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Corinna took off her paint-spattered apron and in exasperation, threw it on the floor.

‘You know, Rav, you have to stop this fantasy of what might have been. I think it’s been an excuse too long for your not committing yourself to another.

’ She walked over to her second easel and whisked away the cloth covering the painting.

Illuminated in the sparkling morning light was her portrait of Eliza Gray, beautiful, mysterious, full of emotion.

Caught unawares, Lord Purfoy could hardly breathe.

He was mesmerised once again by those eyes, seeming almost alive in their vivid soulfulness.

‘Corinna! I didn’t know it was still here. Can I have it?’ He was shocked to hear himself asking for such a memento.

‘Yes, until Miss Gray has a home for it.’

He had approached to stand before the portrait, meeting Eliza’s gaze, and for a moment he was overcome.

Corinna said very quietly, ‘You lost me to Alick through procrastination and nicety of feeling, don’t lose Eliza Gray to Zadoc Flynn in the same way.’

This electrified him. He whirled round. ‘What? What on earth makes you say that?’

‘Well, he’s asked her to marry him and intends to take her back to America with him. And you’ll never see her again.’

Lord Purfoy was pacing to relieve his feelings. ‘How dare he! He’s nowhere near good enough for her.’

‘That may well be, Rav, but what’s the saying, Faint heart ne’er won fair lady? ’

Colour flared into his pale cheeks and he looked dangerous as his eyes blazed. ‘My heart is far from faint!’ He was almost shouting. ‘It’s burning like a furnace over which I have lost control.’

Corinna was placidly cleaning her brushes and wrapping them in paper. ‘Well, give up control then. What’s your family’s famous motto?’

He turned to face her and said, ‘ Audaci Venus ut Fortuna favet.’

‘Remind me of the translation, my lord,’ she said sweetly.

‘Venus, like Fortune, favours the bold,’ he answered through gritted teeth.

‘Well, it strikes me the Purfoys knew a thing or two.’ And she laughed.

‘Where is she now?’ He flung out the question as if it were a challenge.

‘She’s back working as a rider at the circus.’

Again Lord Purfoy was overwhelmed with unaccustomed emotion and burst out, ‘What? Why? What made her return to that? I thought she was with her sister.’

‘She’s a proud woman and did not want to live on charity, having to ask family and friends for funds even to buy herself toiletries or haberdashery to refurbish her clothes.

Alick and I offered her a home with us, as did her sister, Miss Fairley.

But she said she was not fit to be a lady of leisure and was only trained for one thing. ’

Corinna watched his lordship’s face change from outrage to sorrow to confusion and horror when she added, ‘Mr Flynn returns from Ireland in two days and she may well decide to accept his offer. Her friend at the circus, Rose Bowman, that pretty circus rider Mr Flynn brought to Lady Bassett’s ball, well, she’s already said she’ll travel with him to work in his father’s fur export business. So Miss Gray won’t be alone.’

‘That is a most consoling thought, thank you,’ Lord Purfoy said sarcastically. He was back to pacing the room.

‘Why do you hesitate? You evidently love the girl. We all do. It seems quite straightforward to me.’

‘Of course I love her. There, I’ve said it.

She’s become the sun and moon to me, the only person I long to see.

I fear there is no peace for me except with her.

’ He paced away again, back to the window.

‘But then perhaps I can have no peace, for how can I trust her? Her first words to me were a lie; she obviously had not lost her memory but she kept up the pretence!’

‘Yes! So you wouldn’t return her from whence she’d come.’

‘Then, more heinously she betrays me, on a whim, to please that American clodpole!’

‘Oh Rav, for heaven’s sake, get off your high horse!

You’re just piqued because she beat you.

’ Corinna tried to suppress a smile. ‘She did not betray you on a whim. The decision was hard for her. She had given her word and then could not withdraw.’ Corinna, animated with her own emotion, put out her arms to her friend and hugged him.

‘Loving anyone is painful and fraught with danger, and I know you know that and have paid the price.’ He was so tall she could not meet his eyes but continued talking to his cravat.

‘We all have to plunge into the unknown. But I promise you, through struggle, love grows more precious, and the beloved becomes indispensable, etched into our souls.’ They separated and she met his gaze, softened now.

