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The large Wolfe travelling coach was pulled up outside the house at seven in the morning.

They had a long three days’ travelling ahead of them and needed to start early to take advantage of the daylight.

Eliza had packed a couple of evening gowns for the soirées Corinna had warned her they would attend together, with a selection of day dresses, pelisses and bonnets, and a warm redingote borrowed from her hostess.

Eliza climbed in and sat with Polly and Emma’s nurse, Meg, on one seat while Zadoc Flynn settled in opposite.

Corinna handed Emma to Meg then turned to her husband.

He took her into his arms in a fierce embrace.

‘Take greatest care of yourself and our children, my darling.’

Corinna slipped her hands under his coat and feeling the muscles in his back tense, she pulled him to her as she lifted her face for a fleeting kiss on the lips.

Even as a married couple they had to maintain decorum in public.

‘Alick, keep safe for me. My heart belongs to you who knows it best,’ she murmured into his neck, then quickly extricated herself from his arms and climbed into the coach to sit next to Mr Flynn.

Eliza noticed Corinna’s eyes were bright with unshed tears and realised with a jolt how much she longed to feel that same intense connection with another, and could never practise Miss Fairley’s reasonable stoicism.

If even in the end her soul had to travel alone through the world, Eliza hoped, just once in her life, to experience this intense fire.

The coach moved off and Eliza was filled with excitement at travelling out of London in some comfort.

Prebbles Flying Circus occasionally moved its entourage of performers and animals to another city but the travelling was painfully slow and uncomfortable; Eliza and Rose were usually despatched via the public stagecoach with the cheapest tickets which meant sitting on the roof, precarious and frozen to the bone.

Here she was in a comfortable coach with fur blankets on the floor and heated bricks under their feet and in the most congenial company.

It was astonishing to consider how fundamentally life had changed for her, but unsettling too that this could only be a transition to something she had yet to know.

She glanced across at Zadoc Flynn who was keen with anticipation, his guidebook open in his hand. ‘I shall buy a bottle of medicinal water from Bath to take home as a souvenir. My father suffers from the gout,’ he said, reading about the distinctive pleasures of the city they were about to explore.

Once they had left Hyde Park Gate behind, London receded as the Wolfe coach headed for the pretty villages of Knightsbridge and Kensington with their cottages and occasional big manor houses, built of brick and surrounded by gardens.

The road was crowded with large wagons filled with produce, alongside racing curricles and flashy phaetons of the young bloods about Town on their way to an illegal boxing match or some other dubious entertainment.

The fast mail coaches sped on their way, overtaking the overladen stagecoaches, creaking while their passengers clung onto the top rails, in peril for their lives and blue with cold.

As they passed the barracks, Eliza peered out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Kensington Palace, aware that the Court retired here amongst the fields and trees for a change of air.

The swaying vehicle had rocked Emma to sleep in her mother’s arms and Meg and Polly were gently snoring too.

Even Corinna’s eyes were fluttering, but Eliza and Mr Flynn were too stimulated by the novelty of travel to even grow drowsy.

They were crossing the flat lands now, filled with orchards and market gardens feeding the expanding population in the great city to the east. As the coach approached Hammersmith, Zadoc Flynn consulted his book and pointed out a quaint roadside tavern with a distinctively high, red-tiled roof.

‘Look, The Red Cow,’ he said then quoted, ‘“Notorious haunt of the lowest of footpads and pickpockets. They passed on information on any rich travellers to the fine-dressed ‘knights of the road’ on their fleet black steeds with horse pistols ready. The coaches were sitting ducks in the bleak heathland to the west.” Hide your jewellery, Miss Gray.’

‘Luckily I have nothing worth stealing but my virtue!’ she retorted with a self-deprecating laugh.

‘That’s priceless indeed. I’m going to have to lay my life down to protect you!

’ He reached up to where a holster swung above his head, checking to see if it contained a pistol and shot.

His fingers closed around cold steel. ‘This is more a lady’s pistol.

Back home we’d have a shotgun.’ He noticed the surprise on Eliza’s face.

‘Our justice is more rough and ready than yours. We shoot first and ask questions later.’

‘In that case I’m relieved you have no shotgun with you, Mr Flynn.’

Casting her a roguish look, he settled down to read his guidebook further.

Eliza thought this was a good time to raise with him what had been exercising her since reading Rose Bowman’s letter.

She hesitated and then in a rush of words, addressed him.

‘Sir, I feel some responsibility for Miss Bowman. Forgive the presumption of asking what your intentions may be towards her.’

He looked up startled and seemed reluctant to answer.

Eventually, he took a breath and said, ‘Your concern is to your credit, Miss Gray. I hope I can reassure you when I say…’ He paused, trying to find the right words.

‘Forgive me for any indelicacy, but Miss Bowman is a young woman who knows her own mind. I assure you it is not me taking advantage of her but rather she determined on her own destiny. She has told me she wants to come to America with me to try her fortune.’

Eliza’s eyes opened wide with astonishment. ‘This is what she has told you?’

‘She has.’

‘And have you agreed?’

‘I suggested she could come with me to my father’s business in New York and work in the offices there, or she could help with managing my stud in Kentucky. But she’s not as keen on horses or as skilled with them as you are.’

Eliza was taken aback by Rose’s boldness but also admiring of her reckless courage and sense of adventure.

Her anxiety about Rose’s vulnerability as a woman without family, status or money, however, was not assuaged.

‘I presume this arrangement does not involve marriage?’ Her voice was quiet and her cheeks flamed with embarrassment at her temerity in asking such a thing, but she was concerned that her friend should know exactly the kind of arrangement she was entering.

Zadoc Flynn gazed out at the fertile green fields and answered, ‘No, it does not. But then I don’t think Miss Bowman would wish for that.

Nor is it as important there as it is here.

We are a new country and have not assumed all the constraints of the old.

Irregular arrangements between men and women are not as disadvantageous for the women as you may fear. ’

‘You would, nevertheless, be responsible for her until she has found work and determined how she wishes to live.’

It was Mr Flynn’s turn to colour with embarrassment.

‘Of course! What kind of brute do you think me? I have the benefit of my father’s successful business and my own efforts and I assure you money is no problem.

Miss Bowman will want for nothing while she establishes her new life.

’ He was watching her closely as she processed this astonishing change about to happen in her friend’s life.

Everyone in the carriage was still asleep as Mr Flynn leaned forward and took Eliza’s hand, his face serious.

‘Miss Gray, my country offers infinite possibilities for men and women alike, regardless of breeding or wealth. I may not be about to offer for Miss Bowman’s hand but you are a different matter.

I share your love of horses, I find your personal attractions unsettling.

I would be honoured if you would consider accompanying me home to America as my wife. ’

Eliza was astounded. She snatched back her hand and in a fierce whisper said, ‘Mr Flynn! I could not object more to your mentioning in the same breath that you’re happy to take my friend as your mistress but would consider marrying me!

If this is an example of the manners and sensibilities of your countrymen, I want nothing to do with them. ’

Mr Flynn’s usually genial manner turned mulish.

Aware of their sleeping companions, his voice was quiet and emphatic.

‘I’m not a practised flatterer like the trifling dandies and men of the Town in your country, but a plain speaker and an honest one.

My father is the richest man in New York and I’m wealthy in my own right, healthy, hard-working and of good temper. ’

‘Marriage is not like horse-trading, sir! Am I now meant to inspect your teeth? And anyway, this is hardly the place for such a conversation.’