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Lord Purfoy saluted his friend then he turned to Eliza, his austere features softened with humour and a strange tenderness. She wondered if it was thoughts of Corinna or herself that wrought this change in him. He took her hand lightly in his and she felt the thrill of his cool touch. As if there were nothing between them, he said, ‘Miss Gray, I’m pleased you will be joining us at Epsom. I promise it’ll be a day to remember.’ And without further ado, he was gone, and the energy in the room settled back into predictable comfort.
Mr Flynn expostulated, ‘Alick, how can you countenance him treating Mrs Wolfe with such familiarity?’
Alick chuckled. ‘We are old friends and he knows Corinna well. He means no harm. It is his way of complimenting her and flattering me. I know where my wife’s heart lies.’ He looked across at Corinna with a warm gaze.
Zadoc Flynn was a different kind of man and could not see what Lord Purfoy’s friends appreciated in this elegant, haughty aristocrat. He too was privileged with everything that great wealth bestowed, but the Flynn fortune had been ruthlessly wrested by his father from the emerging industries of a new republic, and now consolidated by his son. The Purfoy millions were deeply rooted in the mists of time: ancestral lands awarded by the great King Henry for extreme valour fighting the French, nearly three hundred years before. So it was that Zadoc Flynn looked at Lord Purfoy and saw a man with an unattainable sheen of sophisticated confidence and elegant sangfroid who did nothing but race his horses, gamble and drink with his cronies, while Lord Purfoy considered Zadoc Flynn an uncouth adventurer whose recent fortune could not gloss the fact he had barely strayed from his uncultured roots.
The Wolfe cook was famous for her plum pudding and it was brought to the table still tied tight in the linen cloth in which it had been boiled. Corinna unwrapped it with ceremony and started to carve the ball into segments which she placed on plates that were passed around, accompanied by the sauce boat filled with a mixture of butter and brandy. Zadoc Flynn looked down at the slice of bready mass mottled with raisins and said, ‘English plum pudding has a reputation abroad. I’m delighted to be able to report back to my family that I’ve eaten of the pudding that made England great!’
Eliza took a spoonful and it lay heavy on her anxious stomach. Noticing her pallor, Ferdinand Shilton said in his cheering way, ‘I think you’ll like Nonsuch, Miss Gray. I’ve asked that the Queen’s bedroom be made ready for you. It’s called thus because it was my mother’s. It’s very pretty with a lovely view of the Nonsuch parkland and the distant Downs.’
Eliza smiled at him. Mr Shilton was the kindest of men, without a shadow on his soul. His wealth and angelic looks had awarded him a charmed life through which he moved on winged feet. ‘Thank you. I’ve never been to the races before.’ Her voice trailed off as she realised that when she was young, the Prebbles had taken their circus to Epsom Downs for the Derby fair, one of the most riotous days of the year. It all seemed so long ago and she was tired, and happy to withdraw with Corinna and leave the men to their brandy.
Corinna was on her way to check on Emma when she put out a hand to waylay Eliza. ‘My dear, may I have a quick word?’ She led her into her studio and closed the door. ‘I do not wish to pry but I have affection for both you and Raven Purfoy.’ She met Eliza’s eyes with her own concerned gaze before continuing, ‘He has endured some great tragedy in his life. His heart is neither as cold nor as armoured as he may like it to seem. I haven’t known him this emotional and vulnerable to wounding before. Take care, dear Miss Gray, I fear you don’t know your power.’
Eliza looked at her, startled. ‘I would never seek to wound Lord Purfoy. He is the only man I have ever loved. I knew this from the first moment I saw him.’
Corinna nodded, an anxious frown still on her face. ‘I understand your sentiment entirely. That first recognition of love is irresistible. But it’s not always what’s best for us, you know.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Mr Flynn has told me that he has asked you to marry him and accompany him to New York?’
Eliza’s answer was emphatic. ‘And I have told him I cannot agree.’
‘Are you sure? He’s a good man, and with little family to detain you here you would have a comfortable life, an adventurous life in America – and you are an adventurous spirit and full of courage. You should be proud of how you set out alone to make your way in a world too often harsh and hostile to a young woman such as you.’
‘Why do you want me to consider him, Mrs Wolfe, when you surmise Lord Purfoy might return my affections?’
Corinna coloured at the direct question. ‘You’re right, it seems contradictory of me when I want Raven Purfoy to be happy. It’s just he’s a complicated man and perhaps not easy to love. Whereas Zadoc Flynn is plain-woven and as regular as they come, with a happy gift for optimism.’
Eliza felt a rush of affection for Corinna. She recognised she had a maternal concern for her happiness too. So rare was this in her life, it touched her heart. She put a hand out and grasped Corinna’s. ‘I know Lord Purfoy is difficult; perhaps with the sensitivities of a thoroughbred, he’ll rear up, throw me off and bolt. But when someone has captured your soul, how can you give it to another? I am prepared for the challenges.’ She coloured at the thought that she even had a chance. ‘Anyway, I’m skilled at handling high-bred stallions.’ She met Corinna’s eyes and they both laughed.
