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Meg and Corinna had taken Emma upstairs to settle her for the night. Zadoc Flynn and Eliza were left alone and after he had piled his plate with meat and bread, he sat down with a tankard of ale. Suddenly aware of her own hunger, Eliza joined him at the table and he carved her some beef. ‘I intend to race Ohio, as you know, and am very keen to try her out at this famous Owners’ Race at Epsom.’

Eliza nodded. ‘Lord Davenport has a beautiful stallion he intends to ride in that same race. I think he has an animus against Lord Purfoy whom he determines to best.’

‘Well, Purfoy on Horatio is the champion. ’Tis a pity he’s so haughty; everyone wants to beat him.’

Eliza sprang to his defence. ‘He’s not haughty! He is just the most skilled horseman with the best mount.’

Mr Flynn was eyeing her shrewdly. ‘As you know, Miss Gray, I’m too heavy to ride Ohio in a race. But you could.’

It was the second time since they had set out that he had completely astounded her with a plan. ‘Of course I can’t ride. I am not Ohio’s owner and I’m not a man.’

‘Both of those obstacles can be overcome.’ He was chuckling at his own ingenuity.

Eliza was even more emphatic when she said, ‘And most importantly, there is no way I’d be part of a ruse to deprive Lord Purfoy of his rightful crown.’

‘Oh don’t be so prosy and honourable, Miss Gray. You’re the best rider I know, and you’re lightweight. There’s little doubt in my mind you and Ohio would win.’

Eliza put down her ale glass and said, ‘Well, Mr Flynn, you’ll have to look to someone else.’ She stood up just as Corinna entered and sank, exhausted, into a chair. Eliza picked up a plate and said, ‘Can I collect you something to eat? It’s been such a long day.’

‘I’m so tired I think I’ll retire soon.’ Corinna sighed. ‘At least Emma seems to have recovered. I’m so relieved.’

Both women bade goodnight to Mr Flynn then walked up the stairs to their bedrooms on the second floor. Eliza turned to Corinna. ‘I can’t believe I’m in the same city as my father. I’m so grateful to you for making this possible. I’m sorry it’s been such a tiresome journey for you.’

Corinna laughed. ‘Wait until you’ve met him, my dear. You may not be thanking me then.’

Eliza woke early and contemplated the day ahead. The sounds of the city in the street outside were unlike the sounds of London. The wide thoroughfare of Great Pulteney Street meant carriages were driven faster, so the horses’ hooves sounded rhythmic and the jingling harnesses strangely soothing. The calls of the delivery boys were in a soft West Country brogue. There seemed to be more birdsong. Excitement rippled through her. She felt she was on the brink of a new stage of her life. She was about to meet her father and that thought alone made her heart beat faster. Perhaps once she discovered where she belonged in the world it would help her understand her restlessness and hunger for affection: perhaps it would put her feelings for Lord Purfoy and Mr Flynn’s practical proposal of marriage into better perspective too?

Eliza dressed carefully in a day gown she knew flattered her colouring with its saffron silk twill and smart Cossack spencer in lilac wool to complete the outfit. She examined her appearance in the looking glass and felt such an outfit would protect her from any but the worst buffetings of life. As she was struggling to tame her mane of hair into a tidy bun, Polly tapped on the door and entered to immediately work her magic with plaits and tease her curls. ‘You’re very lucky, Miss Gray, to have such hair. Like an angel, miss.’

‘Thank you, Polly,’ Eliza said demurely but did not add what was in her heart: I wonder whether anyone in my family shares the same hair. She then ran down the stairs in search of some paper and a quill. The desk in the library was the obvious place to start and in the middle drawer she found a pile of creamy paper, some newly cut quills and a small bottle of already mixed black ink. It was difficult to know how to address a man she could not remember ever knowing. Her hand was shaking as she introduced herself, mentioning his cousin Lady Dauntsey, and asking for an audience.

Her signature was more constrained than usual; anxious as she was not to give the Marquess any reason to refuse her, she tried to make herself as unremarkable as possible. Quickly folding the paper, she addressed and sealed it, then handed it to Toby. ‘Would you see that this is delivered to the Marquess of Bathwick at Bathwick Court?’

The young man was keen and talkative. ‘I know the place. Gloomy pile at the end of the road and yon Marquess as tumbledown as his lair. I shall deliver it me’self. Do you need a reply, miss?’

‘Yes please, Toby.’ This longed-for reunion suddenly felt real. To steady her nerves she walked through to the dining room in search of some coffee.

Corinna appeared, her face pale and tired. ‘Oh, coffee. Good,’ she said as Eliza poured her a cup. ‘Emma’s not very well again. I don’t know what might be ailing her.’

Eliza knew that childhood illnesses were dreaded by parents who understood too well how quickly a small body could succumb to infection. ‘I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help you with her?’

Corinna reached for some toast. ‘I’ve left Meg with her and will return after I’ve eaten. But, Eliza, I want you to see something of Bath. Would you take Polly as your chaperone? Perhaps go to The Pump Room?’ She was soon away, anxious to get back to her daughter, just as Mr Flynn walked in. ‘Good morning, Miss Gray. After yesterday’s rain, it’s perfect weather for exploration, don’t you think?’ He poured himself some ale and sat down.

‘I’m probably going with Polly this morning to see what’s so special about The Pump Room,’ she said, glancing out of the window, her nerves on the sharpest of tenterhooks, waiting for the sound of the front door and Toby’s return.

Mr Flynn snorted. ‘I’ll have much more fun; I’m off to the races on Lansdown Hill.’ He looked at Eliza’s tense face and said with a smirk, ‘Well, I fear you’ll find the city but a refuge for the sick in mind and body. If you care for impecunious dowagers and ramshackle profligates who pander to a handful of rich old duchesses, that’s your pleasure.’

Eliza was irritated by his levity and said severely, ‘I don’t believe any guide’s editor would be so disobliging; you’ve made that all up, haven’t you?’

Zadoc Flynn’s spirits were irrepressible. ‘Of course not! It’s true⁠—’

He was interrupted by Eliza jumping to her feet. She had heard the front door close and, excusing herself, dashed to the hall. ‘Oh Toby, you’re back!’

‘Yes, miss. It took a while, the Marquess ain’t the cheeriest of coves. Somethin’ in yer note caused trouble. But here’s the answer.’ He held out a letter with a very grand crest impressed into the red wax.

Eliza returned to the dining room and sat to read the curt response.

Come at four after noon.