Chapter One

London, June 1810

It had been the most wonderful June day. Sabrina had visited the tea gardens with her friends, admiring the beautiful flowers and being admired in return by numerous gentlemen. And now she was going to Almack’s! This was not her first visit, but tonight the little fizz of excitement was stronger than ever. In the family house on Russell Square she sat down at her dressing table, but it was very difficult to keep still while Jane put the final touches to her hair. She was fixing rosebuds amongst the curls, their orange blush perfectly matching her new muslin gown.

‘Sabrina. Sabrina, are you ready yet?’

Mama swept into the bedroom in a cloud of raspberry gauze and cream silk. ‘The carriage will be here any moment, my love, you must hurry.’

‘I am nearly ready, Mama.’ Sabrina smiled and met her mother’s eyes in the looking glass while her maid tweaked the final few curls into place.

‘There, I have done, Lady Kydd.’ Jane stepped back and regarded her charge with a satisfied smile.

Sabrina jumped up and gave a little twirl. ‘Well, Mama, will I do?’

‘Yes indeed, love, you look beautiful.’

‘Thank you!’

Sabrina blushed, grateful for the compliment, although privately, she considered her fair hair and green eyes a trifle insipid. She would much prefer to be a dark-eyed beauty, like her friend Helen, who was now betrothed to the eldest son of the Earl of Tarleton.

‘I know dark, curling hair is by far more fashionable,’ remarked Mama, as if reading her mind, ‘but you have a good figure and pleasing manners and you must make the most of yourself, if we are to find you a husband.’

Sabrina protested, laughing. ‘Surely there is plenty of time for that.’

‘Perhaps, but Papa’s funds will not stretch to another season such as this, my love.’

Mama was looking troubled and Sabrina could not bear that.

‘We do not need another season!’ she said, running across to hug her mother. ‘Much as I enjoy all the balls and routs, we managed very well in London last year without them. We had friends and parties enough, did we not?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Mama brightened and patted her cheek. ‘And I am sure we shall do equally well next year. Quickly now, Sabrina, we must say goodnight to Papa before we leave.’

Obediently, Sabrina followed her mother downstairs to the little study, where they found Sir Anthony working at his desk. He looked up as they came in and removed his spectacles as he smiled at them.

‘Well, well. My two lovely ladies. And both in new gowns, I see.’

‘Oh, tush, sir, would you have us go out in rags?’ exclaimed Mama. ‘What do you think of your daughter? Is she not beautiful?’

Papa got up from his chair and came across to Sabrina. He took her hands and fell silent as he studied her for a moment.

‘Exquisite,’ he said at last, a faint tremor in his voice. ‘I have never seen you looking better, my love. I am sure the young men will be falling over themselves to dance with you tonight.’

She squeezed his fingers. ‘I wish you were coming with us, Papa.’

‘Bless you, child, but Almack’s is not a place for me, much as I love to watch you dance. I have work to do here, but I shall wait up for you, and you can tell me all about it when you return.’

She stretched up to kiss his cheek before skipping out to the waiting carriage. Her spirits were already buzzing with anticipation at the evening ahead. She knew Almack’s was known as the Marriage Mart and she was aware that Mama had strained every sinew to obtain vouchers to enter those hallowed halls for the sole purpose of finding a suitable husband for her only daughter.

Thankfully, her previous visits had been a success. There was no shortage of partners and Sabrina had taken great pleasure in standing up with every one of them. It was no hardship, because she loved to dance, but as she followed her mother into the ballroom, this time she found herself hoping to see one man in particular.

There were several fair-haired gentlemen present, but not one of them was the Adonis she was looking for. The charming, handsome, eligible bachelor, who was notorious for breaking hearts. They were all either too tall or too short, too old or too young to be him; too narrow shouldered or pot-bellied. She was disappointed, but it would not do to show it. A stammering young gentleman came up to beg for the pleasure of standing up with her and Sabrina accepted with her sunniest smile.

Then he was there. It was nearing eleven o’clock and as Sabrina’s partner escorted her off the floor she spotted his tall, athletic figure standing beside Mama.

She could not stop her happiness bursting out into a smile.

