‘I have an unbeatable system,’ he said. ‘An unbreakable system. I have an unbreatable system an unbeakable system a beakless system, a breathless system!’

‘How much?’ I asked, a gambler’s daughter again.

Perry put my notes to one side and shovelled out the rest of his pockets and we made piles on the counterpane of coins, and notes of hand, and paper money.

Altogether it came to something like £22,000.

‘Perry,’ I said, awed.

He nodded, beaming at me. ‘Unbreatheable!’ he said, with satisfaction.

We were silent for a moment.

‘You shouldn’t have taken my money,’ I said.

He blinked at me. ‘I had to, Sarah,’ he said. ‘I’d have asked you, but you weren’t here. I had to. Mama was talking of wearing her diamonds to present you at Court – I had to have money.’

I frowned. ‘What do your mama’s diamonds have to do with…’ then I broke off. ‘Have you lost them at play?’ I asked.

‘Pawned,’ he said gloomily. ‘I had to get them back, Sarah, or I’d have been really sunk. She keeps me on such a short allowance I can never manage to stay out of debt. And a little while ago I found the key to her strongbox. It was before the Season started and I knew she wouldn’t need them for months. So I prigged them, and pawned them.’

He paused gloomy for a moment, but then his face brightened. ‘And now I’ll be able to get them back!’ he said delightedly.

He glanced at my face. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked.

‘You’re a thief,’ I said. ‘A thief and a drunkard and a gambler.’

Perry looked contrite. ‘I did win, though,’ he offered.

‘I’m no better,’ I said. ‘I was a thief and a card-sharper and a horse-trader. You are what you have to be, Perry. But don’t ever steal from me again.’

His face brightened. ‘I’ll make a promise with you,’ he offered. ‘I will never steal from you again, I will never steal from Mama again, and I will never pawn anything of hers or yours again. It has been dreadful, Sarah, I thought I’d not be able to get them back and then she would have known!’

I nodded. I could imagine how afraid Perry must have been.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘I hold you to your promise. You must never steal from me or your mama again. And I’ll never steal from you or cheat you.’

He put out his long-fingered soft hand and we shook firmly.

‘Done,’ I said. ‘Now get your winnings off my bed, I need to sleep, I have a throat like charcoal.’

Peregrine gathered up his papers and crammed them back into his pockets. My bank bills he counted out carefully on to my dressing-table and he added to them the guineas he had borrowed from me.

Then he came to the bedside again and leaned over me. I could feel his warm brandy-sweet breath on my face as he leaned over.

‘Good-night Sarah,’ he said softly and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Good-night, my best of friends.’


I cat-napped after he left me; once, I turned and was wideawake and found I was chuckling, thinking of Perry coming into my room, his pockets bursting as if he had been sharping cards all night. Then I heard the clock strike seven and I got up, splashed cold water on my face, and slipped into my riding habit.

Only then did I remember that it was Thursday, and Will was coming to ride with me today.

I brushed my hair in a hurry and coiled it up on my head, then I pinned on my hat and went to the door. I ran down the stairs pulling on my gloves and the kitchenmaid met me at the front door, her face all grimy and her hands black with soot from the fires.

‘Beg pardon, m’m,’ she said, dipping a curtsey.

I nodded to her and opened the door myself and slipped out. There was a figure of a man, holding two horses waiting in the street opposite the front door. But it was not Gerry the groom there, waiting for me holding his horse and Sea. It was Will, standing with the reins of his bay horse in one hand, and Sea’s reins in the other.

‘Oh Will!’ I said and I beamed at him.

‘I’m freezing,’ he said crossly. ‘I’ve been waiting here for half an hour, Sarah, and that softy maid of yours wouldn’t find you and tell you I was here.’

I chuckled and ran down the steps and took the reins. ‘You’re a weakling,’ I said. ‘This is just bracing.’

‘Bracing!’ Will said under his breath. He cupped his hands and threw me ungently up into the saddle. Sea sidled and I patted his neck.

‘Yes,’ I said provocatively. ‘If you had lived in a wagon like I did you’d count this good weather. But you’re a soft gorgio you are, Will Tyacke.’

Will scowled and swung into his own saddle and then his brown face crumpled and he laughed aloud. ‘Why are you so damned full of chirp?’ he asked. ‘What have you got to be so glad about?’

‘Precious little,’ I said. The horses fell into step side by side and I turned and smiled at Will. ‘I’ve had some trouble, I waked all night. But it’s come all right now, and I’m glad to be out of that house, and with you. I’m so glad to see you.’

