Lord Henfield ordered the post-chaise for a quarter to the hour next morning, which made Lady Vernham’s butler blink, and his lordship’s valet speechless, and was a few yards along the street from Lady Leyburn’s hiring just before eight o’clock. He did not expect Miss Yate to be on time, and was quite surprised when two female figures, one with a basket, emerged from the house and hurried towards him. Three in the post-chaise was not ideal, and the basket was large. He could foresee it being a major encumbrance, and covering not just the knees of the maid. He bowed to Miss Yate, and handed her into the vehicle, then assisted the maid, who was struggling with the basket. Finally, he climbed up and requested the postillions to set them off.

‘Might I enquire as to the contents of the basket, Miss Yate?’

‘I sent Matty to buy such things as my brother might find useful. There is calf’s-foot jelly, some potted meat, a bottle of tonic, some goose grease in case his chest is bad, and also a pair of clean sheets.’

She sounded as though this list was worthy of praise, so he made appropriate noises. Privately, he was convinced that what he was doing was madness, and might prove a very difficult situation when they reached Oxford. This was strengthened when he asked if her brother had given his address. Miss Yate dragged a note from her reticule and gave a lane he did not recall, but then said ‘St Ebbe’s’. He groaned. The parish might be not that far from Christ Church, but the other side of that road was an area of squalid tenements running down to the gaol and ancient castle. It was not an area suitable for genteel young ladies. In his time at the university, only a few years past, it had been an area of strumpets and low drinking dens, and he dreaded what they might find.

They made good time, and pulled up at The Angel, on The High, a little after one o’clock. Miss Yate was all for rushing to her brother’s side, but Lord Henfield was firm that she must take sustenance first, after a long journey. His legs were cramped, and he had spent five hours in close proximity to a large basket, a maid of ‘homely’ proportions and a young woman who had alternated worried silences with fear-filled imaginings of her brother’s condition and what her mama would do if she found out about both his situation and her ‘rescue mission’. At the same time, Lord Henfield admired the fact that Miss Yate, the downtrodden and browbeaten Miss Yate, had taken positive action, and against what she knew her mama would want.

‘I assure you, my lord, I could not eat another morsel.’ Miss Yate shook her head. ‘How can I eat when Jasper … ?’