‘Oh, I have noticed several things, Miss Verey! More, perhaps, than you might think! I have observed that your brother is not himself tonight, that Miss Marchment appears to have lost some of her sparkle and that you are cross about something-would you care to enlighten me?’

‘No, thank you!’ Jane said smartly, secretly taken aback at his perspicacity. She allowed her own gaze to drift back to Lady Dennery, who was laughing as she allowed one of her admirers to feed her with grapes. ‘Would that we were as perceptive of our own circumstances as you are of other people’s, your Grace!’

‘Ah, true!’ Alex smiled whimsically, not one whit put out. ‘It is always so difficult to see the beam in one’s own eye, is it not, Miss Verey! Now, lest I forget, I believe that Lady Eleanor will be calling on you tomorrow to deliver an invitation to my home at Malladon. We had a sudden urge to escape the pleasures of Town and seek some country quiet!’

Jane eyed him suspiciously. This sudden invitation seemed most questionable. She had a horrid misgiving that the net was closing in around her; that Alex had tired of her resistance to the match with Philip and was now planning to put an end to her games. He had allowed her some latitude, had even played along to a certain extent, but now he had lost patience. She looked at him through her lashes. He was smiling blandly, but there was a hint of challenge in his gaze that only confirmed her doubts. Clearly there was some plan that hinged on Malladon.

‘I am not certain that Mama would wish to leave Town whilst the Season is in progress,’ she said cautiously, testing the water. Despite her words, she knew that it was very unlikely that Lady Verey would refuse. She would be too flattered, too grateful for such a sign of Lady Eleanor’s regard.

Alex’s smile grew. ‘Oh, I am persuaded that she will accept the invitation!’ he said easily. ‘And it will only be for a short while! The benefits outweigh the drawbacks, you know, for I am sure your mama’s main purpose in bringing you to Town is to see you suitably settled by the end of the Season! In that she and I are as one!’

Jane’s feeling of entrapment pressed closer about her. He had summed up Lady Verey’s reactions so accurately! Jane knew that her mama had never made any secret that she wished to revive the Delahaye match and such a sign of encouragement and approval from the Duke and Lady Eleanor could not be rejected. The three of them were united in the attempt to wear down Jane and Lord Philip until they capitulated.

‘I am sorry that you are not more enthusiastic, Miss Verey,’ the Duke said mockingly. His gaze had not left her face once and now Jane felt so frustrated she was sure that it must show. Vexed, she bit her lip.

‘Checkmate, Miss Verey?’ Alex added softly. ‘You know that you must concede soon! We are all ranged against you!’

Jane’s stormy hazel eyes locked with his.

‘Check, perhaps, but not checkmate, sir! Beware that your complacency does not catch you out!’

Alex laughed. ‘How stimulating it is to cross swords with you, Miss Verey! I never knew an opponent who could look defeat in the face and yet persist in opposing me!’

He bowed and sauntered back to Lady Dennery, insinuating himself at her side and displacing several of his rivals with what seemed the greatest of ease. It made Jane feel even more annoyed. He obviously did not care that he had to share Lady Dennery’s affections with so many others! It was all a little too sophisticated for Jane to either understand or appreciate.

The music was starting again. She slipped back into her seat beside Sophia and observed the droop of her friend’s mouth as she contemplated the rest of the evening without Lord Philip. With a further spasm of despair Jane realised that the success of the Duke’s plan would mean the death of all Sophia’s hopes. She set her chin. She needed some allies now and she was already starting to plan her next strategy.

Jane had intended to plan her next move once she was in bed that night, but in the event she fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. She awoke again, suddenly, and for no apparent reason, and lay in the dark, wondering what it was that had disturbed her.

Then there was the sound of gravel spattering against the window and a whisper, ‘Jane? Jane, are you there?’

Jane slipped from the bed and leaned out, the curtains billowing behind her.

‘Who’s there? Harry? What on earth-’

Lord Henry Marchnight was in the street below, supporting another figure whom Jane recognised with deep foreboding as Simon.

‘Harry? Is Simon hurt?’

‘Of course not,’ Henry said tersely. ‘Come down and open the door, there’s a good girl! I don’t want to wake the whole house!’

Obscurely reassured, Jane dragged on a robe and sped downstairs. A single light burned in the hall, and from behind the door leading down to the servants’ hall she could hear the low murmur of voices. She slid the bolts back softly.

