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Disengaging from her father’s hug, she clutched his hand, but he chatted on, his Franco-Irish lilt more marked than ever. ‘Well, it’s obvious to a fond father that there’s the young blood with every advantage and then the admirable sobersides, who is not quite as sober as he seems.’ He cast her a knowing grin as he tipped his hat. ‘Both strike me as eminently fitted to claim you as their prize.’

‘But Papa…’

‘We’ll meet again, Angelica. Adieu!’ and with a wave he sped down the front steps and into the night.

She sighed, her heart full of the turmoil of loss and dread and the confusions of love. Her father’s last riposte made her realise he meant Lord Latimer and Ivor Asprey. Of course, it would have struck Mr Crowe that only love would make such an eminent politician risk his career and reputation as he had done. However, Angelica believed what propelled this honourable man into such reckless behaviour was not his feelings for her but the exhilaration of being reunited with his lost youth. Grief and responsibility had so tamped down the well-spring of his nature and now some latch had slipped and this new energy flowed into his parched soul and he was revived. She was too tired to try and unravel the meaning of it all and after the alarums of the day, Angelica thought longingly of bed. Mary obviously had something to say to her too, but it could wait until the morning.

8

SHE SHALL GO TO THE BALL

When Edward Breville and Amabel Leigh returned from Paris there was even more commotion in Berkeley Square than when they had departed a month before. Trunks of fine china, fabric, gowns and every luxurious accessory from shawls to bonnets, gilded boxes and pretty ceramic ornaments were unloaded from the great coach they had hired to convey them from Dover to London. Angelica flew into her mother’s arms. ‘Welcome home, Mama. I’m so pleased to see you.’

‘Oh, how glad I am to be back!’ Mrs Leigh had flopped onto the sofa in the drawing room while servants bustled to convey the luggage to her bedroom.

Angelica gazed at her mother, struck by how elegant she looked in pink and grey striped satin, and youthful too, with excitement sparkling in her eyes. ‘It seems a most successful trip.’ She laughed.

‘Truly divine. Paris is recovering fast from the war. All the elegant shops and restaurants are open. C’est ravissant.’ She patted the sofa. ‘Come and tell me about what’s been happening to you.’

Angelica took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know where to begin. My cold turned into an inflammation of the lungs. I thought I was dying, but am much better now.’

Her mother grasped her shoulders and hugged her fleetingly. ‘Oh my darling. I should have been here. Did Martin and Mary manage?’ Her eyes were full of concern.

Angelica did not want to have to go into the whole story at this point as she had much more important news to impart. ‘Then Mama, the most extraordinary thing. My father turned up unheralded. I could not have been more shocked. And angry.’ She had moved away from her mother’s side and looked back at her with a searching look. Amabel Leigh’s hand flew to her face. She grew pale and for a while could not speak. Angelica continued, ‘How could you and he have thought it a good idea to have me believe he was dead?’

Mrs Leigh reached out for her, her voice breathless. ‘Angelica, it was a time of terrible fear. His life was in real danger. He had to get away and probably never return so we thought it less painful for you to think he had died.’ Her face was contorted with the memory.

‘But what had he done, Mama, that was so terrible? I thought it was just debt.’

‘Is that what he told you?’

‘He evaded my question and also wouldn’t tell me his real name.’

‘Well, his name is Peter Crowley. What is he calling himself now?’ Her voice sounded wary.

‘Prosper Crowe. In fact, he was hoping to see you but early this morning was dashing for the coast to evade the law once again.’

Amabel Leigh held her head in her hands. ‘He seems no better now than he ever was.’

‘Well, he has managed to make a success of his life in Paris. Running a gentlemen’s gaming club feeding off the gullible. I told him we could have done with some support from him when we were starving.’ Angelica walked to the window and said in a sorrowful voice, ‘Mama, I feel I cannot trust you any more to tell me the truth.’

Her mother cried out in distress, ‘Oh my dear. I did not know what to do for the best. You were my only concern. The fact he was a criminal and exiled in disgrace was something I could not bear. So I told you he was a hero who had died fighting for Lord Nelson. You can trust me, I assure you on my life!’ Her voice rose with emotion.

‘Well, in a belated gesture he brought with him a small chest of gold Napoléons as a long-owed debt to us both.’

‘What? Where?’

‘It’s under the hall table. I haven’t looked inside. On his past behaviour, it may well be full of brass.’

At this point Mr Breville entered the room looking weary. ‘Angelica, my dear.’ He approached her with his arms wide. ‘We have had the most successful trip. I am delighted with the range of porcelain ordered for the business, and at most gratifying prices, thanks to the suppressant effects of the war.’ He turned to his mistress. ‘Amabel, my dear, have you shown Angelica our present for her?’

Mrs Leigh jumped up, grateful to have a reason to change the subject to something cheerier than her shortcomings as a parent. ‘It is so charming.’ She tripped up the stairs to her suite of rooms where the trunks were being unpacked, disgorging a riot of colour. Angelica heard the rustle of silk as she returned. Her mother was holding in her arms the most beautiful evening dress she had ever seen. It seemed a rippling constellation of stars.

She gasped. ‘Mama! Mr Breville. Is this for me?’ Mrs Leigh handed over the gown of inky blue overlaid with silver organza lace. It shimmered in the light as if constantly moving. ‘I’ve never seen anything as lovely, even in a French fashion plate.’ She held it against her body and twirled with delight. ‘I’ll wear it tomorrow to the masquerade ball to celebrate Lord Latimer’s majority.’

Mrs Leigh grasped her hand. ‘Oh, this is exciting. I’m delighted you have such an auspicious occasion to wear it.’

‘Yes, I’m going as the Fairy Queen. How better to impersonate such a magical creature.’