‘What of it, Lucy? Are they offering guided tours? Charging coach parties to restore the family fortunes?’
‘Not so, my love, not so at all. They’ve invited us to a ball.’
‘Great God, Lucy, this must be the first time we’ve been invited out by one of my police Inspectors. When is this great event?’
‘It’s at the end of June. It must be round about the longest day of the year.’
‘It seems rather a long way to go, just for a couple of dances, Lucy,’ said Powerscourt, but his eyes betrayed him.
‘Francis, how could you? Of course we’ll go.’ Lady Lucy sank into a kind of reverie. Beneath her feet she could feel the sprung floor of the ballroom. Around her glided beautiful people bedecked with tiaras and emeralds, their men wearing sashes of the military, medals shining on their chests. The air was filled with the perfume of the flowers. Strauss’s ‘Emperor’ waltz wrapped them in its rhythms, the dancers circling the floor in time with the music.
‘Oh, Francis, we must go. We can dance until the dawn and watch the sun come up from the island in the lake. It’ll be magnificent, a night to remember in the heart of England!’