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‘I’m afraid some crimes are too heinous to be erased by time.’

Panic rose in her breast. ‘But it was only debt. He did not take anyone’s life.’

Lord Rackham did not answer but watched her trying to compose herself. He placed his other hand on her arm. ‘There is a solution very satisfactory to me, and to which I hope you might agree.’

Angelica met his eyes. All her acting skills were needed now to appear calm and assured despite the turmoil of her thoughts. What had her father done? How little she knew him but yet could not bear to think of him imprisoned. A dread thought gripped her; was it even worse? That it was the gibbet that he had escaped when fleeing to France? She wished she was leading Storm and could lean against her for strength instead. ‘What could that solution be, Lord Rackham?’

He took a step towards her and looked down into her face with eyes that had grown dark and hungry. ‘A young woman in your profession with such beauty as yours understands the relationship between such as you and a man like me.’ When she did not respond he continued, ‘If you come to my house in Curzon Street by three tomorrow then I will call off the Waterguard and Excise men who patrol the coastline and ports. Your father will then have unimpeded passage back to France.’

Angelica could feel his breath on her cheek. She was astounded that he felt he could talk so to her. It was a measure of his scant respect for her. Meeting his eyes she asked, ‘I presume this is not an offer of marriage, Lord Rackham?’

He turned away from her gaze with a harsh laugh. ‘You’re no foolish young miss. And almost as versed in the ways of the world as am I. It should come as no surprise that men like me do not marry women like you.’ He looked back at her with a feral smile that showed his teeth. Without a modicum of embarrassment or shame he set out his terms. ‘However, I will set you up with your own household. You may continue your work in the theatre if you wish and have your own friends, within reason. In return, you accompany me to a few select soirées and entertain me at home.’

Angelica had sensed this was always what Lord Rackham had had in mind since he’d first started visiting her at the theatre. But now he held her father’s life in his hands he had an inducement to make her comply with his wishes. She could not risk enraging him with a hasty dismissal and had to think fast. ‘So, Lord Rackham, I have until tomorrow afternoon to accept your offer?’

‘Indeed. Think carefully, Miss Leigh, I consider it a generous offer. I think you too will come to find it most satisfactory. I look forward to sharing some tea with you at Rackham House. Number twenty-eight Curzon, opposite the gardens of Chesterfield House.’

‘And you will guarantee my father would not be apprehended at any port?’

‘Of course. What is the use in having power if one doesn’t use it to one’s own advantage?’ He took her gloved hand and pressed her fingers. Glancing up, she saw his face unexpectedly lightened by a sly humour. ‘Your beauty is compelling, Miss Leigh. I am under your spell and will not be able to rest until I can claim you as mine.’ He still had hold of her hand and deftly unbuttoned her glove and slipped it from her fingers. Looking down at her hand, he slowly put it to his lips and held it there. Angelica shuddered and he sighed. ‘You won’t regret our association, I promise you.’

So close to recoiling with a cry, Angelica nevertheless maintained a certain dignity as she turned to walk over to Robert, who gave her a lift into the saddle. She replaced her glove while a kind of shame washed over her. No gentleman would treat a young woman of his own class in such a way. She looked up. Lord Rackham was already mounted on his steed. He raised his hat in greeting before wheeling his horse around and cantering away through the trees.

Turning to Robert, Angelica said with some urgency, ‘I have to get home to talk to Mr Brunner.’ It was all she could think of. How to get her father out of the country and to safety.

* * *

Mr Brunner listened to Angelica with concern. She omitted to tell him about the bargain that hung over her, only that Prosper Crowe had to find a way of escaping the country when the excise men were on the alert along the coast. ‘I think we will either need a crafty smuggler, unknown to the authorities, or some alternative private boat that sails from one of the unfrequented coves on the southern coast.’ Since Lord Latimer’s precipitate behaviour to save Angelica’s life, Mr Brunner had discovered a new respect for the young nobleman. No longer such a spoilt, over-privileged wastrel, he considered him now a worthy colleague in any enterprise. His pugilist face cleared with the thought. ‘The only person I know who might have such a yacht is that young lordly friend of yours. Dashing young blades like him are often given boats as playthings when they turn eighteen.’

