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“Miss Dashwood, I realise I have a lot of explaining to do,” he began from his seat on the opposite side, “Would you mind if I change our plans very slightly? I have so much to talk to you about and I do not think I can relate it all to you in so public a place as Gunter's. I have my father's permission to take his coach for the afternoon, and I wondered if I might take you first for a drive through Hyde Park as I promised all that time ago.”

There was something so gentlemanly about his request and he put her so at ease by the kindly way he addressed her that she raised no objection. Henry gave the command and they set off, soon finding their way down Oxford Street in the direction of the park.

Neither of them spoke for a moment or two. Margaret looked out at the melting snow turning to slush along the highway, dripping iced water from tree branches of black lace silhouetted against a sky of storm clouds.

“I saw you with Charles Carey and his sister yesterday,” said Henry.

“They have been very good to me whilst I have been in London,” Margaret answered. “James Mortimer and his sister have been very kind also.”

“Mr Carey admires you very much, I know,” Henry ventured, watching Margaret's countenance closely.

“Mr Carey is a friend of long standing. Whether he admires me or not is another matter.” Margaret felt her confusion in a warm glow spreading upwards from her neckline.

“But Anne Steele told me he wishes to marry you and that everything is set for an engagement between you.”

“Mr Carey has no such expectations. I have no desire to marry him. He is like a brother to me and as such could never be anything else.”

Margaret turned her gaze to look at Henry. “Appearances are not always as they seem, I do not think.”

“No, indeed,” said Henry with a smile. “One should never rely on outward show alone or the confidence of others. Miss Steele and her sister Mrs Ferrars were very convincing. I was assured that you were to be married before Easter.”

“I would like to be able to pardon them, to say that they mean well, but unfortunately I cannot in truth come to their aid. Those sisters have always enjoyed a gossip and if there is none to be had, they simply make it up,” Margaret declared with a shrug of her shoulders. “Getting wed is all they talk about. Perhaps that is their ambition, but I have never had any intention to get married to anyone.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Henry replied. Margaret noted that Henry had such an expression of sadness on his face that instead of feeling any animosity toward him, she felt rather sorry as she remembered that his heart must be broken and his pride more than a little bruised. It was impossible to feel anything but compassion for him.

“Henry, I am so sorry about Mademoiselle Antoinette,” she said. “I know you were engaged. It must have been a huge shock.”

Henry raised his eyes to hers, shaking his head before bursting out with laughter. “Margaret, forgive me, but as you said yourself, outward show is not always as it seems.”

Margaret felt quite cross again. He was laughing at her, she was sure. She stared at him incredulously, deciding she should ask him to take her home instantly.

“Listen, Margaret. My engagement with Antoinette was all pretence and façade, you know. There has never been anything other than a deep friendship between us; we have known each other since we were small children. I do love her but as one loves a sibling, the sister I never had. Our mothers are great friends and they always cherished a hope that we might marry some day. Antoinette met her Count several months ago in the Assembly Rooms at Bath and fell in love whilst dancing.”

Margaret was stunned into silence. She was remembering the young man she had seen at Lady Denham's ball. “I do not understand,” she said at last. “Surely there could be no objection to her marrying a French Count.”

Henry sighed. “I feel very sorry for the fellow. He has unfortunately lost all his money so it was considered a most imprudent match. He has always nurtured hopes that his house and land might be returned to him