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‘You do.’ Sybella was grave. ‘I don’t think it would be fair when he loves you as he does, to keep him in the dark about something so momentous. You have risked your life, my lord, and you’ve been reprieved.’

‘I know, I will never forget what my friends have done for me. Freddie, I must get some blunt to repay you. How many guineas did you hand over to the Bow Street Horse fund?’

‘It was more Ant’s gaming guineas. And I fear I will have to tell him too. You don’t mind, do you, Val? Despite his disapproval of me, he’s hellish fine, you know, a true Corinthian, the best to get anyone out of any fix. I must say, though, I’m rather gratified that we managed this almost insurmountable threat without his help.’ His face quickly lit up with a triumphant grin.

That true Corinthian was on his way back to London, a day early. He drove his curricle into Grosvenor Square just as the two young lords were returning from their late breakfast in Green Street. ‘Ant!’ Lord Lynwood hailed his guardian with some trepidation. ‘We weren’t expecting you so soon.’

‘That sounds ominous,’ Brabazon said drily as he sprung down, leaving his horses to John. ‘What awaits me? While the guardian’s away, his ward will play, eh?’

‘Not at all. Val’s just off to see his father across the square. Can I join you for some refreshment?’

They walked together into the grand hallway. ‘I must just wash away the dust of the road and change my clothes. I’ll be down in an hour or so.’ The hour passed peacefully enough as Lord Lynwood relaxed and let some of the tension of the morning drain from his limbs.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ Anthony Brabazon had rejoined him and glanced across at his handsome young ward, lounging in his own chair in the library and looking quite hollowed out.

‘I’ll have an ale, if you have it. Thanks, Ant.’

He carried a glass to Lord Lynwood and sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘Now, tell me what you and that naughty, wayward friend of yours have been up to. When I drove up, I’ve never seen a guiltier pair of faces in my life.’

Lord Lynwood groaned, then thought it best to tackle the news head on. ‘I’m afraid Val was arrested last night.’

‘What for? Debts? Brawling while beastly drunk?’

‘No, the worst.’

‘Damnation! Poor Val. Was he picked up at that new club? You weren’t with him, were you?’ Brabazon’s voice was calm.

‘No! You know he wouldn’t let me near that devilish place. Anyway, you should understand by now it’s not my scene of things.’

‘By God, it’s a dangerous world he moves in!’ Mr Brabazon’s brow darkened.

‘I know, but it’s so wrong, Ant.’ Lord Lynwood’s face was contorted with anguish about the unfairness of the world. ‘Val is the best man I know. Everyone loves him. He hasn’t an evil bone in his body.’

‘We all have bad bones in our bodies, Freddie, but I allow that Val is no worse and probably better than most of us.’

His unruffled manner contrasted vividly with the passionate delivery of his ward’s. ‘But for him to face the death sentence! It’s odious. It’s so wrong. If he was a Frenchman or Italian, he would be safe from such viciousness.’

‘I know, Freddie, but if he lives here, he has to live with our laws, however cruel or crack-brained we might think them.’ Mr Brabazon topped up their glasses.

‘You know, Ant, about two years ago I was walking to my club through the Haymarket when they put in stocks those they’d arrested at the White Swan in Vere Street. The mob was utterly terrifying. They’d almost killed the accused with their assaults and the missiles they’d thrown. Eventually one man and a boy were hanged.’ Lord Lynwood’s head fell into his hands. ‘He was only sixteen years old, a drummer boy.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘This morning I remembered what I’d witnessed and was so frightened for Val. I missed you, Ant. You would have known what could be done. You always do.’

‘I don’t know if that’s true. It’s a devilish mess. But you’ve obviously managed very well on your own. How did you spring Valentine from the clink? I’m intrigued.’

‘I plundered your pleasure fund.’ Despite his exhaustion, Lord Lynwood smiled his wolfish smile.

‘You did, did you? How much?’

‘About eighty spankers of yours. Sold my watch and fob for another eighteen.’

‘Well, that’s quite a bit of blunt, my boy!’

‘But the real thing that swung it was an idea of Lucie’s. She told the constables she was Val’s betrothed!’

‘You mean you took her with you to Bow Street? Freddie!’ Mr Brabazon’s heavy-lidded eyes suddenly looked intently at his ward.

‘I couldn’t stop her. And she utterly charmed the burly Runners. She even sobbed on Val’s breast! It was very affecting.’

A smile played on Mr Brabazon’s thin lips. ‘And does her sister know that this betrothal is on the cards?’