Angelica was agitated, pacing the hallway, her mind full of contrary scenarios about how best to proceed. This suggestion seemed as good a place to start as any. ‘Would you take a note to Lord Latimer at Arlington House in Grosvenor Square? I cannot call myself. It wouldn’t do to have his mother get word of such a scandal, my person is scandal enough for her.’ She did not add how it would delight the Duchess to have her father’s disgrace as even more reason to make Angelica persona non grata.

Mr Brunner returned, breathless with the deflating news that Lord Latimer was at the racing at Newmarket and not to return until the morrow. Angelica’s sense of resolve gave way to urgent anxiety. The only other competent men she knew were Mr Asprey and his secretary, Nicholas Digby. She determined to get a Hackney carriage to Westminster Hall and hope for an audience with one or the other of them before Parliament’s late sitting began. Her tiredness forgotten, she called into the kitchens for Mary.

Still wearing her riding habit, Angelica reached for her blue cloak whose hood usefully covered her hair. She did not want her presence advertised to Mr Asprey’s colleagues and enemies; it would be mortifying to bring embarrassment or discredit down on his head while he was engaged in promoting such important legislation.

Mr Brunner hailed a cab and the two women climbed in as it set off south to Westminster. Although it was possible for ordinary tourists to visit areas of the ancient Hall, this was the first time Angelica had seen it and she was amazed at the size and age of the building with its crumbling headless figures in the niches in the wall. The Hackney carriage slowly approached the elegant colonnade that marked Speaker’s House where she could gain entry to the House of Commons. As they walked through the cloister a constable in uniform greeted her and asked her business.

‘Could you tell Mr Asprey there is a lady to see him?’ Angelica had disguised her distinctive hair by pulling up her hood and did not wish to give her name. The constable looked at her sharply but seemed satisfied she was not about to cause any trouble. He left the two women in the spacious lobby waiting by a great Russian stove that emitted so much heat the vast stone building seemed almost cosy.

At the sound of footsteps, Angelica looked up to see Nicholas Digby striding towards them, the tails of his dark coat flying. When he was almost upon them his face broke into a warm smile. ‘Ah, Miss Leigh, Mary! I wondered who this mysterious “lady” could be. I hope nothing has happened?’ His eyes were concerned as he took her hand in greeting.

Angelica did not reply but said instead, ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.’

‘Mr Asprey has some time before he goes into the committee meeting.’ He led the way back up the corridor and through a green and white painted door into an office overflowing with books and papers. He indicated a chair for Mary and then led Angelica into the inner sanctum where Ivor Asprey sat at a desk, his quill poised. The light slanted in through the gothic window and his dark figure intent on a letter in his hand was burnished with the warm glow of late afternoon sun. As Mr Digby knocked he looked up, abstracted.

Angelica had thrown back her hood and the same sunlight caught her hair, seeming to set it aflame. His eyes met hers with a look of open surprise but then concern made him rise and come towards her. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure, Miss Leigh? I hope nothing is amiss?’ Nicholas Digby had withdrawn back to the outer room where he addressed the pile of correspondence.

With Mary next door, Angelica found herself alone with Mr Asprey. She was unexpectedly shy. ‘I apologise for bringing my trouble to your door, but Lord Latimer is at the races, my mother and Mr Breville are in Paris until tomorrow and I could think of no one else competent to deal with a conundrum as urgent as this.’

‘You intrigue me, Miss Leigh. You seem to specialise in knotty problems that you seek help to unravel.’ He was smiling and Angelica felt herself blush at the thought of her previous presumption in asking him to return to his gambling ways to help her friend.

‘I promise not to make a habit of it, Mr Asprey. But this time I am confounded as to what to do.’

He motioned to a chair and they sat with their backs warmed by the sun. ‘I was riding in Hyde Park and met Lord Rackham by chance. He told me he had recognised my father and knew him for a felon who had escaped justice when he left for France.’

Ivor’s eyes narrowed. ‘I presume he has some damnable plan to turn this to his advantage?’

‘He’s in charge of the Waterguard and Excise men who patrol the ports and the coast and he said he had issued a command to apprehend him.’