Lou smiled. There was a glimmer of hope yet. As much as he railed against it, Edward was a product of an upbringing he shared with his older brother. She took a slice of cold toast from the rack and buttered it slowly, banking on Edward being too polite to leave her to eat alone. ‘I think you’re more like your brother than you might care to admit.’Edward peered at her over the top of his spectacles. ‘Really? How so?’

‘You seem unable to resist doing what is best for your family.’

A pause.

‘And there you have found my Achilles’ heel, Miss Arnold. If I were less concerned with what my family thought of me, then I might …’ His words trailed away.

Worried that she was losing him, Lou said, ‘There’s no shame in wanting to please your family.’

Edward’s spectacles slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up. ‘I’m afraid if you knew everything about me, you might not be so kind. But then, I suppose I conform in at least one respect. As the younger son, it’s my job to be a disappointment.’

Lou wanted to place her arms around him and tell him she knew all about the maid and it wasn’t so bad. That everything would work out for the best. But would it? ‘There’s no weakness in asking the people we love for help. Why not speak to Tom? Whatever your troubles, I’m sure he will want to help, if you give him the chance. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so blunt, but he will be going away soon, and if something should happen to him …’ She managed to stop before she said too much. Not that Edward appeared to notice. He circled the rim of his teacup with his fingertips.

‘I appreciate your concern,’ he said, ‘but there are some things not even my brother can help with. If you’ll excuse me.’ He rose and picked up his newspaper. As he left, a maid appeared. She had been asked to check whether it would be possible to clear the room so that the staff could start preparations for the party, if it wasn’t too much trouble.

With the hall full of activity and staff rushing from the passageways into the ballroom and dining room, carrying boxes and crates, Lou made herself scarce. She roamed the rooms that didn’t require decoration, killing the time before her meeting with Elliot at midday. The hands on every clock crept around, making each minute seem like an hour and each hour, a lifetime. Her thoughts were preoccupied with what Elliot might have for her and with Edward’s sad face, leaving no time for thoughts about anything or anyone else. Almost no time.

In the billiard room, she pushed balls around the table. In the library, she flicked through the newspapers and pulled books from the shelves, returning them without reading a single page – even the Plato, which she had been enjoying. In the morning room, she sat in the window seat. Outside, two gardeners hammered spikes into the ground along the drive, from which they suspended colourful paper lanterns. Lou was so busy concentrating on their work and the drone of staff chatter in the hall, that she missed the two cars pulling into the gates until they came to a stop on the drive. She jumped to her feet and fled into the hall. William, on his way to open the front door, paused to give her a quizzical look.