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the estate after their return from France, and their failure to find the treasure.” Her mouth quirked. “My ancestor had had expensive habits, including a very expensive mistress, and my father suspected he had given the jewels to her, claiming to have buried them when the rest of the family asked where they were! But Rupert still dreamed of it, and invented a game of buried treasure: on wet afternoons, he would dream of all the things he would buy if the family jewels were ever found. Winning a large bet would be akin to finding buried treasure.”
    She fell silent, thinking of her brother. At last she roused herself.
    “You said you made my brother a promise?”
    “Yes.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “When I went over to him, it was clear he was dying. He told me that he had two sisters who would be left without any male relative to help them in case of need. He wanted me to promise that I would help you if ever you needed it.”
    “But why?” asked Cassandra. “I did not know that the two of you were on such good terms.”
    She caught a flash of something in his eye, a curious mixture of pain and anger and regret, but then it was gone, and she was left with the feeling that she must have imagined it.
    “I—” he began.
    He broke off as a door opened further down the corridor, and the sound of voices could be heard. The voices grew louder, approaching the door.
    Cassandra froze. She was alone in a dimly lit ante-room with a gentleman. If she was discovered, her reputation would be ruined. She sprang from her chair. The voices grew louder…and then passed. It had been a narrow escape, but she could not afford to stay there any longer. She had been foolish to remain for so long.
    “I must return to the ballroom,” she said, knowing that every minute increased the chance of discovery.
    He nodded. “You will call on me if you need any help?” he asked. “You know where I live. A note will bring me to you at any time.”
    “Yes. I will. Thank you. But I don’t expect I will see Mr. Elwin again.”
    She went over to the door and listened. Everything was quiet. She opened it cautiously and looked out. The corridor was empty. She slipped out of the room and made her way back to the ballroom, drawn by the sound of music.
    The ballroom seemed dazzling. After the dimness of the ante-room, she found the light almost painful. The noise, too, troubled her. She was no longer in the mood for frivolity, and wanted to go home. She could not escape her duty, however, and when Captain Wade introduced her to a new partner she was forced to take his hand and go on to the dance floor.
    The gentleman in question was a foppish young man, dressed in a tight coat and breeches, by the name of Mr. Kingsley. Yellow stockings adorned his legs, and his hair was elaborately curled. His conversation revolved around clothes, canes and snuff boxes, and to begin with, Cassandra found it irritating. By and by, however, she began to emerge from her dark thoughts and return to the light, so that she was able to take an interest in the conversation. It ended with her agreeing that lace fans were more elegant than chicken skin, and that every well-dressed gentleman should be in possession of a silver-topped cane.
    “What an enjoyable evening!” said Maria, as they met again at the side of the floor. “I missed you after supper, but then I saw you dancing with Mr. Kingsley and knew you must be enjoying yourself. He is rather ridiculous, but he is a dear.” She looked around. “The evening is drawing to an end. It’s time for us to go. Where’s Harry? Ah, there he is.” She caught Harry’s attention. “It’s time to go home,” she told him.
    “I was just thinking the same thing myself.”
    The ladies collected their shawls and then waited for the carriage to be brought round. Harry helped them in and they were on their way. As the coach pulled away, Cassandra saw Lord Deverill leaving the assembly rooms and mounting his horse. Their