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Eliza felt similarly riled. ‘No, I do not. But it is a poor way to repay him his kindness to me.’

Zadoc Flynn snorted. ‘What kindness? In running you over and cracking your crown? You owe him nothing and you owe me the value of your word. I cannot take Ohio back to Kentucky as a brood mare of the highest quality without winning a place in a Blue Riband horse race in the old country.’

Eliza felt her chest tighten with a knot of panic. ‘You didn’t mention she had to be placed in the race. I thought she just had to compete and we could come in last.’

‘No, fourth, or at a pinch fifth, is the minimum that will be registered.’

‘But there is little chance I could ride Ohio to such a placing and not be noticed by Lord Purfoy. I can’t risk it.’

Mr Flynn turned steely in a way Eliza had not seen before. ‘So with a belated missish sensibility, you are prepared to go back on your word and rob Ohio of her chance of glory?’

This appeal to her respect for the mare and the horse’s celebrated future in America did catch at Eliza’s heart. She did not want to be the reason for Ohio’s failure in her new role as the mother of the next generation of Kentucky racehorses. She was aware her ramrod spine was beginning to buckle. This was something she would have to follow to the end, with the minimum of fuss. ‘All I ask then, when the race is over, is that you help horse and rider to disappear into the crowd. If you promise you’ll whisk Ohio and me away so no one properly sees us, then I’ll ride her. But, Mr Flynn, you have to protect my anonymity.’

Zadoc Flynn took her hand and with a gentle voice said, ‘If you married me, Miss Gray, you wouldn’t have to worry about your reputation, or Lord Purfoy, or anyone. You’d have a stable yard of beautiful horses to ride and everything you could possibly desire. The offer is still there, should you change your mind.’

Eliza squeezed his hand. ‘Thank you, Mr Flynn. I don’t disdain your offer at all.’

He turned serious. ‘Leave your riding clothes by my door tonight and I’ll take them to Epsom in the curricle.’

‘Thank you. I’m travelling down with Mr Wolfe and Polly in one of Mr Shilton’s fast chaises. He has so many carriages, and even more horses!’

‘He’s a rich man who loves his bloodstock. As do I.’ He was about to resume his journey up the stairs when he paused. ‘I’ll see you at the racetrack tomorrow. Don’t be alarmed. It will all work out fine.’

Eliza returned to wish goodnight to the friends. She put her head round the door to a scene of fraternal merriment. The men had pushed their chairs back from the table, loosened their neck cloths and were settling down for a night of friendly banter and scurrilous gossip, lubricated by countless glasses of Mr Shilton’s finest alcohol.

They looked up, their expressions sparkling with delight in their own company. Ferdinand Shilton waved. ‘What a charming flower is come amongst us!’

‘Goodnight, gentlemen. I will see you in the morning.’

Lord Purfoy looked more relaxed than usual, his eyes glittering and cheekbones flushed. He met her eyes and murmured to the puzzlement of his friends:

She bowed her head, and turned her to depart,

And noiseless as a lovely dream is gone.

And was she here? And is he now alone?

Eliza felt her heart leap in recognition of their private understanding, for this was Byron’s corsair addressing his saviour, Gulnare, prepared to risk her life for his. Then Eliza did in fact bow her head, but it was in shameful acknowledgement that she was risking her life not for the man she loved, but to fulfil another man’s ambitions, and in the process she was betraying her own hero’s trust and belief in her. She too turned to depart, her eyelids stinging with tears.

As Eliza was climbing wearily to her room, Polly emerged through the door. ‘Oh Miss Gray, I’ve just left you a pitcher of water. Do you need help with undressing?’ She nodded and Polly returned to unbutton her dress and unlace her stays. ‘Polly, please accompany me to the Epsom races tomorrow. We’ll go with Mr Wolfe.’

Polly’s face lit up. She had a liking for Davey, the Wolfes’ groom, and an outing to the races was well known as a time of jollity and bacchanalian revelry; they would be able to grasp a short time together to visit the stalls selling gewgaws and various drinks and foodstuffs.

After a quick wash, Eliza slipped into her nightdress and climbed into bed, so tired she hoped to fall asleep without delay. But her mind was filled with contradictory emotions and fear. Not even Mr Fox could settle her unease. He sat on the table by her bed and in the moonlight, one of his beady eyes glinted as if he were watching over her, but admonishing her for what she had agreed to do; for once his guardianship did not soothe her qualms as it had through the years.

As sleep came at last, her waking fears became a series of fragmentary dreams; she was the girl who was prepared to kill to save a corsair from death but he seemed to have assumed the dark good looks of her own lord; she was falling under the hooves of galloping horses, one black like Horatio, one white like Davenport’s Eros. She was caught in a vortex of faces and voices with no way out.

Eliza was dragged from troubled sleep by Polly’s knock on the door. Struggling to sit up, she looked towards the window where the early sun was slanting through the curtains, promising a fine day. As Polly walked to the dressing room to sort out her clothes, Eliza felt it was time to confide in her. ‘Polly, can you keep a secret?’

‘Oh yes, miss.’ The young maid’s blue eyes opened wide with excited anticipation.

‘I’ve agreed to be the jockey on Mr Flynn’s horse for the main race today.’

Polly’s cheeks flushed at the mention of such scandalous derring-do. ‘That’s a brave lark, miss!’

Eliza told her firmly, ‘No one knows but you and me and Mr Flynn. You have to keep it to yourself, Polly. I am not proud of deceiving others but I had promised to help Mr Flynn’s new mare race to third or fourth place so he can take her to America to establish a new bloodstock line.’ These treacherous words sounded to Eliza quite reasonable in her desperation to minimise the plan’s potential for disaster.

As Polly picked up a day dress, Eliza said, ‘I’m going to have to change discreetly in a stable so luckily that gown has buttons I can reach.’ Eliza also determined she would abandon her stays and just wear a spencer over her dress to disguise her lack of support.