Questions tumbled over each other in Philomena’s head. Why did Joseph wait? What power did the man with the cold green eyes hold over him? What were they planning?

Thatcham Hall grew still. Footsteps sounded on the main staircase, as the Dowager and Selena went to bed. Philomena made a decision. She would not wait. She would leave, now, before Joseph made the journey from London. If she left tonight, there would be no need for Lord Thatcham to hear the truth. She could not bear to watch disgust creep across his face, if he heard the true story of her flight. He would despise such a tale.

The servants had left Joseph’s clothes, clean and dry, in a neat pile on one of the chairs. Philomena shook them out and sniffed. They no longer stank of Joseph, but still, they disgusted her. No matter. She would leave the Hall as she had arrived, taking nothing that did not belong to her. Philomena hung the nursemaid’s uniform in the closet, removed her mother’s brooch, wrapped it carefully in a handkerchief and put the bundle in the jacket pocket.

She looked around the nursery for one last time. She saw the table where John took his meals, and the bookcase holding his books. Nothing here could keep her. It was time to go. She opened the door. It creaked a little. She stopped. The passage was silent, but John turned over in bed and murmured.

Philomena pulled at the door. It squeaked.

John cried out from his room. “No. No! Leave me alone!”

Philomena stood, uncertain. John shouted again. It must be a nightmare. What should she do? She waited. It would be over in a moment. When he was quiet, she would go.

John cried out again and burst into noisy sobbing. Philomena could not leave like this. She ran next door. The child sat up in bed, eyes wide and staring. “Don’t let them take me!” he shouted, close to hysteria.

Philomena took him in her arms. She stroked damp hair away from wide eyes. “All is well, John. Go to sleep.”

Slowly, the sobbing faded. John’s eyes closed. Philomena snuggled him down into bed and smoothed the sheets. The child turned over, heaved a great sigh and fell back to sleep. Philomena watched as John slept. The poor child needs me.

She smiled. The feeling was new. John had seen so many others leave the Hall: first his mother, then one nursemaid after the other. How close Philomena had come to letting John down, just like the rest. For all the small boy chatter and bravado, this was a sad little boy with no mother and a distant father.

Philomena would not desert John, as everyone else had.

Slowly, she peeled off Joseph’s clothes. She folded the trousers and laid the shirt on top. Soon, perhaps, Joseph would find her. Her only safety lay in flight, but she could not take it. She must remain here for John’s sake.