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Angelica could not go back into the house. Her friends were eating in the dining room, Mary was below stairs with the rest of the servants, Mr Asprey was busy elsewhere and she shuddered at the thought of placing in his lap once again any further scandal attached to her name. She just wanted to get home.

Tearing off her mask she ran towards the stables, intent on finding Robert. He was her trusty groom, discreet and capable. He would help her now and she could go to ground like a wounded animal and wait for any hue and cry to pass.

9

THE END OF THE DREAM

The horses had been settled for the night and the sweet scent of hay and their warm flesh greeted her as Angelica entered the yard. Where would she find Robert, she wondered? The Breville carriage was unmistakeable as were the four bays that had pulled it there, standing still and asleep in their stables. ‘Robert,’ Angelica called softly. ‘Robert!’

A tousled head popped out from the loft above the horses. ‘Miss Angelica, what’re ye doing here?’ His head disappeared and he emerged from the back of the stables, tucking his shirt hurriedly into his breeches. ‘Miss Angelica. Ye up to snuff, miss?’ His honest nut-brown face was wreathed in concern.

‘I’m sorry to wake you, Robert, but I have to get home. I wondered if you could saddle me one of Mr Asprey’s hacks?’

‘No, I could not. Ye can’t ride home on these roads. ’Tis madness. A lass alone!’ He was so aghast, Angelica felt sorry for causing him such distress. ‘I’ll take ye back in the carriage then return for Miss Fitzjames and the maids.’

‘No, Robert. There isn’t time. You know I’m a good horsewoman. It will only take me about four hours.’ An inspired thought then came to her. ‘And I will travel as a youth. As long as I can borrow a set of your clothes. Would that be possible?’

‘Only got me livery. ’Spose ye could have that,’ he said reluctantly. ‘I’m not a brawny man but they’ll still be way too big.’

‘I’m sure they’ll do. I just need to disguise that I’m a woman then I’ll be safe.’

‘I don’t like it, miss. What to tell the master when he asks me what the devil I was thinking, letting you go?’

‘You just say that unless you planted me a facer, knocking me stone cold, there was no way to stop me.’

‘Well, Miss Angelica, I’ll tell ye this. Ye always were a headstrong lass, ever since you were a slip of a gal.’ He disappeared into the stable and returned with his breeches and braided jacket, his boots and a braided top hat.

Angelica had been gazing to the east and pointed out that dawn was not far off. She joined the horses so she could dress in her borrowed livery. It was a struggle to undo the buttons down the back of her ballgown but luckily her stays were French and unlaced at the side.

‘Robert, I just need some string for a belt to keep these breeches up, else I’ll be an embarrassment to you and myself.’ Despite being heartsick she could not but be amused at how she must appear. Her spirits lifted at the thought that she would grasp her destiny once again. When she arrived home she could think what to do next and find her way through the flood of emotions after this one startling and portentous night.

Robert woke Mr Asprey’s head groom and asked which mount would be most appropriate to borrow. He pointed out a chestnut horse and said, ‘This is Meg. She’s a sweet-tempered mare with the stamina for the ride.’ Robert saddled her and led her out of the stable.

Angelica had folded up her precious dress along with her chemise and stays, placing her dancing shoes and the Venetian mask in a separate pile. Robert’s eyes widened at the sight of his mistress dressed in his oversized livery, the baggy breeches tied with string. His brimmed hat just about hid her hair, still unnaturally blue and coiffed but untidy, with tendrils escaping from the pins. To his eyes she did not look like a groom, not even like a youth, but the livery and hat hid most of the incongruities of her appearance. He offered his hand for Angelica’s booted foot then tossed her up into the saddle.

Meg was a handsome mare. Robert relayed the groom’s warning, ‘She’s not a galloper, mind, doesn’t care for hard riding but is a reliable and willing hack.’

Angelica felt liberated to be dressed in man’s clothes, able to ride astride and travel with little chance of notice. The jacket and breeches were far too big for her but they were warm and as long as she was in the saddle their capaciousness did not matter. She waved at Robert. ‘Don’t forget to give my clothes and the message to Mary. It’s very important you tell her I have had to go home. And please tell Miss Fitzjames and Lord Latimer, so they don’t worry.’ For some reason she did not want to let Mr Asprey know, so embarrassed was she by the whole debacle happening in his house, within sight of his prideful family.

