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face, he said, “Is anything the matter, Alex? You look a trifle out of sorts.”
    Alexandra looked up from the piece of toast she was buttering, and smiled at him. “I do have a slightly dull head, John. But, I plan to ride this morning so that will hopefully clear away the cobwebs.”
    John nodded. “Fresh air is always a good remedy for that. Perhaps I shall join you.”
    Alexandra looked away. “Actually, I would prefer to ride alone today, John. I have a few things I’d like to think through.”
    “Of course, my dear, if that is what you wish.” He studied her for a moment. “Are you still concerned about going to London?”
    Alexandra sighed. “Yes. But, I doubt that there is anything I can do to change Grandmama’s mind.”
    “No, she’s quite adamant.” He frowned slightly. “You must not feel, Alex, that you alone are responsible for solving all the problems in this world. You cannot help everyone, you know.”
    At this moment Eliza Grantham walked into the Breakfast Parlour, so Alexandra made no response, but as she rode out of the gates of Grantham Place later that morning, John’s words played through her mind again. She knew, of course, that he was correct in what he said, but she still could not help herself from feeling responsible for the labourers who had come to rely upon her so much.
    Alexandra rode cross-country, purposefully keeping away from the main roads, because she knew that if anyone were to see her right now their suspicions would undoubtedly be aroused at the strange sight she presented. She carried with her a large, cumbersome bundle that contained the saddle she had taken from the stables, her pistol, and a change of clothes. Earlier, she had concealed the bundle near the gates of Grantham Place, and had surreptitiously retrieved it just before leaving, so that no one would see her with it.
    Reaching the copse without mishap, Alexandra dismounted and, with the ease of much practice, quickly changed into her male clothes. After adjusting a black mask over her eyes, she pulled a hooded cloak over her head, carefully tucking her copper curls out of sight, then set about changing the saddle on the horse, and disguising the animal’s distinctive markings. Several minutes later, her tasks successfully completed, she mounted her steed again and left the sheltered enclosure, riding towards the main road where she hid behind a small band of trees.
    The minutes ticked slowly by, until Alexandra eventually heard the sound of an approaching horse, but when the horse and rider came into view, she saw that it was only a farmer riding a cob, and quickly dismissed him as a likely target. She only stole from the wealthy, and knew, besides, that the farmer would present very poor pickings. He passed on his way unharmed, and Alexandra waited impatiently for a more likely target to come along. She was beginning to wonder if anyone else would pass that way today, when finally she heard the sound of approaching horses. Taking a deep breath she rode a little closer to the road, but still remained hidden amongst the shadow of the trees, so that her quarry did not become prematurely aware of her presence. She peered out at the road and saw a gentleman, driving a curricle and four, coming round the bend. As a lone traveller she knew him to be the perfect victim, so with a loud cry she rode free from the coverage of the trees, and brandishing her pistol, called, “Your money or your life! Stand and deliver.”
    She almost dropped the pistol when the gentleman turned his head and she found herself staring into the face of Robert Chanderly. Alexandra remained motionless, quite unable to believe the perverseness of fate that had led her to hold up the only person in the whole county who suspected her. The silence between them seemed to stretch to an eternity as Alexandra waited for him to do or at least say something. And then everything seemed to happen at once. There was a thunder of hooves, and within an