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He looked disconcerted by her frankness then, recovering his sangfroid, responded in a drawl, ‘Surely, Miss Blythe, you are not so naive as to think we can live by love alone? Indeed, should love even be necessary? I find it quite gets in the way of rational thought. Instead, you’ll find the world revolves around money. I have none, which is really rather a nuisance, and yet you could make us both a good deal happier by sharing what you will have on marriage.’ His striking dark eyes had narrowed with the thought and he said under his breath, ‘In fact, things have come to such a pretty pass that debtors’ prison or exile is my fate.’

Charlotte’s heart plummeted. Here was proof of what she had always feared. It was only her fortune he desired, and he had found the perfect way to blackmail her into giving it to him. She determined she would even marry him, if it came to that, and hope for an annulment. Knowing she must do what had to be done, she was prepared to relinquish her chance of love, and her fortune, in the process. ‘So, what do you propose?’ she asked in the smallest of voices.

Captain Ormonde was suddenly business-like. ‘The medal is being awarded in a week. We have no time to lose. I have hired a coach, ready to leave at daybreak from my lodging. Number twelve, South Audley Street, at the Grosvenor Square end. I’ll be waiting for you at five in the morning.’ His eyes did not leave her face. ‘Bring a portmanteau and don’t tell a soul, otherwise I’ll go straight to the Colonial Office.’

‘Can I trust you, Captain Ormonde?’ Charlotte looked up into his eyes.

He put out a hand. ‘You have my word as an English officer and a gentleman.’ Charlotte was glad he did not ask if he could trust her as she had every intention of being as untrustworthy as it was possible to be. The Rokebys were known for their valour and ability to act righteously, without demur or complaint. Their motto after all was Pietas et Fortitudo, Duty and Courage. How well she intended to live that now.

Charlotte nodded. ‘I will see you tomorrow.’

His charming smile had returned. ‘You also have my word that I will treat you as a gentleman should. I will only take you to my bed once we are married. At the posting inns you will be my sister, to allay any suspicion.’

He tipped his hat to Flora who was feigning deep interest in a neighbouring glass cabinet, then took Charlotte’s gloved hand and kissed it before turning to go.

Having returned from Hookham’s Library, Leonora and Mrs Priddy walked up the front steps of Bucklebury House and into the antique grandeur of the great hall. Leonora was hoping to see Charlotte in the drawing room but only Lady Bucklebury was there in her chair by the fire. ‘My dear, Charlotte has retired to bed looking very peaky.’ Leonora started as if to go to her but Lady Bucklebury put a hand out. ‘Flora is with her. She has been a godsend to us with Amy so indisposed, but now Amy’s recovered, Flora will be able to leave tomorrow. I know dear Lady Dundas is missing her.’ She looked intently at Leonora. ‘I hope you are well?’

‘Lady Bucklebury, thank you, I’m feeling well, just a little tired. I hope you are not too fatigued by having us here?’

The Countess patted the sofa beside her. ‘Come, sit. You and Charlotte have added a great deal of interest to my days. I find my painful limbs are eased when I have news of your lives to entertain me. I like to hear the piano-forte played by you both, too.’ She then turned to Leonora. ‘Tell me, Miss Appleby, is there any young gallant who has captured Charlotte’s regard?’

Leonora was unprepared for the question and not wishing to confide too much of Charlotte’s affairs, tried to be truthful but vague. ‘There are several young men but I’m not certain whether she returns their interest.’

‘I hope she’s not being too particular. Young gals today talk of love. How jingle-brained they are!’ She looked pensively into the fire. ‘That other relation I’d like to see settled is my wayward grandson. He’s returning to the country soon.’ Lady Bucklebury’s bird-bright eyes were on Leonora, who attempted to erase any reaction from her expression. Lady Bucklebury put down her embroidery. ‘I wish that obstinate boy would settle the succession and beget himself an heir. I know his ruined looks and stormy character make him a challenging choice for a delicately nurtured young woman.’ She picked up her canvas again and started stabbing her needle in and out of the fabric, creating a colourful representation in wool of a soaring fish eagle, a salmon in its talons. She continued, ‘But now his brother is dead, Alistair is the head of an ancient and noble family, has the Abbey and all those valuable acres. It’s not such a bad bargain, I should think?’ Her wrinkled old face broke into a smile that combined pride and mischief as once again she caught Leonora’s eye.

