Philomena’s face hardly changed. She remained calm and serious, as though discussing an important debating point.

Hugh’s rage subsided. “In fact…” It was hot in the room. Hugh ran a finger around his collar. “I suppose you may be forgiven. Perhaps I gave you a wrong impression. I can assure you, however, that your charge is as dear to me as…as …”

Words were insufficient to describe Hugh’s feelings for John. How to explain the mix of guilt and love that threatened to choke him whenever he saw the boy, no matter what mischief the child had committed?

“I will be honest,” Hugh said at last, speaking slowly and painfully, stretching his legs before him as he subsided on to his stool. “Since my wife died, I have found it difficult to—I have not been able to…” He paused, searching again for words.

How could he describe his feelings to Philomena, when he was hardly sure of them himself? He wanted to be with his son. He loved John, but when they were together an emotion Hugh could not name threatened to overwhelm him. So often, the sight of the boy’s face made his heart sink, his chest contract and his palms sweat with something very like fear. It was easier to avoid the boy and leave him to nursemaids and servants. They did not see John’s dead mother staring straight out of the boy’s eyes, accusing Hugh of lacking the capacity for love.

“He reminds me of his mother,” Hugh said at last, so softly that Philomena leaned forward to catch the words. Her face did not change. Hugh searched for signs of disgust and revulsion but her expression remained calm. He swallowed hard. A silence stretched between them that threatened never to end.

With nothing left to say, Hugh waited, until at last, Philomena spoke. “Perhaps you will come to the nursery now, to see John before he sleeps? I am sure he will be leading Alice a merry dance and may not even have changed into his night clothes.” Philomena held Hugh’s eyes. “And perhaps, tomorrow, you could show him something of your experiments in this room. It is called a camera obscura, I believe.”

Hugh, shocked, looked around his sanctuary. Imagine John careering wildly around the room. On the brink of a vehement refusal, he caught a spark of amusement in Philomena’s eyes. “If you think John will find it of interest. I will show you both how to take photographs with this new camera.”

John was tidying his toys as Hugh followed Philomena in to the nursery. He looked sideways at Philomena. “Are you pleased with me, Miss ’Mena? Alice said you would be pleased if I made the room spick and span.” He frowned. “Although, I do not know what spick and span means.”