‘I must say, Herr Rosenstein, that such loveliness as I heard coming from the instrument when you played tonight is certainly productive of spiritual refreshment. I feel consoled having listened to it.’

He looked up at her words. ‘Frau Collins, I am sorry that you are in need of consolation. But glad that my humble piece has contributed to the easing of your spirits.’

They held each other’s gaze in a silence broken by the soft tumble and hiss of the fire; then Ella sat upright with a little gasp, and knuckled her eyes. It was time for their strange band to disperse back to their natural stations in the great and preternaturally still house, and they took up their candles and parted with mutual expressions of gratitude and good wishes for a peaceful night. Yet Charlotte was wakeful for several hours thereafter, but not unpleasantly so, as the music that had flowed from Jacob’s fingers played and replayed in her mind.

CHAPTER XXI

AT BREAKFAST, YET ANOTHER LETTER from Anne de Bourgh awaited Charlotte. This one ran to two sheets, and she unfolded them with some curiosity as to what could have engrossed the other woman’s pen to such an extent.

My dear Mrs Collins,

I hope this finds you and your daughters in good health and spirits, and enjoying all the comforts Pemberley has to offer. What follows is certain to come as a surprise: this letter comes to you from the South of France. I have flown the coop, perhaps inspired by your example. And to think in my last, I was begging you to send me the names of works on travel abroad. Now, here I am, in a small and ancient town perched high over the Mediterranean Sea, with vistas as far as Corsica, and tawny stone buildings that date back to times when this stretch of the coast was pillaged by Saracens, and every cottage was a fortress. The air smells of the sea; how strange that these foreign waters are so differently scented to our own – one would think that the ocean would be a constant.