When she stepped into Ma’s front room she had a smile on her face.

11

Sunday morning was Matt’s favourite time. His parents and brothers were all engrossed in the newspapers, and the atmosphere was peaceful. He glanced around the drawing room: there was a fire burning in the grate – so warm, comfortable and safe. His thoughts turned to the young girl who had fled from their house. That had been three weeks ago, and a day never went by without Matt wondering about her …

The butler entered carrying a silver tray with a message for his father.

‘What is it, Gilbert?’ his wife asked, as he read the card.

He frowned fiercely, obviously displeased about the intrusion on their quiet Sunday morning. ‘There’s a Mr Albert Greaves and a Mrs Gertrude Osborne asking to see us urgently. Do you know them, Louise?’

‘I’ve never met them, but …’ Louise Stannard frowned. ‘Greaves? The name sounds familiar.’

‘That’s the name Gloria mentioned at the New Year dinner party.’ Matt put his newspaper down. ‘What on earth can they want?’

‘Goodness knows,’ his mother said, ‘but if they are here, we had better find out.’

Her husband sighed. ‘Send them up.’

‘Do you want us to leave?’ John asked.

‘No, no.’ Their father waved a hand in irritation. ‘They won’t be staying long.’

From the tone of his father’s voice Matt knew that the visitors would be politely, but firmly, ushered out as quickly as possible. Their peaceful Sunday mornings were sacrosanct, and all their friends knew better than to disturb them before lunch.

The visitors were shown in, and the three brothers stood politely while introductions were made; then they all sat down.

‘We apologize for calling uninvited like this,’ Mr Greaves said smoothly. ‘We are looking for someone and must follow up every lead, however tenuous it might be.’

‘Indeed.’ Mrs Osborne sniffed in distaste. ‘We have even taken to listening to the servants’ gossip. That is how we found out that you had dismissed someone for stealing who sounded like my niece.’

Matt was a pretty good judge of character, and there was something about this pair that made him uneasy, especially the man. It was obvious he drank too much and there was a strange, unstable look in his eyes. Not a person to be trusted.

‘We are looking for this girl – Eugenie Winford,’ Mrs Osborne said, getting to her feet and handing his father a miniature. ‘That is a likeness of her when she was twelve. She is seventeen now, but she can’t have changed much in appearance.’

His father never said a word but handed the picture to his wife. Matt and his brothers also went over to have a look.

‘Charming. And what is your interest in this girl?’ Louise asked, after casting a warning glance at her sons.