‘She knows ’em!’ came the gleeful shout from a woman stood next to me. ‘It was your one what started it,’ she said. That meant Lucien.

I looked from one man to the other. The feeling of relief that had flared in me to see Lucien’s face was rapidly replaced with dread. There was only one way this could go and, though I no longer loved Vincent, I didn’t want to see him hurt. Foolish of me to shout out to him. I’d meant for both of them not to hurt one another, but would Lucien understand that? I hoped I hadn’t given myself away.

The two men paced round each other. I’d seen prize fights where the men sized each other up in this way, but there was none of the banter that accompanied those occasions. What I saw in Lucien’s eyes and reflected in Vincent’s was deadly intent.

Barky appeared at my side.

‘They say Lucien threw the first punch. His Lordship walked past him and something made Lucien take exception to his face.’

‘They met, before. You remember?’

I’d never been quite sure if Lucien realised I’d been with Vincent, but seeing him that very first night at the theatre, and again walking away from Barky’s, he must have guessed. My head began to throb at the idea that he might think there was still something going on between us. What had he said when he proposed? That above all he wanted a wife he could trust.

‘God help us. Is he handy?’ Barky said.

‘What do you reckon?’

Lucien was broad, but quick. On the other hand, Vincent had probably never had a fight in his life.

‘If there’s any sense of the African winning, someone will step in on His Lordship’s side, I’m sure of it.’

Barky was right and the thought made my blood run cold.

‘Wait a minute, though.’ Barky jerked his head towards the opposite side of the circle where three Black men had gathered. They weren’t cheering like the rest of the crowd, just watching. ‘Maybe they’ll want their say too.’

They were Blackbirds; they had to be. I didn’t want Lucien to be beaten, but better that than a riot. If the Blackbirds laid a hand on Vincent, the thought of what it might lead to was frightening. The law wouldn’t let them get away with hurting a viscount.

‘You’ve got to put a stop to this,’ I said.

‘How?’

‘Please, Barky.’

Barky stepped forward. Neither Lucien nor Vincent noticed him. They were still eyeing each other, both injured but neither willing to walk away.

‘Come on, gents, that’s enough,’ Barky said. ‘Ladies and children present.’

A laugh went up. The women and children had been cheering the fighters on louder than the men.