Philomena started, but the Dowager held her hand up to call for silence. “Please do not waste my time with hysterics. You possess no qualifications as a nursemaid, and although I admit we have been surprised and pleased with your work, it is time Master John began a proper education with a governess. She will supply all the care he needs and give lessons at the same time.”

“Yes, your Ladyship,” Philomena’s voice trembled. She fought for control. She would sooner die than weep in front of this woman. “I-I shall be sorry to leave, but I understand.”

The Dowager paused for a long moment, as though making her mind up. “My dear, please understand me.” Her voice sounded unusually uncertain. “I will be honest with you, because you have served well. I have seen some attachment growing between my son and yourself.” She raised a hand to forestall any protest. “I do not entirely blame you,” she added. “My son is partly responsible. That is of no account. You must realise that any—er, liaison between the two of you would be entirely inappropriate.” She leaned forward a little, in emphasis. “It cannot be allowed to continue. I must, therefore, act while my son is away, in his best interests.”

Philomena’s head buzzed.

“I do not know where he has gone,” the Dowager continued. “He is a grown man and has male pursuits. I do not enquire into them. Men must be free to come and go as they wish.” She turned away again, her face a little pink. “He has taken a sudden fancy for travel. Who knows why that should be so?” She coughed, recollecting herself. “However, all you need to know is that Lord Thatcham is gone and will be away for some time.”

Philomena, numb, said nothing. The Dowager stood, rigid, gaze fixed on the view through the window. Philomena had twisted the front of her apron into a ball. She forced her hands to relax until the cloth fell back into place. She smoothed away the damp creases, trying to breathe steadily. The silence in the room lengthened.

“Now, I will allow you a few days to make your arrangements.” The Dowager gave ground first. “You will want to continue on your way to your uncle.”

She never believed the story, Philomena acknowledged. Still, she could not hold that against the woman. It was, after all, a lie and Lady Thatcham was no fool.