‘How’s that lucky?’

‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? It was a cover up. If the coroner had delivered a verdict of suicide – which this clearly was – the stigma would have crucified the Mandevilles. There’s no way the coroner would have wanted to subject a titled family to that, even if this Sir Charles was a discredited MP.’ Will tapped his teeth with his pencil again. ‘I wonder what this dodgy business deal was that Sir Charles was involved in?’

A creeping dread spread through Lou. ‘Is George Caxton mentioned as one of the witnesses?’

‘No. Should he be?’

‘I just wondered. He married Sir Charles’ daughter later that year, so I thought … Actually, I don’t know what I thought.’

‘You have been doing your research, haven’t you?’ Will smiled.

‘Does it have any detail about the business deal that went wrong?’

Will scanned the article again. ‘Nope. Your best bet is the national press. The local press was less likely to report a scandal in their backyard. A juicy story of the resignation of an MP would have shifted plenty of copies for the nationals, though.’

Will navigated to the website of The Times, but before he could go any further, there was a knock at the door. Mrs Rogers stood at the small window and tapped her watch.

‘Time waits for no man,’ Will said. ‘Listen, I’m here again tomorrow. Come back, and we’ll see what else we can dig up on your Mandevilles.’

‘But you’ve got work to do.’

Will switched off the computer. ‘Some of those shoe patterns have waited over a hundred years for the touch of an archivist. What’s one more day?’

Lou stood outside the library, looking into the dark window. It seemed impossible that she had spent the last hour researching the Mandevilles as though they were part of an assignment on a family from the dusty, distant past, when that morning, she had seen them. She had eaten breakfast with them and talked to them. They were as real and as present as the drizzle now soaking her hair. If events in 1913 played out unchanged, George Caxton would destroy the Mandevilles so completely that not even the records of their lives would be left to place in an archive. Their history would be scattered in a few forgotten newspaper columns. And with no heirs to remember them, there was nobody to care.

Lou focused on her reflection, now split by vertical security bars. She may be powerless to change the course of events in her own life, but what if she could influence the outcome of that distant past? If she had it in her power to save a man’s life, and in turn, that of his family, shouldn’t she at least try? Stephen and Dean wouldn’t miss her if she stayed away for a few more days. The people that needed her now were a mile from here and one hundred years away.