“Thank God for that,” Edwina answered. “I hope that wretched doctor will hurry up.”

She sat on the bed beside Irene and took her hand. “Irene, darling, can you hear me? It’s Mama. Time to wake up now, darling.” Then she shook her. Irene didn’t stir.

The duchess looked up at the cowering, sniveling maid. “Did you only just discover her like this?”

“Yes, milady,” the girl answered in her strong French accent. “The countess say last night that she is getting one of her migraines and she will take a sleeping powder, so I must not wake her at her usual time in the morning. But when it was past nine o’clock I wonder if perhaps she would like some tea. So I peek in. And she lies there, so pale, not moving. I am afraid. I try to wake her but it is impossible.” And she started sobbing again.

Edwina looked at her with distaste. “Show me these sleeping powders,” Edwina said. “Do you know how many she had and how many she might have taken?” she asked.

“I do not know, Your Grace,” the girl said. “I am not allowed to touch her medicines that the doctor prescribes. She keeps these shut away in her bathroom cabinet.”

The duchess’s two sisters arrived on the scene, breathing heavily. Charlotte let out a little moan. “You see, I was right. The spirits never lie. I told you they said ‘death.’”

Edwina spun on her, eyes blazing. “Be quiet, Charlotte. Enough of your nonsense. Irene is still alive and breathing, and I intend to keep her that way.” She broke off, collecting herself as the butler tapped on the bedroom door.

“Your Grace, the doctor is on his way,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Someone should subdue that hysterical French girl,” Edwina said, “and, Huxstep, I think you had better wake the duke. He should know about his sister, and he needs to be up anyway, if he is to meet this architect fellow.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” Huxstep said. “And should I perhaps bring up the brandy decanter and some glasses? You have clearly had a shock.”

“Very thoughtful of you, but no, I do not think alcohol is needed. I will stay at my daughter’s side until the doctor arrives, and I’d appreciate it if the rest of you left us for the present.”

I followed the butler and the two elderly sisters out of the room.

“Do you really think Irene tried to take her own life?” Virginia asked in a stage whisper as we came out into the hall.

“She always did go in for melodrama, even as a child,” Charlotte said. “And she was upset last night. I do feel for her. It’s terrible when one has lost everything—status, power and money—and is dependent on the goodness of relatives.”