‘I saw Milord and Miss Fitzjames in the garden, miss, and they didn’t seem to be worrying about anybody much.’ When he saw Angelica’s frowning face he regretted his levity. He knew that servants, however bawdy and disrespectful their talk about their masters when they were relaxing with their own, were always discreet when talking to others about their betters. ‘Sorry, miss.’

‘Oh, don’t worry now, Robert,’ Angelica said impatiently. ‘It’s far more important that you deliver my messages. And please give Mary my clothes.’ She looked at the lightening sky. ‘I think it’s just about clear enough to see.’

‘Take care, Miss Angelica. The road is well signposted. It’s a main thoroughfare all the way to Hyde Park Corner.’ In an afterthought he added, ‘Do ye want me barker?’

Angelica recoiled. The thought of her father using a pistol to threaten his victims on the highway was terrible enough. She did not want to have anything to do with firearms and violence and vigorously shook her head. Robert put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some coins. ‘Take these, miss. Ye’ll need them for the tolls.’

‘Thank you, Robert, for everything. You have helped me more than you can know.’ She saluted him and turned the horse’s head towards the east. The air was chilly and the early light hazy and grey, but Angelica felt her spirits lift at the thought of the open road before her and no scandal to follow yet on her heels. She encouraged Meg into a trot as they headed off up the drive.

The avenue of chestnut trees offered a dense shade but their large candelabra of flowers just coming into bloom glowed like foam on the sea. A ghostly barn owl skimmed the parkland on its way home after hunting. Early dawn was the margin between nocturnal animals ready for sleep and those who lived by the light. The newly roused birds were in full-throated song and as Angelica rode on up the hill a small herd of red deer set off towards a copse, startling a leash of hares. To be alone with such wealth of wildlife was balm to her soul. Her tiredness fell away. Meg too seemed energised by the prospect of new horizons and her ears were pricked forward, her nostrils savouring the fresh morning air.

As they approached the road, Angelica was relieved to see the grand wrought iron gates to Cloudberry Court were still open from the previous evening’s revelry. They trotted through and joined the intermittent early traffic of lone horsemen, occasional carriages and country carts fully laden with vegetables, firewood or flowers on their way to the city. Meg was an amiable ride. To pace her, Angelica slowed her to a walk as they approached Hampton village green where a few children were already sailing their makeshift boats on the pond and skimming stones before the dame school opened for lessons.

An hour passed fast enough but the light did not brighten much and the threat of rain made the air ominous and heavy. The excitement at the beginning of her journey had given Angelica a surge of energy that was quickly dispersed by her underlying sense of shame and fatigue. As she tired, her mind returned to the humiliation of her necklace and how it changed everything. What a fool she had been to believe anything her father told her. How naïve to think those lovely diamonds could have belonged to her family and could ever have been hers. In this mood of self-reproach Angelica’s mind then turned to Mr Asprey. In the thrill of that unexpected intimacy with him she had forgotten for a few hours the social gulf between them, she had believed that happiness with an honourable man she loved would be possible, openly declared rather than secretive and irregular, set up in a house in Albemarle Street. How deluded she had been. Now she faced the fact that such hopes were mere romantic dreams dissolving in the unforgiving light of day. With a bleak pragmatism Angelica knew she had to accept her place as the daughter of a criminal, possibly even a murderer, tainted by blood and outlawed by her profession from the best society. Energy drained from her as her shoulders slumped and she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing in sleep.

* * *

Back at Cloudberry Court, it was past dawn and the ball had come to an end, the musicians and revellers drifting away. The visiting valets and maids, dozing by the great kitchen hearth and in the adjoining servant’s parlour, awaited the call from upstairs, from their masters and mistresses in need of help with undressing and getting ready for bed. Mary had been roused from fitful dreams by Robert with Angelica’s message. She hurried from the kitchens and by the time she could find Lord Latimer he was so mauled, as she reported back with a snigger, he could barely understand what she was saying. Miss Fitzjames was with him and she grasped that Angelica had not retired to bed early, as they had thought, but been called away. She too was tired and did not question Mary further as to why and how.