‘Sabrina, my dear, here is Lord John Callater come to dance with you,’ declared Mama as she came up to them. She sounded triumphant, because she, too, knew that Lord John rarely came to Almack’s.

‘Miss Kydd.’ He bowed over her hand with exquisite grace.

‘My lord.’

He held out his arm to her, and she placed her fingers upon the woollen sleeve, a little shiver of pleasure running through her when she felt the strong muscle beneath fine material.

‘You came,’ she murmured as he led her away to join the set that was forming.

‘You wanted me to come and I said I would do so. I am not one to let down a friend.’

‘Are we friends, Lord John?’ she asked, peeping up at him.

‘I’d like to think so.’ Those blue eyes glinted down at her. ‘And is it not time you called me Jack, as my other friends do?’

She knew she must not beam back at him and yet, inside, her heart was singing. It continued to sing louder with every glance, every touch of the hands. She had never felt like this before.

The two country dances were all too short, but afterwards he begged to be allowed to take her into supper.

‘Such as it is,’ he remarked, eyeing the thinly sliced bread and plain cake through his quizzing glass.

Sabrina chuckled but she said primly, ‘One does not come here for the refreshments, my lord.’

‘True.’ He looked around him. ‘I wish we could forego the supper and find a quiet corner where we could talk, but that would give rise to all sorts of gossip and speculation.’

Sabrina nodded. She was well aware of Lord John Callater’s reputation as a charming flirt. Mama had warned her of it after their first meeting, a few weeks earlier, but so far his behaviour towards her had been exemplary. He had not singled her out by any word or gesture; anyone watching would think them nothing but friendly acquaintances, but Sabrina felt sure it was so much more than that. It was not merely her fancy. She heard it in the tone of his voice, read it in his glinting smile. She felt a connection whenever he was near. It warmed her, made her feel...cherished, although she was afraid to hope it meant anything more than friendship.

Lord John Callater might cause her to lie awake at night reliving their all too brief encounters; he might haunt her dreams, but she knew better than to think it might mean anything more serious to such a worldly-wise gentleman.

When their meagre supper was finished, they went back to the ballroom, where Sabrina spotted her next partner standing beside Mama. She pointed this out to Lord John, who nodded.

‘I will take you over to them.’

She was strangely dissatisfied with this answer. She would have liked him to whisk her away in the opposite direction. She wanted him to carry her off to some secluded corner where they might flirt outrageously. A little thrill ran through her. He might even kiss her...

‘Tell me,’ he said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts, ‘Will you be at home tomorrow?’

‘Why, yes.’

‘And your father?’

She laughed, puzzled. ‘I believe so.’

They had reached Mama now and stopped. Lord John took her hand and bowed over it.

‘Until tomorrow then.’ His wicked smile flashed. He whispered, ‘Sabrina Fair.’

And with that he was gone.

Questions buzzed around in Sabrina’s head for the rest of the evening. What could it mean? Why did he ask if Papa would be at home? Surely...she felt suddenly dizzy with the thought of it...surely that could only mean one thing. Lord John Callater was going to propose.

Sabrina danced and laughed her way through the final hours at Almack’s, then rode home to Russell Square in a rosy haze, reliving every moment she had spent with Lord John. Jack. An extra glow of happiness ran through her at the thought of calling him that.

When they reached the house, she wanted to slip off to her room, to climb into bed and go over it all again, but her mother said that Papa would be waiting for them. They went to the drawing room, where they found her father sitting by the hearth, an empty brandy glass at his elbow. He was staring into the fire and Sabrina skipped across and dropped a light kiss on his head.

‘We have had the most wonderful evening!’ she exclaimed, sitting down onto the footstool beside him. ‘Oh, Papa, if only you had been there to see for yourself!’

It was as if he had not heard her. He looked over her head at Mama, his eyes staring out from a face suddenly grown pale and haggard. Lady Kydd gave a little cry of dismay.

‘Oh, my dear sir, what is it, are you ill?’

Sabrina took his hands in her own. ‘What is it, Papa, what has happened?’

He looked down at her then, such anguish in his eyes that her blood ran cold.

‘Sabrina.’ His voice cracked. ‘Oh, my dear child. We are ruined.’