‘Oh, I read a little. Explored a little. I saw the conservatory for the first time.’

‘What did you make of my orchids?’ Sir Charles asked. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ He launched into a lecture on the origin of each flower.

Lou nodded politely, all the while sensing someone watching her. She glanced along the table and saw her accomplice holding a napkin to his mouth, feigning a small yawn, which was visible only to her. She stifled a laugh before noticing Mrs Hart watching them.

The atmosphere in the room was light, the conversation easy. Even Edward’s mood was brighter than the previous evening, which Lou decided went someway to making up for the change in plans. At least the Mandevilles’ return let her off the hook for trying to explain why she couldn’t dance a single step.

After dinner, the women left the men to return to the drawing room, and Lady Mandeville called for a restorative brandy for each of them. Charlotte sat on the floor beside the fire with the new glass baubles that had arrived from Selfridges arranged on the hearthrug. She was brimming with excitement at the prospect of trimming the tree the next day.

‘Well,’ Lady Mandeville said, sitting back in her chair. ‘We’ve all had quite a day, haven’t we?’

Mrs Hart nodded her agreement, and Charlotte looked up from her ornaments. ‘All except Louisa. She’s been stuck here all day while we have been having our wonderful adventures. How dull it must have been for you.’

Lou swirled the brandy around her glass before taking a sip. Warmth inched down her throat. It spread to fill her chest like the petals of a spicy orange orchid unfurling. She smiled at the memory of Tom looking up the stairs at her and yawning behind his napkin. Lady Mandeville was right. It had been quite a day. Quite a day indeed.

12

21 December 1913

‘No, Miss,’ Sally laughed. ‘You go to your left, and I go to my right.’

Lou let her hand slip from Sally’s shoulder. ‘It’s hopeless, isn’t it? I really do have two left feet.’

‘You need to practice, that’s all. Come on.’

Lou placed her hand on Sally’s shoulder. ‘All right. But don’t blame me if you end up with bruised toes.’

Together, they set off on a waltz around Lou’s bedroom.

‘And one. And two. And three. And four.’ Sally counted out slowly, but no sooner had she told Lou to look up than Lou tripped over her own feet and tumbled to the bed, taking Sally with her. Collapsing in a heap, they disintegrated into a fit of giggles.

‘I’m sorry, Miss,’ Sally said, struggling to her feet. ‘What would Mrs Moriarty say if she came in and saw me in such a manner?’

‘Stuff Mrs Moriarty.’

Sally hid a giggle behind her hand. ‘Oh, Miss!’

‘Go on, admit it,’ Lou said, resting back on her elbows. ‘It’s hopeless, isn’t it? There’s absolutely no way I’ll be ready to dance with anybody in just three days.’