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Mrs Priddy turned a concerned face to her young companion. ‘Of course!’

‘I can barely allow myself to articulate it out loud…’ She paused. ‘The thing is, I actually know I love Lord Rokeby. And I think he might have some affection for me.’

Mrs Priddy put her small soft hand on Leonora’s. ‘I know.’ Leonora looked at her, startled. ‘To someone who understands and loves you as I do, it’s been as clear as day since you first met him.’

Leonora’s hands flew to her face, her cheeks flaming. ‘Oh, no! It cannot have been so obvious. How mortifying! Does he know?’

Mrs Priddy scoffed, ‘Of course not! Men are blind, deaf and dumb when it comes to knowing a woman’s heart! He’s probably worrying that you cannot care for him, that you recoil from his looks.’

‘But might he have lost any regard he once had? I have behaved so badly.’ Leonora was fearful of entertaining any hope after disappointing him with her own ugly suspicions and jealousy.

‘I’ve known that boy from when he was a baby in skirts. I think he certainly holds you in highest regard. He’s been a soldier and not much used to female company and is probably shy too, about his disfigurement. But more than anything he’s loyal and does not readily change his mind.’

Leonora sighed and put her head on Mrs Priddy’s shoulder.

‘Oh, Nanny P, how I long to go home.’

After an early breakfast, Lord Rokeby checked that Captain Ormonde had already departed before all three climbed into the Rokeby chaise. As they settled in their seats he said, ‘This is most irregular that you are not chaperoned, Miss Blythe, but at least I am a close member of your family, which should be protection enough from Society’s censure.’ For propriety’s sake, the men sat together and Charlotte opposite them, still weary from the previous day’s alarms. She was vividly aware of them both but only the most desultory conversation passed between them, so tired were they all, so momentous the things that were in their hearts.

George Lockwood disembarked at the last change of horses at Barnet to reclaim Titan and ride him down the Great North Road back into London. Lord Rokeby and Charlotte at last were alone. As the chaise swung back onto the highway, he crossed to sit beside her. She looked at him, his face pale and drawn, the scar prominent, but she now saw it as an honourable mark of his virtue and valour. He took her hand and said in a low voice. ‘Miss Blythe – Charlotte – I have something to tell you and I can only apologise for not doing so sooner, when I first returned from France.’

Charlotte’s heart started pounding in her breast. She had had enough emotional reversals already; what shock was about to be delivered now? ‘Yes, my lord?’ she said, trying to sound unconcerned.

‘When you were born, your mother and father were very young and did not know what to do for the best.’

‘Being given to Mama Mildmay and the Reverend to be cared for was the best. I could not have been more loved.’

‘I’m very grateful that that was the case. But my brother Charles and I also made a pact that we swore to keep until death. To protect me from our father’s wrath, Charles said he would claim that you were his.’

His face was anguished, and Charlotte’s eyes widened as the full import of his words settled into her consciousness. ‘You mean that you are my father?’

‘I am.’

‘You’re not dead?’ Her voice was full of wonder.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said with a rueful expression.

‘So I have a real father, someone I can get to know and love?’

He nodded as she threw herself into his arms with a cry. ‘I cannot believe that my father has been restored to me. That he is real!’ She held him tight against her as if to reassure herself of his bodily presence.

Lord Rokeby was so prepared for hysterics, blame and rejection that he was completely taken aback at her uncomplicated joy at having a real flesh and blood father at last. After initial hesitancy, he hugged her as forcefully as she did him, and they were locked in each other’s embrace for a few minutes as the chaise passed on through Highgate and down the hill to Hampstead village. When he extracted himself from her grasp, Alistair Rokeby said, ‘Is there anything you need to ask me?’

‘There’s so much I need to know, but just now I want to sit beside you and let the thought sink in that I am not an orphan.’

‘You are definitely not orphaned.’

‘I can’t wait to tell Leonora my news. I have a father and he is you!’ She grasped his hand, the damaged right one, and held it in hers.

‘Miss Appleby gave you a mooring in your life, did she not?’ Lord Rokeby asked with an anxious frown.

‘She is as close as a sister and was always there. I couldn’t bear it if she moved away.’

Lord Rokeby’s voice surprised her with its urgency. ‘That’s not likely, surely?’

‘If she married, she would move to her husband’s property.’

His face looked pained as he took her arm and asked, ‘Is there anyone she has in mind?’