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Having heard him speak, she knew she had to talk in the ‘proper’ way she had learned as a child and answered carefully. ‘Only my head. But I’ve known worse.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Eliza.’

‘Eliza what?’

Fear clutched at her heart. If she told him the truth of where she had come from, she would be escorted back to the circus. In a moment of clarity, Eliza realised she had to pretend she could not recall anything, apart from her given name.

The gentleman, watching her hold her head, waited and she answered haltingly, with a catch in her voice, ‘I can’t remember.’

He responded in his sardonic way, ‘I shall call you Miss Mysterious until you do.’ Eliza struggled to sit and he extended a hand, so warm to her frozen touch. ‘Do you recollect where you may have come from, or where you were going?’

‘I don’t know,’ she muttered, aware of how many lies she now had to tell. Looking up, she asked, ‘What is your name, sir?’

Lord Purfoy hesitated. ‘Purfoy. Lord Purfoy,’ he said, his languor returned, ‘and this is Taz, my tiger.’

Eliza was shocked. She had never been this close to a member of the nobility before. Callow young scions of noble families gathered after the show in the hopes of wheedling a kiss, but she always gave them short shrift. This man was so much more distinguished and she turned her head away, embarrassed by the social gulf between them.

Then she glanced across at Taz to see a face that was comfortingly familiar to her. There were circus folk who worked with the animals who had the same dark weathered skin and bright, questing eyes that missed nothing. Eliza felt entirely at home in this man’s company. His manner towards her too seemed to soften. ‘Ye a lucky lass not to be more out of sorts. That ’ead’ll need seeing to but no limbs are broken, thank the devil!’ He spat into the gutter.

Taz had collected her valise from the road and picked up Mr Fox. Eliza had not realised he had flown out of her pocket in the collision and her heart turned over at the thought she might have lost him. She grasped the small creature and pressed it to her cheek, the only connection with her old life, so distant in time and now no more than a fragment of a dream.

She saw Taz show his master her map which he’d found crumpled on the road, and watched the two men frown as the smaller stuffed it into his pocket.

Lord Purfoy asked her, ‘Do you have any memory of your family?’

Eliza shook her head. ‘Mr Fox is the only family I have.’ When his lordship looked nonplussed, Taz explained it was the toy he had retrieved from the road and Eliza interrupted firmly, ‘He’s not a toy, he’s my family and been with me all my life.’ She realised how much she had revealed in that comment but consoled herself that she was only concealing her recent past. Her loss of memory was only half a lie as she had little idea of what had come before the circus, and had never known her true identity. Neither man, however, seemed to have realised this slip-up in her story, so exercised were they with the present conundrum of where she might belong.

‘Is there anywhere you’d like me to deliver you?’ Lord Purfoy sounded concerned.

Eliza was uncertain and said in a hesitant voice, ‘I did have a map with an address and the name of a lady who might give me work.’

Lord Purfoy ignored this and said to Taz, ‘I can only think that Mrs Wolfe would be the person to know best how to proceed.’ He offered his hand to help Eliza to her feet. ‘Miss Mysterious, let’s get you off the street.’ She stood unsteadily. ‘I will have to take you somewhere safe until your memory returns.’

Taz helped her up into the curricle as Raven Purfoy sprang into the driving seat, miraculously returned to cold sobriety by the crisis. He gazed with some anxiety at the young woman beside him, her head drooping. ‘Taz, sit up here and make sure Miss Mysterious does not slip off the seat.’

Taz barely took up any space, so diminutive and lean was his frame, but he put his arm around Eliza’s shoulder to hold her upright. Everything about him seemed reassuringly familiar. ‘You smell of horses,’ she murmured.

‘That I do. The best prancers in London.’ Taz’s voice was proud and emphatic.

‘I think it the sweetest smell in the world.’ Eliza’s response was quiet but both men heard and exchanged surprised glances. Neither had ever met any woman who would agree with her. Taz felt a certain respect for a female who obviously loved horses too, and Raven Purfoy looked closely at this grimy girl sitting beside him, suspecting there was much more to her than met the eye.

They were bowling through the dark streets and Eliza was doubtful about where they were headed, but in the sinewy grasp of this small man, she felt secure. The horses too were the most perfectly matched pair she had ever seen, their elegant heads held with grace and their fast trot, synchronised and swift. Eliza decided these men understood and loved their prancers. In her experience, such men were inherently good. She noticed that Lord Purfoy seemed entirely in control of his pair of greys, holding the reins lightly in his gloved hands.

He turned to look at her and said, ‘So, Miss Mysterious, what induced you to scamper about the streets well past midnight, throwing yourself in harm’s way? Rather foolhardy, don’t you think?’ Before she could answer, his fine-boned face was enlivened with a knowing smile. ‘Oh, I forgot! Since being cracked in the crown, you can’t remember!’ His mischievous look made Eliza wonder if he believed her story at all.

She did not think all the blame lay with her and answered with some indignation, ‘Sir, if you’d been driving less recklessly, I wouldn’t now be sitting here with a bloodied head.’

Eliza felt Taz’s chuckle deep in his chest. They were so closely packed on the front seat built for two that she was aware of the warmth of the bodies of very different men squeezed on either side of her.

Lord Purfoy did not care to have his driving skills questioned and responded sharply, ‘Pert miss! If I hadn’t run you over, you’d by now be in the toils of Mistress Burridge and her sort. You have me to thank for evading that fate!’

‘How do you know I was on my way to Mistress Burridge? She was to help me find a position as a maid.’

‘That may have been your idea, but I fear such innocent employment is not Burridge’s forte.’

Eliza’s growing sense of ease evaporated as once more a sense of foreboding took hold. ‘Well, where are you taking me? I’ll need to find employment in order to live.’