Henry lunged for his father and ripped the lotus flower from his coat. He crushed it inside his fist, then glanced up guiltily. He saw Caro spot him, his hand still raised. He waved his fist awkwardly, and she began to cross the gallery. Henry struggled to assume a natural pose while holding his hand behind his back.
“You brought her here?” his father hissed. “I told you to stay away from her.”
“Lord Thetford,” she said, “what an unexpected pleasure.”
“Lady Caroline, good afternoon. Have you been introduced to my father?” She shook her head. “May I present my father, the Earl of Ardingly? Father, this is Lady Caroline Astley, daughter of Lord Cheltenham.”
Caro sank into a respectful curtsey, but his father gave only the briefest nod. “Lady Caroline. A pleasure.” His curt tone belied an
