‘It’s no trouble,’ he said. ‘My enemy’s enemy is my friend.’ And with that, the man of few words and honest hospitality, left.

The wind whistled outside, and snow collected on the ledge of the window. Lou got up and stooped to ruffle Clarence’s ears. How wonderful it would be to curl up in front of a fire and fall asleep without a care in the world. She wandered through to the stables and stopped at the first stall. Easing in beside Samson, she ran her hand along his sleek coat. He shifted, the straw cracking beneath his hooves. Lou plucked a handful of hay from a bag on the floor, she held her palm out flat and offered it to him. Samson took it with a gentleness that belied his size.

Going from stall to stall, Lou spent a few minutes with each horse. When she arrived at the final stall, she ran her hand over Ambrose’s rough mane. It was in the corner of what had remained of this stall that, as a child, she had hidden from Stephen, amongst the debris and charred remnants. If only it were that easy now. If only she could find a quiet corner to hide from the events of this world and her own. She buried her face in Ambrose’s sweet-scented warmth. How many times could a heart be plastered and patched up after it had cracked open? Surely a human heart could take only so many poundings before it was damaged beyond repair.

Lou willed the stable door to fly open. Outside, the wind howled and the snow continued to fall, but the door stayed resolutely shut. There would be no more good-natured banter, no more dances, no more lips, cold from the outside, whispering in her ear while she wished they would kiss her. Another crack appeared in the organ shrivelling inside her chest.

She pressed her face to Ambrose’s neck, her eyelids growing heavy. Perhaps she could sneak back inside the house and get a few hours’ sleep before she had to meet Alice. At least then she wouldn’t have to think so hard about what she was about to lose and what she must soon return to.

Ambrose’s ears twitched, and he shook his head. Lou straightened the blanket over his back and kissed his funny, rough mane before leaving him in peace.

The drive was empty of cars. The party was over. Even so, she couldn’t risk entering the house through the front door. The staff had no doubt been instructed to call for help at the first sight of the crazy woman. She followed the path around the side of the house and let herself in through the conservatory. Once inside, Lou stood and listened. How odd it was that a house so full of people could be so quiet. She crept into the billiard room, which was dark except for a fire glowing in the grate. She began to pick her way carefully across the room and was almost at the servants’ door, when a voice said, ‘Good evening, Louisa.’