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The industrious Runner was as good as his word, and was next to be seen in Half-Moon Street, where he was lucky enough to find Lord Thornfalcon at home, with his sister Helena and his widowed mother.

They, like the Wyvernes, had been expecting him.

‘Mrs Pennyfeather,’ the little man said disconcertingly upon receiving his host’s greeting, ‘will be fair tickled when I tell her I’ve met you, sir.

She is a great devotee of the latest public prints. ’

It was soon clear that Lady Amelia – or someone – had found it necessary to explain the situation regarding Lavinia; this at least spared Marcus the awkwardness of doing so himself and sounding like an utter cockscomb.

It could not be helped, he realised, since such matters, however delicate, could not be concealed now that an official investigation was underway.

Mr Pennyfeather, with a degree of tact that would have confirmed Rafe in his opinion of him, if he had known of it, made it clear that he knew already that Lady Thornfalcon – the other Lady Thornfalcon – could not possibly be responsible for the assault.

‘Not directly, she couldn’t,’ he added ominously.

It was plain that the officer had indeed spared more than a casual glance for the prints that featured His Lordship so prominently – he could not prevent himself from shooting sidelong looks at the Major’s tall figure every so often, and then shaking his head, as if in disbelief that he should find himself interviewing such a notable personage.

‘Well then, sir,’ he said in a business-like manner, ‘I understand that there’s a great number of young ladies interested in you, setting aside these so-called Friends of Lavinia, whose concern isn’t quite so personal, you might say.

I can’t quite make these Friends out, I must say.

To get so agitated about the private life of people you don’t know, and even try to interfere in their personal business, as though they were characters in a book and not living, breathing humans with their own opinions…

I don’t know what the world’s coming to.

But let’s talk about the other ladies. At least we know what they want, and it’s a tale as old as time, if you’ll pardon me for saying so. ’

Helena said, smiling, ‘Yes – I’ll spare my brother the trouble of answering that, for he finds it all most embarrassing, as I’m sure you can imagine.

The prints are exaggerated, of course, for dramatic effect, but it’s perfectly true that many young ladies – and not just young ones – have thrown themselves at Lord Thornfalcon’s feet.

Literally. Off horses, you know. And swooned when he was near, so that he was obliged to catch them.

But I think that had mostly stopped, or at least greatly lessened, since his engagement was announced.

Because it was clear to them that they were wasting their time, to be blunt. ’

‘Well, we Runners, we appreciate a little bluntness, miss, when so many people try to spin us fairy stories. You don’t think – any of you – that one of the fainting ladies would have gone to the bother of hurting Her Ladyship, then?’

‘Why should they?’ said Marcus tersely. ‘I wasn’t even slightly interested in any of them before, man; I’m hardly likely to think better of it and begin a sordid intrigue with my fiancée seriously injured or even…

with my fiancée seriously injured.’ He didn’t know why it was so hard to put into words what might so easily have happened to Lady Amelia.

‘Of course not,’ the officer agreed comfortably.

‘And a blessing it is that your reactions were so quick, I’m sure, and the young lady took no hurt.

You should hear Sir Humphrey talk about it – he paints a very vivid picture, so he does.

I wish I’d been there to witness it, for more reasons than one. ’

‘It was a miracle,’ said Helena, much more serious now. ‘I can still see it, if I close my eyes. I’m so grateful that you weren’t present that evening, Mama; you must have been so shocked and distressed till we realised they were both safe and well, against all the odds.’

Lady Thornfalcon said, shuddering, ‘My dears, it still gives me nightmares to think of it. And though the renewed public attention cannot be welcome – and we have had such a deal of it already after all the gossip this spring that I am sure it is a wonder we do not all run away to some remote island – I cannot say that I think Sir Humphrey was wrong to call you in, Mr Pennyfeather. It doesn’t seem right that anyone, whoever they may be, should get away with such irresponsible behaviour. ’

‘No, indeed, my lady,’ he said sententiously. ‘And it is my duty to speak to everyone concerned, including your daughter-in-law, of course. This is an irregular question, I admit, so I hope you’ll forgive me, but how do you think she will be likely to receive me?’