‘Thank God!’

Henry was already outside the door and strode in to deposit his burden in the hall with scant concern for Simon’s welfare. Jane recoiled from the smell of drink as her brother lurched towards the stairs, missing the handrail and slumping on to the bottom step. She had thought that Simon had recovered his sobriety during the soirée that evening, but evidently he had made up for it immediately afterwards with a trip to his club.

‘Good heavens! He’s three parts disguised!’

‘Just be grateful you didn’t have to bring him all the way home as we did,’ Henry said bitterly.

The door closed and Jane spun around with a gasp. She had thought Henry was alone, but the tall figure emerging from the shadows was as familiar as it was unexpected.

‘Can you get him upstairs on your own?’ the Duke of Delahaye was asking Henry. He cast Jane one single dark glance. ‘I need to have a word with Miss Verey.’

‘I can call Simon’s valet to help-’ Jane said. She had already stretched out a hand towards the servants’ door when Alex’s fingers closed around her wrist.

‘No,’ he said, and there was such a note of authority in his voice that Jane fell silent. For the first time, her gaze moved from Henry to Alex, noting their extraordinary appearance. Gone were the gentlemen of ton Society, and in their place were two rather disreputable characters in shabby black and white. Henry, with his tumbled fair hair and billowing white shirt, looked rather like a poet fallen on hard times, whilst Alex’s sinister black cloak made him look like the archetypal highwayman. Jane had to press a hand to her mouth to stop herself laughing. Above it her eyes were bright.

‘Oh, dear! You look-’

‘Thank you,’ Alex said drily. ‘Your face says it all, Miss Verey! Henry, please-before we wake the whole house-’

But it was already too late. The door from below stairs opened and Cassie stepped into the hall, holding her candle high. She gave a muted squeak.

‘Lord save us! Miss Jane! And the young master! Foxed again! George,’ she shouted back down the stairs, ‘come and help the young master to bed! He’s as tight as an owl!’

Jane realised that Alex was still holding her wrist. In the ensuing confusion he pulled her round to face him. Suddenly she saw that for all their comical appearance their business was deadly serious. Alex was looking both grim and determined.

‘Miss Verey-may we speak in private?’

Jane’s eyes widened. ‘Now? We cannot!’

A hint of a smile lightened the grimness of Alex’s expression. ‘I fear we must! I assure you, you are quite safe with me! I simply need to ask you a few questions!’

Jane’s startled gaze searched his face. ‘Surely it can wait until the morning-’

‘I am afraid not,’ Alex said, very definitely.

‘Best do as he asks, Janey,’ Harry Marchnight said soberly. He was helping the servants to manoeuvre Simon up the staircase and suddenly Jane and Alex were alone in the shadowed hall. Alex dropped her wrist and stood back to allow her to precede him into the drawing room, picking up the candelabra as he followed her in. The door shut with an unnerving click.

‘Your Grace, this is very improper…’ Jane said faintly, curling up in an armchair and drawing her robe more closely about her.

‘I know.’ Alex smiled with sudden and devastating charm. ‘Needs must, Miss Verey! I shall not keep you long and this is very important.’ He took the chair opposite and sat forward, fixing her with a stern look that almost made her shiver. ‘Is Simon in some kind of trouble?’

Jane met his eyes very directly. ‘I am not aware of it, your Grace. What kind of trouble?’

Alex shifted a little. ‘We found Simon far from his usual haunts, in circumstances that suggested foul play. He was slumped in the gutter, in severe danger of having his pockets picked-or worse! He is not in the habit of getting blind drunk and hanging around street corners in Spitalfields, so-’ He broke off, his eyes narrowing on Jane’s face. ‘Do you know anything about this, Miss Verey?’

Jane knew that her expression had given her away. She had assumed that Simon had over-indulged at his club, but as soon as Alex mentioned Spitalfields, she realised that Simon must have returned to look for Thérèse, just as he had sworn he would. As she hesitated, Alex said drily:

‘I see that you do know, Miss Verey! You have the most expressive face! So what is this all about?’

Jane resented his high-handed tone. ‘What business is it of yours, your Grace? Forgive me, but you and Harry Marchnight are the ones who have been creeping around London like Mohawks!’

Alex gave her a reluctant smile. ‘Touché, Miss Verey! I can see that our behaviour must look suspicious! However, have you considered that your own actions are also most questionable?’