‘Well I’d rather it be you with that particular tricky beast than me,’ Corinna said, still smiling. ‘I’m very happy to have a steady prancer in my dearest Mr Wolfe.’ She kissed Eliza on the cheek. ‘Sleep well. I must check that Emma is still peaceful. You see, responsibilities rather militate against the kind of transcendent passion you would live by.’ And with that, she turned and ran up the stairs to the nursery.
At last Eliza could climb into bed and sleep. Her candle illuminated with a flickering light the two portraits of her parents on the table beside her and she gazed at them in turn, wondering how strangers could be so imbued with emotion that they seemed completely familiar, as if she had known them for ever. Mr Fox, who had accompanied her through life, sat faded yet alert between them, his beady black eyes seeming to twinkle in the guttering flame. She lay down on the mound of pillows and placed her hand on all three symbols of her family and gave a silent prayer. Help me, dear God, to do best what must be done. She blew out the candle and within minutes was asleep.
The next morning the household was up early. Everyone but Corinna was travelling to Mr Shilton’s house that day and there was a festive atmosphere. Lord Purfoy had elected to drive his racing curricle for the sheer pleasure of it, with Taz up behind him organising the tolls on the way. Ferdinand Shilton, Alick Wolfe, Zadoc Flynn and Eliza and Polly were sharing the legendary Shilton travelling coach. When it drew up in stately splendour outside the Wolfes’ house, Eliza happened to be gazing out of the window. She gasped at the sight of the vast glossy carriage, shaped like a boat and still swaying, even once the wheels had stopped moving, so deep were its springs. It was drawn by a team of six beautiful, matched bay horses with a postilion riding on the lead horse. Despite her anxieties about her duplicitous role in what was to come, Eliza felt her own spirits rise. An adventure was about to begin!
Mr Flynn and Alick Wolfe climbed into the ship first, carrying a barley scone each and a flask of brandy. Their valets had travelled ahead in Lord Purfoy’s chaise with their masters’ luggage. Polly accompanied Eliza in a show of decorum as she was sharing the carriage with three men. The women climbed in and settled themselves in the extravagantly padded and buttoned interior. ‘I’ve never seen such a grand conveyance!’ Eliza said, stroking the emerald green satin. ‘Mr Shilton truly knows how to travel in comfort and style. I almost expect him to have outriders blowing their horns.’ She laughed with the ludicrous pleasure of such ostentatious luxury.
Zadoc Flynn looked at her quizzically and said, ‘I wonder if I should order myself such a carriage. It would certainly create a stir back home.’
Ferdinand Shilton lived just a stroll away and had yet to arrive. His coachman was on the driving seat ready to go, with the Shilton valet beside him. All awaited their master.
Alick grumbled, ‘It’s not like Ferdy to be late. Rav, yes, but Ferdy’s so punctual.’
Just at that moment a cheerful if rather pale face appeared at the window. ‘Apologies, ladies.’ Mr Shilton climbed in and settled himself between Alick and Mr Flynn. He lifted his silver-topped cane and rapped on the roof and the great equipage moved off, much to the excitement of two small boys who were passing with their hoops and stopped to watch, faces agog.
‘Ferdy, you look a trifle haggard. Did you overdo it at the club last night?’ Alick had placed a hand on his friend’s knee. Eliza had never seen Mr Shilton look less than rosy with health and bonhomie and he did indeed appear pale and fragile, with shadows under his eyes.
Ferdinand Shilton yawned and answered his friend, ‘Kind of you to be concerned, Al, but I was first of all at Lady Ogbourne’s rout in Berkeley Square. Such a dull affair. But the night was much improved by bumping into your sister, Miss Gray.’
Eliza looked across at him, surprised and pleased that Miss Fairley should publicly claim their connection. ‘I’m surprised she was there. She professes to disdain such society gatherings.’
‘Well, she certainly looked pretty unimpressed. She was reading a book in the window embrasure. Miss Fairley was most amusing, relating stories on the dizzy-eyed matrons and their artless daughters, clustering round the few eligible men.’
Eliza laughed. ‘She’s suffered through three Seasons and no doubt recognises the type.’
Zadoc Flynn was slouched half asleep in the corner of the coach. He stirred to add with a snort of derision, ‘What I’ve seen of the London Season is a damn sight more entertaining than the social scene in New York. Prettier women too.’ His eyes met Eliza’s before she looked away.
Ferdinand Shilton interrupted with a laugh. ‘Don’t go judging all English women by the example of Miss Gray. As her sister said to me, she’s the ne plus ultra of feminine beauty. After she’d explained that she meant the peak of feminine beauty, I could only agree.’
