Lou stored the details of Riley’s death in a mental file. Finally, she had proof of a crime that George had already committed in this time. Backed up by whatever Elliot was able to provide on his gambling debts, and she should have enough ammunition to use against George. The threat of revealing his crimes would surely bring a man – even one like George Caxton – to his knees.

Lou collected up the hem of her skirt and walked slowly up the drive. She had to calm down, gather her thoughts, and formulate a plan for how exactly to use this evidence against George. If saving the Mandevilles was so important that it had allowed her to put aside thoughts of her mum’s death for a morning, then they were worth fighting for. She could almost hear her mum cheering her on to give the Mandevilles the best Christmas present they had ever had – George Caxton all wrapped up in a huge bow. A bow that would bind him and gag him and put an end to his plans.

25

That evening, the house was full, swelled by the shooting party guests. Gone was the relative informality of the previous evenings, and Lou sat in the drawing room amongst men in tails and bowties and women draped in silk, dripping with precious stones. Lady Mandeville and Lady Caxton wore tiaras and held joint court of the ladies seated on the sofas and chairs around the fireplace. Mrs Hart blocked Lou’s view of the men at the end of the room. Charlotte sat beside her aunt, looking so pretty in a coral-coloured dress with leaves embroidered along the neckline. The only woman unseated was Emma. She circled the room, perching on the arms of chairs and sofas, refusing the canapés the footmen offered.

‘Asparagus en croute and caviar on toast,’ Lady Mandeville announced when William offered the silver salver to the ladies.

‘Your chef is a miracle worker,’ Lady Caxton said. ‘Asparagus in December, what a triumph. But I’m not so sure about this?’ She examined the liquid in her glass. ‘Has my daughter been at work with your drinks tray, Lady Mandeville?’

‘It’s gin and grapefruit juice, Mother.’ Emma sat on the arm of the sofa beside Lady Caxton. She shimmered in a black dress, the bodice and thin straps decorated with crystal beads. Her hair was piled high and secured in a Grecian style with a length of silver thread.

‘Emma tells me that these cocktails are quite the thing in London these days.’ Lady Mandeville held the glass away from her face to survey the cloudy liquid.

‘And we mustn’t be outdone by The Capital,’ Mrs Hart added with good-humoured sarcasm.

‘Indeed,’ Emma smiled. ‘Although I must say, I am feeling increasingly enamoured with Northamptonshire on this visit. I could possibly consider making my permanent home here. One can only take so many London parties before they become rather old hat.’

Charlotte glanced towards the group where Tom stood. ‘Is that because boring old Northamptonshire has special charms for you now, Emma?’