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Miss Steele put out her arm to arrest Margaret's progress across the room. “Was not Charles Carey a particular friend of yours at one time, Miss Dashwood? Mrs Jennings said he only went to sea so he could forget you. He reminds me very much of the doctor who came to court, but he was so much teased about me, it quite put him out of countenance. I’ve always liked a uniform and the Navy men look so dapper, very clean cut. He’d make a lovely beau. Perhaps you’ll regret giving him a wide berth when you see him again now. If he should ask about me, you will tell him I am your oldest unmarried friend, now won’t you? Oh no, that does not sound quite right—I only meant that we have been acquainted for such a long time, not that I am aged in any way. He does keep looking over here but I think he must be afraid to start up a conversation. I did try to engage him in some talk earlier. Would you say he is shy?”

Margaret excused herself again and made her way over to Charles, who was standing with his friend. Thoughts of Henry and his present conduct were gone for the moment, as Mr Carey stepped up to introduce his friend and take her hand.

“Miss Dashwood, it has been too long,” he smiled with a short bow. “May I present my friend, Mr James Mortimer.”

Margaret thought how dashing Charles looked, his black hair still as wavy and his dark eyes twinkling with merriment in a tanned skin, weathered by the elements and exposure to the sun in foreign climes, no doubt. His profession certainly seemed to be suiting him. James was of a similar age and appeared to be just as cordial. He had an open face, with light brown hair and eyes to match the October sky outside.

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” Margaret began, holding out her hand before turning to address Charles. “It is lovely to see you again, Mr Carey. What are you doing in London?”

“I am staying with James's family in Wimpole Street and making the most of peaceful times, though how long it will remain so is anyone's guess. We are enjoying seeing the sights of London, but I will be going back to Devonshire for a while, to see them all at home.”

“If I know Charles Carey, he won’t be content to sit about in the Devonshire countryside for long,” interrupted James. “He’ll be moping about until he gets back on board ship, won’t you, my friend. Miss Dashwood, he may talk of enjoying peace, but between you and me, he is as anxious as I am to be back in the thick of it.”

“I like to be occupied, that's all, can’t bear to be idle,” interrupted Charles. “Give me a ship and men to command, that's all I ask. What can a naval man do at home but think of the day when he can be afloat again, sailing the rolling waves? I was born to be a sailor, that is all there is to say.”

Margaret could only admire this fine speech. As she listened to their exploits in the war, she was struck by the fact that these brave men had only been too willing, not only to fight for their country but also prepared to die in battle. They were eager to be of service again and she felt quite humbled in their presence. How wonderful it would have been to join them and see the world.

“I have to admit there are times I wish I had been born a boy. To be a sailor, a Captain in the Navy, is the most noble of professions. I envy your lot.”

Mrs Jennings appeared at that moment to whisk James away in order to encourage him to make up a table at whist. Charles and Margaret were left alone.

“I, for one, am most grateful that you were not born to be a man, Miss Dashwood,” Charles spoke softly. “It is so good to see you again. You look very well.”

“I am very well, thank you.” Margaret did not know what else to say. Charles was looking at her with the same intensity he had always shown, an expression of adoration that was so difficult to bear. Charles Carey had always been a good friend and she loved him like a brother, but that was all. All the old feelings came flooding back, she felt as trapped as if she were a small caged animal. It was time to join one of the other parties that were forming, she