‘Coldly,’ responded Helena promptly. ‘As if insulted that you should dare to interrogate her. Scornfully.’

‘I agree, dear,’ her mother said. ‘But you know, I’m not sure if you realise, officer, how very beautiful she is. She relies on that in all her dealings with people, and she will work it on you, no doubt.’

‘There isn’t a trick that hasn’t been tried on me, ma’am, I promise. And as for those sorts of goings-on, I’m a married man, and not what you’d call susceptible, as Mrs Pennyfeather would vouch. Hard-headed, she tells me I am.’

‘If my sister-in-law is not cold – if she tries instead to charm you,’ Marcus offered, almost against his will, ‘it will mean that she is frightened. But I don’t see why she should be.

I cannot really believe that she had a hand in this, though there is no denying her ultimate responsibility for the whole furore. ’

His mother put in, ‘But she will never admit to that, of course. I have known her since she was a child, and lived with her for years while my eldest son was alive, and I doubt she feels a scrap of guilt, or could be brought to understand it. And as for the public attention, which we so dislike, it’s meat and drink to her.

If you were to arrest her – though I’m not saying you will ever have cause to, of course – she’d play you such a scene as would set your hair on end. ’

‘Like Anne Boleyn going to the Tower?’ Mr Pennyfeather said musingly. ‘Screaming, and falling on the floor, and such Drury Lane airs? Well, he that lives longest will see most, as they say.’

Helena, as Amelia had hoped she might, did have some idea of the names of persons who had been standing near them at the top of the steps, having an excellent memory, and gave them to Mr Pennyfeather.

She was obliged to acknowledge that several of the ringleaders of the Friends of Lavinia had been among them, including Miss Lancaster and Miss Archer.

‘I don’t accuse anyone,’ she added a little anxiously.

‘But these people were definitely there – I saw them. And perhaps they saw others, and you can make some sort of a list when you put it all together.’

‘That’s the ticket, miss,’ he said. ‘Slowly and surely does it. Don’t you worry, I’m not one to be jumping to any unwarranted conclusions.’

Marcus offered to show the man out; he had a feeling there were things to be discussed between them in some sort of privacy.

And indeed, Pennyfeather said, as the door closed and they headed down the stairs, ‘You’ve been having a trying time of it, sir, it seems to me, before even this fresh start.

Came home to convalesce, I understand, from wounds taken in the line of duty, and then all this nonsense to greet you. ’

‘I have a broad enough back, man. But what I can’t bear is the notion that I have embroiled Lady Amelia in this cursed situation of mine, and damn near got her killed.’ Why was he telling the fellow this? It was none of his affair.

The Runner sighed sympathetically. ‘She’s a rare, brave one, sir, it’s plain to see.

Many a lady – and not just ladies – would be making a main fuss if they’d been through what she has.

Yelling and carrying on and suchlike. And yet she made sure to tell me that this here Lady Lavinia or whatever she’s called couldn’t have done it, instead of blaming her as she so easily might have.

I’m not convinced Mrs Pennyfeather would find it in her heart to be so reasonable in the circumstances, though she’s as good a woman as ever drew breath.

But she has a fierce temper, sir, and I won’t deny it.

No, your young lady is a treasure above rubies, as no doubt you know.

And I’m hopeful that I’ll get to the bottom of it all, for her sake as much as for the law.

The law is an impersonal sort of thing, you might say, but a young lady of that quality…

newly betrothed and in love; it fair breaks my heart, and I’m not a soft sort of man by any means.

Well, talking pays no toll, so I’ll be off, my lord, and good day to you.

’ He raised his shaggy beaver hat and was gone, most unlikely of Cupids, leaving Marcus staring after him in a brown study.

At last, he shook his head, as if to clear it, and slowly made his way inside.