had not been in town long enough to think invitations dull, she gathered them all up to take with her to her bedchamber.

  While her maid was brushing her hair she ran through them. Midway through the pile she came upon Mr Blackader’s fist, and at once pushed the rest aside and broke the seal. It was a brief note informing her that the Earl of Worth would call at Brook Street the following morning.

  Miss Taverner, who considered that the commonest civility should have prompted his lordship to inquire when it would suit her to receive him, immediately made a plan to spend the whole morning at the Botanic Gardens in Hans Town.

  This plan was ruthlessly carried out, in spite of the protests of Mrs Scattergood, who had no extraordinary interest in gardens. A message for Lord Worth was left with the butler, intimating that Miss Taverner was sorry that she had not received his obliging note earlier, since she was engaged elsewhere that morning.

  The message was never delivered. Miss Taverner returned from the Botanic Gardens to find that the Earl had not called at all, but had sent round a footman with a note instead.

  Miss Taverner, thinking indignantly of a whole morning wasted amongst plants, broke the seal and spread open the letter. It was the ubiquitous Mr Blackader again, regretting that his lordship was unfortunately prevented from fulfilling his promise, but trusted to be able to visit Miss Taverner within the course of the next few days.

  Miss Taverner tore the letter into shreds, and swept upstairs in a mood of considerable exasperation.

  She dined at home with only Mrs Scattergood for company, but in the expectation of receiving her cousin later in the evening. He had promised to bring her a volume from his libr