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Angelica hung her head; little did Mr Asprey know how close he had come to the truth. When he discovered the reason for her flight from the ball she feared he would realise he certainly shouldn’t be seen with her in polite society anywhere. With some mischief in his voice he said, ‘If it’s not too indelicate to ask, how do you keep those capacious breeches from falling down?’

‘It’s very indelicate of you to even notice I’m so improperly dressed. It’s shaming indeed to reveal my legs to you or any man.’ Despite the desperateness of her situation Angelica could not prevent her own sense of humour from breaking through.

‘Come, come, Miss Leigh. Such modesty is misplaced when I and half of London have already seen you in a sodden chemise carried lifeless from the stage.’

‘You are ungentlemanly, sir, to continue to remind me. That was Ophelia you saw, not Angelica Leigh.’

He chuckled. ‘Forgive me, but it was undeniably the corporeal form of a very beautiful actress called Miss Angelica Leigh.’ He was still amused when he drove the curricle into the courtyard behind the Burlington Arms. Ostlers sloped forward to take the horses’ heads and glanced with some curiosity at the unusual personage sitting beside the driver they knew well. Ivor Asprey was brusque. ‘Can you ask Jim to see to my horse, Meg? She’s lame having fallen on her knees on the highway.’ He jumped to the ground and walked to Angelica’s side of the carriage. ‘Give me your left hand and I’ll lift you down. I don’t want any more damage done to that shoulder.’

Tiredness had sapped her strength and she could barely stand. As she slipped to the ground with Mr Asprey’s arm round her waist, Angelica almost crumpled when her legs had to take her weight. He held her to his chest while she steadied herself. The ostlers were watching this performance with some bemusement. They knew Mr Asprey as a gentleman truly up to the mark, a top sawyer who knew his horses and dealt well with everyone. But this strange burlesque of a groom looked half-cut and as if he’d come off worst in a brawl – he was not even dressed in Asprey livery.

Angelica was aware of their interest and disengaged herself from her rescuer’s arms. ‘We’re causing comment, Mr Asprey.’

‘I really couldn’t care a damn.’ Angelica looked at him with surprise. ‘And yes I will curse in front of you now you have given up your privileges as a woman.’

‘I think you should be more concerned about your reputation, sir.’

‘I doubt any of the men here know or care what I do.’

‘But you cannot know who else might be interested. Lord Rackham for instance.’ Angelica realised how the nagging pain of her shoulder and the nausea of sleeplessness made her emotions fragile; she shuddered at the memory of the predatory lord.

‘You need some food. Come.’ Mr Asprey led the way into the inn where he was greeted like an old friend and immediately shown to a private parlour at the back. There was a fire and Angelica sank with relief onto the bench by the table. ‘Would you like some hot chocolate to restore you, Miss Leigh? And some rolls and ham and cheese?’

She could only nod and her head sank to her hand. Mr Asprey sat opposite her. ‘Before you can sleep we have to investigate this injury and whether I have to get my surgeon to see you.’ He asked Angelica to extend her right arm and see how high she could lift it. When she gasped at the pain he took her hand and gently lifted it higher, then back behind her, before rotating it with care.

She was wincing, clenching her jaw trying not to cry out, but he looked pleased. ‘At least your shoulder isn’t broken or dislocated. Good. Now to check your collarbone.’ He put his hand on the front of the coat but the wool fabric was so thick and the embellishment of braid made it impossible to feel her bone beneath.

‘Miss Leigh, I’ve had some experience with boxing injuries, would you permit me to check your collarbone and shoulder properly?’ When she nodded he undid the top fastening and slipped a hand in under the heavy wool cloth. In a businesslike manner, he ran his fingers gently along her collarbone until he reached her shoulder. His cool sure touch made her shiver. Their faces were so close she had to turn away. His eyes were thoughtful as he concentrated on the progress of his two fingers and thumb inching back along the bone. He closed the coat fastening and said with satisfaction, ‘Nothing broken, thank goodness. You’ll live.’

Then Ivor Asprey’s eyes caught her gaze and his cool grave efficiency faltered and a spark of more unruly energy flickered between them. Angelica held her breath, her eyes wide. At that moment the inn keeper bustled in carrying a tray with a tankard of ale and a bowl of hot chocolate, together with a plate of meat, cheese and bread. The connection was broken and Angelica closed her eyes for a second. When she glanced at the food on the table she realised how famished she was and started to eat a roll stuffed with a lump of hard yellow cheese. Something so modest had last tasted so good when she was a hungry child back in Rupert Street.

They both sat in silence for a minute of two, Ivor watching Angelica over the top of his ale glass. ‘Now you’re a little revived with food, I’d be grateful for some explanation as to why at dawn I was propelled onto the highroad instead of heading for my bed.’ He sat back and crossed his legs, brushing the dust of the journey from his immaculate top boots. Angelica noticed the lines of fatigue etched across his brow.

‘I didn’t expect anyone to follow me.’

‘Well, having saved you from a deadly bout of influenza I wasn’t about to let you break your neck on the King’s highway. Come, Miss Leigh, you’re prevaricating. What caused you to flee?’

‘I don’t want to involve you in any more of my scandals.’

‘I’m already involved,’ he said in a droll manner, stretching his legs towards the fire.

Angelica realised she could not maintain her latest resolution to keep her shame to herself, and especially from Mr Asprey, without seeming petulant. In a hesitant voice she began to tell her sorry tale. ‘In the last hours of the ball I was waiting for my friends to return from supper. A tall imposing lady dressed as the Great Queen bore down on me.’

‘Ah, the Countess of Bellingham, the formidable Alfreda. The Barton-Craig family dominates the northern Marches. Your father should have chosen more carefully.’

Angelica looked startled. ‘How do you know my father’s involved?’

‘If there’s trouble it tends to be traced back to him, would you not agree?’

‘But neither you nor Lord Latimer were there to see my ruin.’

‘’Tis true, but then nothing much escapes me, Miss Leigh. My staff accuse me of being omniscient.’ He smiled as if reminding himself of something amusing. ‘But ruin it cannot be. Fine actress as you are, I’ve never thought you melodramatic.’ He cocked an eyebrow at her, awaiting still an explanation.

The food had revived Angelica and she felt vestiges of her old spirits return. Mr Asprey was looking rather insufferably smug she thought, as she said, ‘If you’re such a prodigal of knowledge then you don’t need me to elaborate on what happened next.’

He stirred the fire with his boot. ‘Did it involve, by chance, an ancestral necklace?’

Angelica closed her eyes in an attempt at warding off the memory of her mortification. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought it was my grandmother’s and I loved it.’