23

When the first hint of daylight crept beneath the curtains, Lou finally gave up on sleep. She sloped from her bed and headed for the bathroom, carefully tucking Tom’s handkerchief into the pocket of her robe. Drawing a bath, she sank neck deep into the hot water, and pressed a cold flannel to her forehead. When the clocks around the house chimed eight, she heard the bedroom door open.

‘I’ll leave your tea and toast here, Miss,’ Sally called from the other side of the door.

Lou sat up, water cascading down her body. In all of her night-time adventures, she had almost forgotten that she still had to make amends with Sally. ‘Please, Sally, come in.’

There was a pause before Sally stepped inside, hands clasped in front of her. Head dipped, she curtseyed, a model of subservience.

‘You’re punishing me, and I deserve it,’ Lou said. ‘I expected too much yesterday. I’m so sorry.’

Sally’s gaze remained resolutely fixed to the floor. ‘It’s me who should apologise. I had no business speaking to you as I did.’

‘Can’t we put it behind us and be friends again? I’ll never forgive myself if you don’t agree.’

Sally’s shoulders relaxed. She curtseyed again. ‘As you like, Miss.’

‘And we’ll have less of the curtseying, thank you.’

Plainly as relieved as Lou to have their relationship back on familiar ground, Sally smiled. ‘Will I lay out a dress for the shoot today?’

The shoot. Lou had forgotten that she was supposed to join the rest of the women to meet the men for lunch after their morning’s shooting. She couldn’t possibly go now she had arranged to meet Mary. Not to mention that she would rather take a bite from the bar of soap on the side of the bath than face Tom or Emma anytime soon.

‘I think I might take a walk instead,’ she said. ‘Will you choose me something comfortable to wear. Something loose that doesn’t need a corset, please?’

‘No corset!’

‘Mrs Hart manages without one, doesn’t she?’

‘Well, yes, but she’s … Mrs Hart.’

‘And I’ll dress myself.’ It was time to take back control.

‘Dress yourself!’

Lou laughed. ‘Is there an echo in here?’

Sally shrugged. ‘I suppose you know your own mind, Miss.’ She made to leave, but Lou called her back.

‘I was just wondering … not that it matters at all, but did you help me undress last night?’

Sally shook her head and straightened a towel on the rail. ‘I came up, but you were already sound asleep. I was impressed that you’d managed by yourself.’

‘And I don’t suppose anyone on the staff has said anything about me last night either?’

‘No. Should they have?’

‘Not at all.’ Lou brushed her own comment aside. ‘I wouldn’t mind a glass of water, if it’s not too much trouble. Actually, a jug would be good. And something for a headache.’

Sally left and Lou slumped back in the bath. She clutched the flannel to her head. So, it really was Emma who’d undressed her and put her to bed, saving her the shame of any of the family or staff seeing her worse for wear. She should never have got drunk and let her guard down. She was supposed to be pushing Tom into Emma’s arms, not slipping into them herself. Never mind crying on to his shirtfront. To add insult to injury, she had accepted Emma’s sympathy. For the rest of her time here – however long that might be – she would have to keep both Tom and Emma at arm’s length – literally as well as metaphorically – and help them from a distance. The last thing they needed was her getting drunk again and falling into Tom’s arms, taking advantage of his kind nature. Emma might get the wrong idea.