If Tom resigned his commission, he wouldn’t go to France. If he didn’t go to France, he wouldn’t die. But hadn’t he made it plain that he would never resign from the life he loved without good reason? What better reason could there be than marriage? Lou had to take every opportunity to drip honey into his ear; to plead Emma’s case. Emma would make any man a good wife. Tom would learn to love her. How could he not?

But what about George Caxton? Would he let his sister marry a man he hated? If there were any truth in the rumour of Edward’s relationship with the missing maid, George would be sure to find it out. And if George got his hands on any evidence, he would waste no time in sharing it and unleashing such a scandal, that the reputation of the Mandevilles would be ruined. No decent parent would allow their daughter to marry into such a family, even if they were related. The rumour had to be quashed. And there was only one way to get the upper hand over a man like Caxton. Lou had to play him at his own game, to find the truth before he could. There wasn’t a second to lose – since she had no idea how she had come to be here, she had no idea when or how she would leave. At any moment, she may turn a corner and find herself plunged back into the darkness of the derelict Hill House.

She ran up the stairs, rushing from room to room until she found Sally in a bedroom along the corridor from her own.

‘The maid who left after I arrived,’ she said, hardly able to catch her breath. ‘Where did she go?’

Sally’s feather duster hovered over a silver trophy shaped like a dog, on the mantelshelf. ‘I’m sure I don’t know.’ Her eyelid twitched. She was a terrible liar.

‘Please, Sally,’ Lou said, ‘it’s important that you tell me everything you know about Alice.’

‘There’s nothing to tell. She was here a month, hardly enough time to get to know anybody when you’re as busy as we are.’

‘But she had access to the family?’

‘To clean their rooms and serve tea.’

‘Why did she leave?’

Sally returned to her work, vigorously dusting the silver dog. ‘Mrs Moriarty is hardly likely to share the contents of a resignation letter with me, now, is she?’

‘Was there any suggestion of a … well, of a man?’ Lou pressed.

The feather duster stopped again. This time, Sally didn’t look up, focusing instead on the chimneybreast. ‘If I knew anything about why Alice left – which I’m not saying I do – then it’s only the tittle-tattle of the other staff.’

This was impossible. There was no time to pull punches, not even with Sally. ‘Aren’t you supposed to do what I say?’ Lou asked. ‘Tell me everything you know about Alice, this instant.’ She shocked herself with how harsh her words sounded. She was about to apologise but hadn’t counted on Sally’s ability to stand up for herself.