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Eventually they came back to their senses, and slowly, reluctantly, Marcus let Amelia slip out of his arms, and set her back on her feet.

‘I don’t want to stop kissing you, ever, my love,’ he said, still holding her hands, ‘but I know you were trying to tell me something. I could say I’m sorry I interrupted you, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be true. ’

‘Yes, Marcus! But we cannot discuss it here. Come away in the corridor for a moment and I will tell you.’

She pulled him, unresisting, through the crowd, and in a few moments, they had some measure of privacy, though their conversation seemed to necessitate standing very close all the same. ‘I told you about Lavinia threatening the young woman, though I’m not sure you were listening.’

He grinned at her unrepentantly. ‘I was listening, up to a point. I’m sorry, my dearest love. But I did have more important matters on my mind.’

‘Well, yes, I expect so, but listen now. I cannot tell you if you look at me like that! Mr Pennyfeather didn’t mention the young woman’s name in front of everybody, though we must suppose she has agreed to bear witness, or matters could hardly go further.

But that’s not the worst of it. Marcus, I’m so sorry, but he said that Lavinia murdered your brother.

He seemed quite sure of it. If I understand him correctly – I was astonished – he spoke of poison. I’m assuming you know nothing of this?’

The laughter faded from his countenance, to be replaced by shocked incomprehension. ‘My God, Amelia, I most certainly did not!’

‘I know it sounds grotesque, but I assure you that’s what he said. It’s not the sort of thing I would be likely to mishear. And he arrested her for murder of her husband. Dozens and dozens of people must have witnessed it.’

Lord Thornfalcon stood stock still, an expression of horror creeping onto his face. ‘Can it be true? No, no, it can’t be. My brother died in a riding accident – fell from his horse. Or so I was always told. I was abroad…’

‘I thought Mr Pennyfeather might have warned you in advance, when I had absorbed the shock and my brain began to work again. But I can see that he has not. I’m so sorry, Marcus.’

‘I don’t… It’s not that I struggle to believe it, my dearest. I feel no impulse to throw up my hands and say it is impossible that Lavinia should ever do such a thing.

Is that terrible? But there has never been the least suspicion of it, as far as I am aware.

Not a whisper. I suppose he must mean that she drugged him and caused his fall?

I cannot make any other sort of sense of it.

It’s such a dreadful thought. And it’s poor Ambrose I can’t help thinking of…

He loved her, Amelia. That was always some consolation to me, when I was still enthralled by her – that he loved her and treated her like a queen.

’ He was silent for a little while, and then said, ‘My God, Priscilla! That poor child. What an atrocious thing.’

She sought to comfort him, though in truth, there was little she could offer in consolation and what she said to him made her uneasy even if it turned out to be the truth.

‘My stepmother said, and I imagine she is right, that a woman in Lavinia’s position will never pay the full penalty for such a crime, even if she is found guilty, which she might not be.

It might never come to trial even, do you think?

Lavinia herself said as much regarding her arrest, before the full extent of what she was accused of was revealed – that her father is a rich and powerful man who will use his influence on her behalf. ’

‘Perhaps so. Perhaps Lady Wyverne is right. But he cannot hush this up, however hard he tries – there will be an enormous scandal; Pennyfeather has made sure of that by acting so publicly. I am not saying it should be kept quiet, if she has truly killed my poor brother. He deserves justice, if there is such a thing in the world. But Priscilla, to discover when she is a little older that her mother is a murderess… Oh, Christ, Amelia, and poor bloody Jeremy, too. He’s waiting outside in my curricle – he was with me when the note arrived, and I was so overset, I could not think to do anything but bring him.

He drove me here, in fact, as he said I was not fit to do it myself.

How will I tell him? I fear it will destroy him. ’

‘Tell him what, Marcus?’ She did not understand how his friend could be supposed to care so much.

‘He loves Lavinia – has done so for years, ever since we were children together. He told me so a few weeks ago. Then, he was hopeful that they might one day have a life together, with Priscilla. But whatever happens, surely that is impossible now. And I must tell him without loss of time, before he hears it from another source.’

‘I suppose you must.’

‘But first, I must take you home. It will be a sad squeeze, love, in the curricle, but I see no alternative. I can’t send Jeremy off alone, I need to tell him after we have you home safe, and I did not delay long enough to fetch out a closed carriage.’

‘Or your hat.’

He gave her a ghost of a smile at this. ‘Or my hat, or a coat or cloak. I was so desperately worried about you. But we must go.’

Amelia’s head was whirling after the events of the last hour, wonderful things so mixed with what looked like, and surely was, disaster.

It must be a horrible shock for all Marcus’s family to discover that Ambrose had been murdered and they had never suspected it at all, but had condoled with his murderess on her bereavement and kept her as a close member of their family in the years since.

And the concern for her child’s future – his niece, assuming that was all she was – must be a constant worry, whatever happened to Lavinia.

‘Yes, you must tell him, but then also speak urgently with your mama and sister, before they too hear this elsewhere.’

‘I know it,’ he said grimly. ‘I fear this will be a terrible blow to my poor mother, whose health is not good and who has suffered so much already. Let us go, my love.’

Mr Gastrell’s face betrayed his relief when he saw Marcus emerging from the theatre, though it lessened somewhat when he realised that the three of them must squash in together to convey Amelia back home.

He offered to step down and fetch a hackney for his own use, and was plainly puzzled when Marcus refused this generous offer.

The carriage journey was most uncomfortable but thankfully short, and the three conversed little during the time, beyond a stilted exchange of commonplaces.

Once in Brook Street, Marcus jumped down and helped Amelia to descend. She had had him stop the horses a little way from the house, and he walked with her along the silent street and saw her safely inside, via the area steps rather than the main entrance.

‘Goodnight,’ she said, smiling up at him and pressing his hand. ‘It’s so dreadful… it’s hard to know what to say to you. But we will cope with it all, Marcus, now we have each other. You know you can rely on me for support, I hope.’

‘I never doubted it,’ he said. ‘I take great comfort from knowing that we will see this through together. My love, I hate to be parted from you, but I will see you tomorrow, and let you know… everything. Goodnight!’

She turned to look when she had reached the bottom of the stone steps, and waved, and he raised a hand in response, watching until she had closed the door behind her and disappeared.