‘Who was worried?’ Tom said. He offered his handkerchief to Lou to dry her wet hands. She accepted the cloth offered by William instead. Tom’s eyes locked on hers. When William retreated and Charlotte joined her aunt on the sofa, Tom asked, ‘How are you, Lou?’

It was a simple question, but she couldn’t respond. In all of her grandiose plans of swooping in like a guardian angel to save the Mandevilles, she hadn’t stopped to consider how she would feel when standing in the presence of people made of flesh and blood, not dreams and fantasies. People who had become a reality once again. A muscle twitched in Tom’s cheek. He took a step towards Lou. Those blue eyes that had pursued her into her own time searched hers. She would have stepped away, but her feet were rooted to the spot, as though the woven branches of the rosebushes decorating the rug had reached up to take hold of her ankles.

‘I had hoped to speak to you,’ Tom said, a furrow in his brow, ‘about our conversation earlier in the stables. I –’

He was interrupted by the arrival of Sir Charles and Lady Mandeville. After a round of “good evenings” and asking how each other had passed the afternoon, Sir Charles called him over to make arrangements for the next day’s shoot.

‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said, the furrow still in his brow. ‘I should go and speak to my father. Perhaps we can find an opportunity to talk later.’

Lou watched him go. She watched the various groups of Mandevilles talk while they sipped their sherry. The sight of Charlotte taking her father’s arm, smiling up at him, pierced Lou’s heart. She could have joined them, made small talk. But what would she say if they asked about her day? She took a swig of sherry. It sloshed in her empty stomach.

Emma arrived and leant in for Tom to kiss her cheek. Her slender neck elongated gracefully and her white-gloved hand rested on his shoulder. Lou stared at the V of hair that dipped into the nape of Tom’s neck, just above his collar. She took another slug of sherry. How had she ever imagined that she could be the saviour of this man and his family? If only the thorns from the rosebushes would dig into her flesh and pull her down so that she might disappear.

Lady Mandeville had already begun pairing the women with the men to escort them in to dinner, when George Caxton lumbered into the drawing room. Lou knocked back the remainder of her sherry and placed the empty glass shakily on William’s tray. Edward offered her his arm, and George grudgingly held his out to Charlotte. Lou wanted to scream at him to take his hands off her. Calm, Lou, calm. If she began to talk about future events, they’d have her carted away in the blink of an eye. She had to bide her time and keep her mouth shut until she had some real and current evidence to use against Caxton. Slipping her arm through Edward’s, she walked into dinner by his side.