Two days later, when the Earl had departed for Windsor Castle, driving his team of black horses and looking extremely dashing in a new phaeton painted in the yellow and black of his family colours, Petrina received a reply to her letter.
She read it, concealed it in her reticule and then went to the Dowager Duchess’s sitting room.
“Have you anything particular planned for this evening, ma’am?” she asked.
“We have no invitations,” the Dowager Duchess replied. “As you know, everybody has either gone to Ascot or is pretending to have done so. Our next ball is on Friday evening after the racing is over.”
“Then if you don’t mind, ma’am, I would like to dine with Claire tonight.”
“Yes, of course,” the Dowager Duchess approved, “and it will give me a chance to have dinner in bed. My leg has
