‘About what?’

‘Should I resign my commission and marry my cousin?’

He stared at her intently, waiting. She could hardly breathe. Did he really want a truthful answer? Did he want to hear her say that marriage to Emma was the only way to save his home and his family? Tell him to marry Emma. Tell him now! Her mouth refused to form the words.

Tom left Ambrose’s stall. He grabbed a saddle from a bench, and Lou followed him into the very last stall. He placed the saddle on Samson’s back and tightened the straps around the horse’s belly. Lou looked from his leather brogues to his suit. ‘Are you sure it’s safe to ride in the snow?’

Tom placed the bit between Samson’s teeth. ‘I ride for a living. It’s the single thing I know I am good at.’ He pulled gently on the reins and led Samson out into the yard, the horse’s hooves clomping on the freshly cleared cobbles. After checking the straps again, Tom placed his foot in the stirrup and threw his leg over Samson’s back. From his lofty position in the saddle, he looked down at Lou. ‘I have things to think through, and I think more clearly when I ride.’

Taking up the slack in the reins, he squeezed Samson with his heels. They crossed the yard at a walking pace, but as soon as they were free of the gates and onto the soft snow, Tom stood in the saddle and shouted a command. Samson responded instantly and sped to a gallop, kicking up the snow.

18

With her arms wrapped around her body, Lou made her way to the front of the house and back inside. She stopped before the fireplace in the hall to warm her hands. Why hadn’t she been able to tell Tom to marry Emma? She kicked the hearth. What did any of this matter when this house, these people, that Christmas tree, even this sensation of being chilled to the bone, were nothing but fantasies? She wandered through to the morning room.

Bertie looked up from the dolls’ house.

‘Oh,’ Lou said. ‘I wasn’t expecting to find anybody in here.’

‘My granny’s helping with some cooking,’ Bertie said. ‘I’m very lucky that Lady Mandeville has let me play, and I must stay right here, be quiet as a mouse and definitely not be a bother to anybody.’

Hearing Sally’s voice in her son’s words, Lou smiled. ‘May I join you?’

Bertie nodded and returned to rearranging the miniature furniture inside the house. He took a small Christmas tree from his cigar box and placed it at the bottom of the staircase. The dining room was crammed with dolls, and he laid some tiny silver plates on the table.

Lou knelt on the rug. ‘Are they having their Christmas Ball?’

Bertie nodded.

‘Oh dear, you seem to have forgotten someone.’ Lou took the only figure remaining in the box – the figure of the maid with red hair – and placed her in the kitchen. Immediately, Bertie reached inside, removed the doll and placed her back in the box.