Her knees shook as she descended the gangplank and set foot on Irish soil for the first time. She was happy to defer to the much-refreshed Breda, who ushered her safely through the throng and found a quiet place for her to wait while their luggage was collected, leaving Margaret to clutch her carpet-bag close and try not to surrender to panic. Almost all the voices around her were Irish, from thick brogues to a soft lilt that reminded her a little of Molly. Though most spoke English, she caught the occasional phrase that she presumed was the Gaelic language, lyrical and oddly comforting.

Lady Powerscourt had sent her landau to meet them. The elegant, beautifully sprung carriage was painted yellow and trimmed with gold. Under normal circumstances, Margaret would have been charmed by the perfectly matched team of four bays harnessed to the traces, but seeing the Powerscourt crest emblazoned on the doors reminded her that she was about to embark on a life in an unfamiliar house with a complete stranger for company.

What if Lady Powerscourt took an instant dislike to her? Even if she did not, Margaret would be at the mercy of her hostess’s goodwill, an uninvited guest who would be expected to entertain, to smile and make pleasant small talk, no matter how she felt. Tolerated, but not wanted.

“Sean will follow us with the luggage,” Breda said, ushering Margaret into the forward-facing seat and arranging herself opposite. “It’s ten miles to Powerscourt, over the border in County Wicklow. We’ll be there in plenty of time for tea, my lady. I’m right sorry to have abandoned you on the steamship. I hope you took no harm?”

“None, I promise. I’m terribly sorry, Breda, I must have appeared dreadfully rude. I’ve barely spoken a word to you. Tell me about yourself—have you worked at Powerscourt for long?”

“Two years, my lady.” Breda smiled tentatively. “I was one of the staff brought in when his lordship married.”

“And are you a local girl?”

“Ah no, not at all. My family are from County Mayo, which is in the west, though we’ve been in Dublin sixteen years now.”

“Have you a large family?”

Breda shrugged. “I’ve five sisters and three brothers, last count. I’m the eldest.”

“I am number six of seven,” Margaret said, ignoring the thought that none of her siblings would own to her now. “Do you like working at Powerscourt, Breda?”

“Oh yes, it’s grand. Lady Powerscourt is young and pretty, like yourself, though she keeps herself to herself, as they say. A bit shy of company. Not that we have much. His lordship has not been home since he lost his brother back in February.”

“Goodness, how tragic. Is Lady Powerscourt in mourning, then?”

“She’s put off her blacks, but she doesn’t entertain. It will be just the two of you, I reckon, for much of the time.”