For the first time Leonora wondered if grandmother and grandson were not more alike than she had first thought. She excused herself, mounted the stairs and knocked on Charlotte’s door. Entering, she found the curtains half-drawn and Charlotte propped up in bed, looking pale and rather distraught. ‘My dear Lottie, what’s caused this?’ Leonora took her hand and perched on the edge of the bed.

Charlotte was as evasive as Leonora had been with Lady Bucklebury and it puzzled her to find her young friend so uneasy. ‘Has something happened on your walk, or at the museum?’

‘No, no. The museum was fascinating. So full of improbable things. There’s even a mermaid!’

‘Yes, I’ve heard about that. I think it most likely remains an improbable thing.’ Leonora laughed and was relieved to see Charlotte smile.

‘I’m just inordinately tired. I think too much excitement.’

‘Well, our noble hostess has been asking me about your gentlemen admirers.’ Leonora saw Charlotte’s startled expression and put out a reassuring hand. ‘Don’t worry, I was as discreet as I could be.’ When Charlotte had relaxed back into the pillows, she continued, ‘Do you wish to tell me anything about your feelings for Mr Lockwood and Captain Ormonde, or indeed Lord Dearlove?’

Charlotte shook her head, a flush creeping up her fair skin. ‘I’m truly confused. If I were just plain Charlotte Blythe, I would be amazed and delighted if a gentleman like Mr Lockwood showed an interest in me. But now I am part of an eminent family, I feel I have to act for the family’s benefit rather than just for my own.’ Her voice tailed off.

‘Lottie!’ Leonora’s voice was urgent. ‘Just because you now know who your father was does not mean you must deny your own wishes and compromise your happiness. Don’t try and please some imaginary arbiter of noble behaviour!’

Charlotte’s eyes were bright with tears and she looked away. In a quiet voice she said, ‘What of you, Leonora? I think you are in love?’ She had been bold in saying such a thing and gave the older woman a shy glance.

‘Perhaps I am, but it is of little consequence. Love needs to be returned for it to matter.’

‘No, no! How can you say so? You of all people deserve happiness. You’re as generous and beautiful as the sun. None of us could live without your warmth.’

‘Oh, Lottie.’ Leonora felt unexpectedly tearful herself. ‘That means much to me, but I’m not certain anyone other than Nanny P and you would agree.’

Charlotte turned serious, her eyes sad in a pale face. ‘If I should do anything that shocks you, I hope you’ll know it’s because I am only trying to do the right thing.’

Leonora wanted to ask her what she meant but as Charlotte turned her back and rolled onto her side, Leonora knew she did not wish to pursue the subject further. Bending over her, she kissed her cheek. ‘Dearest, sleep well. And if there’s any way I can help, please don’t hesitate to ask. I love you as a sister and only want what’s best for you.’ She heard a small intake of breath, perhaps a sob, and Charlotte’s hand sought hers amongst the folds of the coverlet.

Charlotte could not sleep. Her nerves were strung out with anxiety, not least about having to rise before dawn. She lay amongst her tumbled bedclothes counting the chimes as the clock in the hall struck the hours. She was not certain that what she intended to do was right, but she felt honour-bound to try and get that incriminating piece of paper from Captain Ormonde, at any cost to herself. Most distressing of all was the thought that she was deceiving Leonora. Charlotte had not even begun to consider the enormity of the change in her life if she actually had to marry Captain Ormonde in order to protect her father’s reputation. It was a future she could not comprehend and would not consider. Instead, she tried to plan.

She had packed a minimum of clothes and was taking her whole allowance with her so she could pay for a carriage to bring her back to London once she had stolen and destroyed the evidence. Drawing back one curtain so she could watch the darkest hours of night recede, at last she saw the sky grow luminous beyond the trees and rooftops.

She dressed hurriedly, twisted her hair into a loose chignon and tied an everyday bonnet on her head. Her portmanteau was not heavy and she tiptoed down the staircase, careful to avoid the creaking floorboards. Barely able to see in the half-light, she reached the great hallway and slowly eased back the bolts on the front door. Birdsong and the fresh air of morning met her as she stepped into the street. Already the occasional cart was rumbling over the rutted road, horses’ hooves clopped and delivery boys clattered down the front steps to the kitchen basements, carrying their deliveries of firewood and vegetables from the country.