The sound echoed along the corridor and down the stairs to where the Dowager sat in her drawing room, pretending to read. Only her fingers, flicking the corners of the book, betrayed her agitation.

“Well, Mama?” Hugh burst in without preamble, his voice cutting the air like a knife. “What is this I hear?”

“Good morning, Hugh. Please show a little more respect.” His mother peered up at him through her lorgnette, her cheeks unusually pink. “I collect you have heard that I have succeeded in finding the perfect governess for your son. She is, at this moment, giving John a lesson in arithmetic. The temporary arrangement made with the young woman to whom we offered succour at Christmas was no longer necessary, so Miss er, Miss Philomena has left us.” Her voice faded.

Hugh, shaking, was too angry at first to speak. He fought for control. “A governess.” The word reverberated with disgust. “How dare you appoint a governess for my son without asking my permission?”

The Dowager rallied and stood, raising herself to the height of her tiny frame. “Your sudden disappearance left me with no alternative but to take charge of such affairs. I merely chose to make an appropriate decision on behalf of my grandson.” She removed her lorgnette. “I should think you would thank me,” she finished, with dignity.

Hugh bit his lip. This was his fault. He should not have travelled so importunately to Bristol. He must put aside his fury, though it threatened to engulf him. He clenched his hands and kept tight command of his voice. “You have interfered with my life once too often, Mama. I have ever remained mindful of the respect due to a parent, for my father’s sake and for your own. I have allowed you to meddle in my affairs in ways that reached far beyond reason.”

He moved closer, staring his mother down until she could no longer meet his eye and looked away across the room. “This is my house, however. You have over-reached yourself for the last time. For the future, you will stay out of my affairs, or you will no longer be welcome at Thatcham Hall.” Hugh turned on his heel. The Dowager watched, speechless, as he left.

From Selena, he learned the full story. “She has gone to Bristol,” she told her brother, her voice trembling.

“Bristol.” Hugh spat the word. “I was there today. Damn the place, I wish I had never heard of it.”

“She has an uncle there. I’m sure all will be well.”

Hugh snorted. “Uncle, indeed. There is no such uncle. I scoured the city, and no one knows of Philomena or her fantastical relative. Whoever the child may be, she has no connections with that city.”

“Well, wherever she is, she has plenty of money. Mama gave her a generous gift.”

Hugh raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Philomena had managed to charm even his mother.