Page 68

Angelica was surprised to hear her own voice express what she thought she’d hidden in her heart. ‘I love a man with whom I have no future.’

‘Why? Is he already allianced?’

She had let the secret out and now continued warily, ‘No, but he’s a prominent lawmaker engaged in important work.’

‘And?’ Mrs Leigh waited for further explanation.

‘Any elevation of me can only detract from his own probity.’

Natural shrewdness had propelled Mrs Leigh from the poverty of the street to the affluence of Berkeley Square and, putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, she said in a confiding voice, ‘My dear, men are the most susceptible of beings. Love will make them do all manner of things that the world might consider wrong-headed and foolish beyond measure. You have the charms to drive even the most sober man to distraction.’

Angelica pulled away impatiently. ‘Mama, you don’t understand. I wish to protect him from my reputation, the very last thing I want is to drive him to distraction!’

‘High principles indeed, Angelica, but you must think of your future too. And you may have no choice in the matter.’ She gave her daughter a knowing smile.

Since her chance meeting with Lord Rackham in the Piazza, Angelica could not escape a real foreboding; he was not called the Black Cat for nothing, and it seemed he was stalking her while out to trap Mr Asprey in his claws. This was something she could not confide to her mother for what exactly was there to confide? Tired already by the day’s activity, Angelica turned to Mrs Leigh whose head was bent over her appointments’ diary once more. ‘Mama, I think I might go to bed early and face the morrow anew.’

‘Before you go, can I mark you in for the Jubilee picnic? As you’ve seen, they’re building that bridge and fireworks tower in St James’s Park. It should be prodigious fine.’

‘Yes, I accept with pleasure.’ Angelica bowed. ‘Goodnight, Mama.’

As she passed Martin in the hall he hailed her. ‘Miss Angelica. A letter!’ He slapped it on a silver salver and flourished it before her. Angelica opened it and read a hurried scrawl in Isobel Fitzjames’s light hand, requesting an audience the following morning at eleven.

Angelica withdrew a piece of notepaper from the drawer in the table in the hall and wrote simply, Yes, indeed, and signed it with a cursive ‘A’. ‘Martin, can you see that delivered tonight to the Fitzjames house in Grosvenor Square? Thank you. Goodnight.’ She barely had the energy to smile as she climbed the stairs to her rooms.

* * *

Despite her troubled mind, sleep would not be resisted. As Angelica sank into her feather bed she felt herself falling out of consciousness and into a dark starless universe of silence. She was woken to pale sun as Mary drew the curtains back on a fine day. For a moment she had forgotten the foreboding of what was to come. Her blithe spirit returned with a sense of how good it was to be alive and to hold her own future in her hands. She loved and was loved. Ivor Asprey’s stern face softened with a rare sweet smile materialised in her mind’s eye but then the dark form of Lord Rackham suddenly appeared with his wolfish look. Angelica broke the reverie by leaping out of bed.

Mary poked her head out of the dressing room where she was selecting the day’s clothes. ‘No rehearsals today, what do you like to wear?’

‘Oh, my green muslin this morning. Miss Fitzjames is coming. And then to go to the Houses of Parliament to see Lord Rackham. I need my armour. Perhaps my emerald green pelisse over the matching silk.’

‘Are you sure, Miss Angelica? That’s a very fetching outfit,’ Mary said with a sly look in her eyes.

‘It is fetching, I know, but it’s modest in colour and design and makes me feel at my imperious best; I fear I’m going to need all my strength.’

‘You don’t have to go, you know.’ Mary’s rough childhood had made her less accommodating and more cynical in her relationship with the world.

‘I do. I fear he’s hatching some dark plan to discredit Mr Asprey and ruin his parliamentary career.’ As Angelica spoke a wild scheme entered her mind. Lord Rackham was a notorious high stakes gambler; she wondered if he was as financially embarrassed as many of his peers. Half of the chest of coins from her father was meant for her use, might he be susceptible to the sight of gold? It seemed so many men were. She determined to take as many coins as she could without drawing attention to herself. Maybe she could buy Lord Rackham’s silence?

Angelica dressed hurriedly. Mary combed out her hair, freeing the tangles from the night. It tumbled down Angelica’s back almost to her waist. Mary wove it into fine plaits and coiled them onto her head with tendrils soft round her face.

Angelica had just finished her last cup of coffee and strolled into the hall when there was a knock on the front door. Without waiting for Martin, she opened it to find Isobel Fitzjames on the doorstep, her face lively and flushed. She grasped Angelica’s hand and followed her into the hall. ‘Oh, Miss Angelica, do you mind if we walk to Hyde Park? Lord Latimer and Mr Locke are going to be there exercising their horses. They want to see us and I’d really like to meet them.’ Her words tumbled out in excitement.

Angelica smiled. ‘Of course. It’s a lovely day and I could do with some fresh air to blow away the indolence of the night.’ She ran upstairs for her pelisse and bonnet. ‘I think we can leave our maids here, don’t you agree?’

Within minutes, the young women were walking briskly up Davies Street towards Grosvenor Square and the gate into the Park. Isobel was light-hearted as she grasped Angelica’s arm and said, ‘My lord is taking me to see his mama and papa for a formal introduction tomorrow. You’ve met the Duke, can you tell me anything about him?’

‘He’s never recovered from his terrible injuries, at the Battle of Alexandria I believe. Certainly a good decade ago. He keeps to his rooms but is amiable and most exercised over his collection of snuff boxes and mulls.’

‘Oh good, perhaps I can take him one of Papa’s.’ Her small face looked relieved.

‘I think he would very much appreciate that.’

‘And the Duchess?’

‘Well…’ Angelica hesitated. She did not wish to alarm her young friend who was easily frightened. ‘She’s got a reputation as a woman who is seldom gainsaid. The best person to ask is Lord Latimer; after all, she is his mother!’ Angelica laughed.