Hot tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back. She would not let him see her distress. “I am a little tired from the journey.” She fought down a sob. “Please allow me to go and change my clothes.” Her voice faltered. She had no luggage: no clothes to change into, no hairbrush, perfume or any everyday item.

“There are clothes a-plenty in your very own room, my dear,” said Muldrow. “Make yourself at home. We have plenty of time ahead in which to become acquainted.”

Renewed hope sprang in Philomena’s heart. There must be a way out of this horror. She must remain calm and think carefully. She peered from side to side.

“If you imagine you can escape, my dear, may I advise against it?” Muldrow poured cold water on her hopes. “I am not a fool. My servants are almost as loyal to me as those at Thatcham Hall are to their master. I would make life extremely hard for any servant who shows disloyalty. My household has instructions to keep you in sight at all times.” Muldrow smiled, his green eyes gleaming. “Some, like our friend Joseph here, are armed. I suggest you find a suitable gown, my dear, wash your face and join me for a late breakfast within the hour.” Muldrow twirled his watch on its chain. It caught the light, blinding Philomena.

She struggled, knowing it was hopeless.

Her captor’s hands gripped more tightly. “I fear we will have to teach you a lesson or two in ladylike behaviour, my dear,” he murmured.

****

Hugh’s curricle sped through London’s streets. His mind raced, calculating as he drove. Joseph’s drive to Reading would take several hours, even with the fastest of horses. No horse could pull a coach at a gallop for forty miles. The wretch would stop to bait the horses from time to time, and they would need to walk a little, to recover from the bursts of speed.

Hugh’s own curricle was small and light and the fit chestnuts raring for a gallop, sick of the stultifying pace of London in the Season. As Hugh whipped the horses faster, determined to overtake and rescue Philomena, an idea struck. The railway: why had he not thought of that? Each half hour in a railway carriage would take Hugh further than two hours in the curricle. He would arrive at Fairford Manor well before Joseph. Hope mounting, Hugh steered towards the terminus at Bishop’s Bridge Road. Even if he had to wait an hour or so for a train, there would still be time.