On the packed train to the South, Sybil and Rosie realized they were both a little nervous. In terms of drawing up a clear plan of action, Rosie was by far the more organized of the two. As the filthy old steam train rumbled through the Midlands, razed to the ground by years of enemy bombing attacks, Rosie laid out her strategy.

‘I’ll go to Dowry House and make enquiries – don’t forget, I still know quite a few people who work there,’ she told Sybil. ‘Hopefully Lord Stow might be in residence, but if he’s at Stowupland I’ll just have to sit it out. I’ll tell the butler that I have some urgent news for his lordship and arrange with him that, when his lordship returns, he will allow me to speak to him.’

Sybil gave an impatient shrug. ‘All that’s fine, Rosie, but what if our story doesn’t come over as strong enough? What if Lord Stow decides we’re hysterical, vindictive women?’

Rosie looked at her friend in amazement. ‘Well, I’ll be blowed!’ she gasped. ‘You’re the one that got the ball rolling, picking my brains on the Brigadier, telling me how much you wanted to get back at him. Now you sound like you’re losing your bottle.’

Sybil flushed indignantly. ‘I’m not bottling out, as you say,’ she responded hotly. ‘I just want to be sure that we have a good case to present to his lordship.’

Chewing her lower lip, Rosie gazed thoughtfully out of the window, which was splattered with blobs of black greasy rain.

‘It’s like we discussed before,’ she eventually said. ‘He’ll be angry, so we keep it short and sweet – I tell his lordship how I’ve got it on good authority that the Brigadier has threatened to blackmail Lady Veronica.’

Sybil quickly chipped in, ‘And how he misuses the family money Lord Stow entrusted to him.’

Rosie gave a quick nod. ‘Then you come in with your side of things.’

‘Right,’ Sybil agreed. ‘Let’s just hope it works.

Later that evening, when they arrived at Euston Station, the two women went their separate ways: Rosie to find a B & B in Finsbury Park and Sybil to a hotel in Whitehall close to the War Office.

‘We need to work out where we can next meet up,’ Sybil said, as they disembarked from the train that was belching huge puffs of thick black smoke from its sooty engine. ‘How about lunch in Lyons’ Corner House in Oxford Circus, on Friday? I’ll have done my exam by then and hopefully you’ll have seen Lord Stow.’

Rosie nodded in agreement; then, after giving each other a quick hug, they parted company, each on her own individual mission.