‘Thank you,’ I said hoarsely, bemused by this unexpected turn of events. How had he known I was here? And would he really be able to get me out?
In the interval that followed all that could be heard in the office was the scratching of Amos’s quill and the crackle of the fire. For the first time since yesterday afternoon I did not feel cold.
‘Ready to go, my dear?’
In my exhausted state I must have fallen into a doze, for the earl was at my elbow before I knew it.
‘Go?’
‘Yes, child. You are free to go.’
‘She’s on bail, sir,’ corrected Constable Lennox, looking at me with distrust. He clearly still suspected me of as yet unspecified crimes. After all, he had me down as the mastermind behind one of London’s most fearsome gangs.
The earl ignored him.
‘My carriage waits outside. We have a call we must make before I can return you home, I’m afraid, Catherine.’ The earl helped me to my feet. ‘Good morning.’ He tipped his hat to Amos and the constable and led me out into the sunlight.
‘How did you know?’ I asked once we were settled in his carriage. The earl tucked a large blanket around me and handed me a flask of warm tea.
‘Sheridan. Last night he sent an urgent message explaining how you’d ended up in gaol thanks to my miscreant of a son. I came as soon as I could, but I had to check that Jonathan had gone.’
‘So it’s true . . . he has left.’
‘Yes, sailed this morning with a stiff breeze to fill his sails. You need not worry about him any more, Catherine.’
‘It’s Cat. Johnny calls me Cat.’
‘Does he indeed?’ The earl smiled and ruffled my hair in the exact same gesture used by his son. ‘Well, here is one father who is mighty pleased that his offspring had the sense to choose you for his friend. That African boy . . . Pedro, isn’t it? . . . told me all about your exploits this morning when he took me to the docks. We were just in time to see the Potomac heading out to sea.’
I snuggled back into the blanket. ‘So where are we going now?’
‘To get that fool of a duke to drop his ridiculous charges, of course!’ said the Earl of Ranworth.
We arrived at the front door of Grosvenor Square just as the big house began to wake up for the day. Footmen were opening the shutters. A maid was scrubbing the doorstep as we made our entrance. She bobbed a curtsey as we passed.
Joseph, the footman, opened the door to us.
‘My lord,’ he said with a bow, recognising the caller. His eyes slid to the shabby urchin bundled up in a blanket and I saw a look of alarm flicker in his eyes, but when he spoke his voice remained calmly professional. ‘His grace is at breakfast. Shall I tell him you are here?’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ said the earl, striding past him. I hovered on the doorstep, uncertain as to my welcome across this threshold, until the earl turned back. ‘Come on, Catherine. You have to come too.’
Joseph stepped forward. I thought for a moment that he was going to throw me out, but instead he said, perfectly politely:
‘Would miss like me to take her . . . her cloak?’
‘If it’s all the same to you,’ I said in an embarrassed whisper, ‘I think I’ll keep it on.’ Underneath I was hardly fit to be seen in these halls.
Joseph bowed. ‘Of course, miss.’
I stepped into the foyer and saw a chest waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
‘His lordship’s,’ said Joseph in a low voice. ‘Off to school after breakfast, I’m afraid, miss.’ The footman gave me a significant look as if to say he was fully aware of the circumstances that saw me arrive there smelling of the sewer and that had driven his master off the premises.
‘Avon!’ The Earl of Ranworth strode on while Joseph and I hung back to have our brief conversation. He was opening door after door, looking for the duke. ‘Dammit, man, where are you?’
Joseph hurried to overtake him and opened a door on the far side of the foyer.
‘The duke is in the breakfast room, my lord,’ he said, ushering us through. ‘Good luck!’ he muttered as I passed.
The Duke of Avon was indeed at his breakfast, sitting at the far end of a long table draped in a snowy linen cloth. He had a newspaper propped up on the salt cellar in front of him and was tucking into a hearty meal of eggs and bacon. On his right sat a disconsolate Lady Elizabeth, who was toying with a piece of dry toast. Standing by the sideboard with his back to his father was Lord Francis. He was in the act of slipping a muffin into his pocket and I guessed he was hoping to supply me with my own breakfast later that morning as his parting gesture.
‘What the devil!’ blurted the duke on seeing the Earl of Ranworth burst into the room with so little ceremony. He then spotted me and dropped his fork with a clatter. ‘What’s she doing here? Joseph! Joseph!’
But Joseph did not come. I suspected that he had become conveniently deaf and was preventing any other servants answering the summons from his post outside the door.
‘Cut that out, Avon!’ barked the Earl of Ranworth. ‘You are not turning anyone . . . least of all this child . . . out of your house until you’ve heard me through. You’ve been a complete fool and thrown an innocent girl into prison. You would have murdered her too if I hadn’t come to hear of it.’
‘What the . . .!’ said the duke, unable to find the words to express his astonishment.
‘She had that money to pay for my wretched boy’s ticket to America. Your daughter . . . as kind and lovely a girl as a father could wish for . . . was ready to help Jonathan, for she cared more for him than those bits of glitter and gold that she had in her jewellery box . . . and you should be proud of her. As for your son, his only crime was to help a friend in trouble and find a safe passage for him. He is completely blameless.’