In Chaos Come Again, a neighbour of my hero’s grandfather discovers him with the runaway heiress he has rescued.

“Lady Blaine,” Colonel O’Toole said. “It is Lady Blaine, is it not?”

The lady lifted a lorgnette to examine him and raised both brows. “Surely you must be Lionel O’Toole? Lion, my dear boy! How charming to see you. But what are you doing in Darlington? No, do not tell me. Of course, you are going to Persham Abbey. Is the earl dying at last?”

“As far as I know, my lady, my grandfather is as fit as ever, and will outlive us all. But yes, I am bound for Persham Abbey.”

She rapped the colonel’s arm with her lorgnette. “Ruthford is very proud of you, Lion. Every time you are mentioned in despatches, we hear about it from him, and when you made colonel, one might have thought you had been appointed king. He won’t tell you, of course. Too proud. So, I am letting you know myself.”

Colonel O’Toole looked startled, but he said, “Then I thank you, my lady. May I ask after Anthony?”

“He is Lord Blaine now, and can you believe that his eldest daughter will be making her come-out in two years? Ridiculous how time passes. He will be delighted to hear I have seen you. I daresay he shall ride over to visit you while you are at the Abbey.” She turned to Dorothea. “But I am being rude, my dear. You must forgive me. Lionel and my son Anthony were great friends in their school days.”

Mrs Austin inserted herself. “This is Miss Brabant, my lady.”

“My betrothed,” the colonel added, taking Dorothea’s hand and squeezing it in an unspoken message.

“The Brabant Mills heiress,” Lady Blaine said. “Oh, well done, Lion. Congratulations. And my very best wishes to you, Miss Brabant. Lion is a splendid fellow. I am sure you will be very happy. But you are in a hurry. We will leave you to your lunch and hope to see you during your stay at the Abbey. Come along, Mrs Austin.”

Dorothea protested as soon as the door shut behind the two women. “Betrothed?” Her heart had given a jump when he said it. He didn’t mean it, of course. There was no use hoping he did, and the sooner she heard him say it was a ploy, the better.

“We’ll discuss it in a minute,” the colonel promised. “Corporal, give them the signal to serve lunch, would you?”