His glance at me was warm. ‘I’d wait all night in a snowstorm to see you and count myself lucky,’ he said. ‘I rode up in darkness last night to make sure I’d be here in time. Sarah, you’re the first thing worth seeing this week.’

I put my hand out to him in a swift instinctive gesture, and he did not kiss it like a lover but took it in a firm gentle clasp, as if we were shaking on a deal. Then his horse shifted and we let go.

‘What’s your trouble?’ he asked.

‘Tell me about Wideacre first,’ I said. ‘And how did your meeting of the corporations go?’

‘All’s well on Wideacre,’ he said. ‘The oats and barley is sown, we’re setting to the hedging and ditching. The root crops are coming up. All’s well. I’m bid send you people’s love and to tell you that we all want you home.’ He straightened a little in the saddle as we came down the road towards the park. ‘They elected me chairman of the National Association of Corporations,’ he said. ‘I was proud. I’m honoured to be asked to serve.’

‘Oh, well done!’ I said. Then I paused. ‘What does it mean?’ I asked.

Will smiled. ‘Oh, little enough,’ he said. ‘We will meet every two months or so for debate and discussion, but we have more than enough trouble with spies and the government to want to do more than that.’

‘Spies?’ I asked blankly.

Will nodded. ‘They think they see traitors and Boney’s agents in every bush,’ he said. ‘It’s the way of this government – aye and others! They can’t bear to think that they might be in the wrong. They can’t bear to think that another Englishman might disagree with them. So they will only believe that if you disagree with them you have to be a paid spy, or a foreigner.’ He paused for a moment. ‘They think they own the world,’ he said simply. ‘The landlords and those in power. They think they own what it is to be an Englishman. If you think differently from them they make you feel like you don’t belong in their country. It’s not their country, but they won’t hear a word of dissent.’

His face was dark. ‘It’s a nuisance,’ he said. ‘I have all my letters opened and read before I ever see them, and it makes them late. Since the last meeting there were two men prowling around Wideacre asking people in the village if I was a rick-burner!’ Will snorted. ‘Damn fools,’ he said.

‘I never knew,’ I said. The enemies of my childhood had been the thief-takers and the gamekeepers. I did not know there were gamekeepers of ideas too.

‘They make little difference,’ Will said. ‘They sit by the door and every single thing you say they scribble down in their little books and then they run off and copy it all out fair for their masters to read. Everyone makes sure they speak civil and say not a word against the government or the king. And I never write if I can send a message.’

‘Oh,’ I said blankly.

‘But it was a good meeting,’ Will said. ‘There were some northern gentlemen there who are planning experimental farms in the north. One of them took me out to dine afterwards. We talked till late into the night. He wants to set up an experimental farm outside his potteries for the workers. I was telling him about the children’s school on Wideacre, and about how we farm. He’s coming down to see it when he’s next in the south. He seemed a likely man.’

I nodded. I was dimly aware of a world outside my knowledge, outside my understanding, where neither a gypsy brat nor a pretty young lady would be of much account, and for a moment I envied Will his contact with a weightier world.

‘That’s enough of me,’ Will said abruptly. ‘What of you? You look a bit pale, Sarah. And what of this trouble of yours?’

‘Not my trouble,’ I said. ‘It’s Perry. You were right about his drinking, he does take too much. But the fool must needs think he can gamble, too. He stole some bank bills of mine, and as if that weren’t bad enough he won handsomely with them. He was in my bedroom last night scattering gold on my bed as if I were a princess. It’s all right now, he’s brought my money back, and he’s won enough to keep himself for months. But I’ll never be able to teach him not to gamble if he’s a lucky one!’

Will pulled his horse up so sharply that it gave a little half-rear. ‘He did what?’ he demanded, his face white with shock, his brown eyes blazing.

I lost my smile. ‘Took some money of mine, and then won with it,’ I said lightly.

We said nothing for a moment and then Will loosened his reins and let his horse go forward.

‘Don’t you mind?’ he asked me. I could hear the anger behind his voice but he was keeping his tone steady until I told him more.

I chuckled. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Will, remember where I came from!’ I said. ‘I’ve lived among gamblers and thieves all my life. I’m angry that he should steal from me, but I had the money back within the day…and I can’t help but find it funny that he should win so well! Thousands and thousands, Will! He was shovelling money out of his pocket all over my counterpane.’