Philomena, aware that she had not long before been encouraging Lucy to gossip about Selena’s family, wondered how she would extricate herself from this situation. In truth, she was as delighted at this meeting as was Selena. She felt for Hugh’s sister as if she were her own. The loss of such a friend, who cared nothing for the difference in rank, compounded Philomena’s misery at leaving the Hall.

“Come, Lucy.” Selena took her friend’s arm. “Philomena is a companion of mine from long ago. I told you she was the best dressmaker in the world. Was I not correct?” Miss Everett, her eyes wide as saucers, found nothing to say. “We must be off,” repeated Selena.

She turned smoothly to Philomena and winked. “I have a dress that I would like you to alter for me.” Her voice was heavy with emphasis. “I will bring it over myself, later today.”

The girls left Philomena in a state of confusion. She had no doubt that Selena would return as promised, and her spirits leapt at the prospect of renewing their friendship. For several minutes, Philomena paced around the rooms, hands twisting together. She could not sit still.

She bit her nails with anguish. She must not spend time with Selena. She must forget Hugh. They could be nothing to each other. The Dowager had been right to separate them. They were worlds apart. It was best that she had left the Hall. She had escaped a life as Hugh’s mistress, a life that would make her an outcast from every society except the very lowest and would bring shame on him.

Philomena longed to see Selena again. She would explain that she could not renew their connection, except as her dressmaker, and would allow Selena to treat her only as she would any other former servant.

Other clients had appointments that day. Philomena discussed their needs with half her attention, for her mind was in turmoil. She begrudged every moment spent with the plain Miss Down and her even plainer mother, designing a dress to conceal the girl’s enormous hips. “The current fashion for many petticoats under your skirt will flatter your tiny waist,” Philomena said, abstracted but tactful. “See, I will make the bodice a little longer and the neck a little lower, the better to show off your elegant shoulders. There, how charming you will look.”

Miss Down left more satisfied than ever. Philomena sat alone, waiting for Selena’s return. The hours ticked around. She imagined Selena, surrounded by a group of admirers, forgetting her promise. Will she never come? Philomena’s head ached. She applied brown paper soaked in vinegar, to her forehead, but felt no relief from the pain.

She lay on her bed in her tiny room for so long that when the knock sounded at the door, she had decided that Selena would not come. She could hardly drag herself up to open the door.