‘Honour your sister, Rav, and her short, sweet life, by going forward with hope into the future, with another beloved Eliza.’

Lord Purfoy said with a catch in his voice, ‘Alick is blessed to have you as a wife, and I am blessed to call you sister and friend. Thank you.’ He took her hand with its painted fingertips and kissed it before swinging out of the door.

* * *

That evening Lord Purfoy strolled round to the mews where Taz was preparing the horses and curricle for the night’s entertainment.

‘I’m not going to St James’s but to Astley’s.

’ Taz glanced at him with a knowing look.

Lord Purfoy had no intention of letting his tiger congratulate himself on his percipience in any area of his master’s life.

He swung up into the driving seat and drove his special greys towards the east of the city, with Taz perched behind.

The moon hung large and low in the velvet night, spreading its uncanny light over everything.

The buildings and trees, the passing horsemen and carriages, were cloaked in a silvery sheen of significance.

Tonight was momentous. Lord Purfoy’s spirit, for weeks unsettled and sunk in saturnine gloom, was calm and certain.

He would offer Miss Gray her inheritance and the freedom to live as she chose.

He then could only hope she would choose to share that life with him.

His future happiness lay with Fate herself.

Walking up the front steps at the entrance of Astley’s Amphitheatre, Lord Purfoy threaded his way through the chattering throng of young blades and dandies surrounded by a flock of fluttering ladies of the night.

The working people of London too were there in force.

It was years since he had attended and he was rather taken aback at how boisterous the crowd seemed.

Miss Gray had to deal with this night after night; he shuddered at the thought.

Having paid to have a box to himself he settled into the plush interior, kicking aside two empty bottles and some pie wrappings left by the previous occupants.

The show started with the usual jugglers and clowns to get the audience in the mood.

The crowd went wild with delight and Lord Purfoy shifted in his seat, barely able to contain his boredom.

Then three blasts of a hunting horn proclaimed the arrival of the horses.

He leaned forward to see a beautiful black horse canter proudly into the ring and on his back was a winged nymph, standing with one arm raised.

Lord Purfoy’s breath caught in his throat.

She was masked but unmistakeable to him.

Her wonderful flaxen hair fell loose down her back from a feathered cap.

It floated behind her as did the silk ribbons attached to wings on her jacket.

Lord Purfoy’s gaze would always be drawn to the horse, but handsome as Percy was, his lordship could not look away from the rider, so graceful, so strong and brave, so beloved to him.

He was unprepared for the bolt of love and desire that broke through his natural reserve.

There she was, separate from him, almost a stranger, her beauty incandescent in the stage lights; her grace of form, her dancer’s poise, her courage in riding so recklessly and at such speed, overwhelmed his senses and filled every cell with longing for her.

Rather than subside into attentive quiet, the audience grew rowdier, mixing whistles and catcalls with the general uproar.

Lord Purfoy was shocked out of his reverie and grew increasingly outraged at the lack of respect for both riders and horses.

He leaned over to the next box to quieten five young bucks who seemed particularly loud and offensive in their comments, and noticed the young baronet who had been sparring with Gentleman Jackson. ‘Sir Tufton! Mind your manners.’

The young baronet, furious at being scolded in front of his friends, leaned over and, in a voice that sailed over the hubbub, shouted, ‘His High and Mighty, the arrogant Lord Purfoy, thinks he can tell us how to behave! We paid our dues and what we do is our business.’ Faces in the audience turned to peer at the commotion, and some added their inflammatory comments, eager for a fight.

* * *

From the moment she entered the ring, Eliza felt the air turn electric.

No thunder had been heard but a stormy energy surged above the usual turbulence of the crowd.

The thought erupted in her mind: this was the night he had come for her.

So great was the import, she could barely allow herself to hope.

Concentrating on her own fine balancing act and control of Percy, she could not risk looking out at the crowd to search for the only face she longed to see.

But when the young man’s shout was heard, she glanced across at the boxes and fleetingly glimpsed Lord Purfoy’s dark head, the light from the central chandelier gleaming off his cheekbones, illuminating his fervent gaze.

In that second she thought their eyes met, but then she had to look away.