The cab drew to a halt outside the leather merchant’s premises on Whitechapel Road. Situated within earshot of the Bell Foundry, with the Earl of Effingham pub conveniently close by, and the New Royal Pavilion Theatre just across the street, it was a thriving commercial area. Sidney Marshall was a successful leather merchant, having inherited an already thriving business on the death of his elder brother, Daisy’s father, in the cholera epidemic of 1849. Shortly afterwards Daisy’s mother had died in childbirth, leaving two-year-old Tobias and the infant Daisy to the care of her brother- and sister-in-law.

Daisy and Tobias had been brought up above the shop and had wanted for nothing as children. Toby had attended a good school and had gone on to study medicine at the London Hospital. Daisy herself had also benefited from a good education at Miss Lonsdale’s Academy for Young Ladies, but having left school with a prize in just about every subject Daisy had found herself with little purpose in life other than to sit at home and wait for a suitable husband to appear. That was what her aunt expected, but not what Daisy wanted, and, after a battle with both guardians, she had applied for the position of governess in the Carrington household. Now she was returning home, broken-hearted and struggling to believe that Julian could have treated her in such a way.

Daisy alighted from the hansom cab and hefted the valise containing all her worldly possessions to the pavement. It was now snowing so heavily that she did not see the man who was walking with his head bent against the storm, and he sidestepped in order to avoid tripping over her case, almost knocking her off her feet.

‘I’m so sorry.’ The stranger steadied her with both hands. ‘Are you all right?’

Daisy nodded. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I had to put my case down in order to pay the cabby.’

‘No harm done, but the pavements are very slippery.’ He picked up the valise. ‘Have you far to go?’

‘No, this is home.’ Daisy pointed to the name above the premises. ‘I live above the shop.’

‘Marshall’s, a well-known name in this area. So you must be Miss Marshall? Are you Toby’s sister, by any chance?’

His smile was irresistible and she noticed that his hazel eyes were fringed with impossibly long lashes. Aunt Eleanora would have said it was unfair for a man to have such an asset. Daisy dragged herself back to the present and managed a smile.

‘Yes, I’m Daisy. How do you know Toby?’

‘I’m Nicholas Neville, but my friends call me Nick. Toby and I studied at the London.’ He proffered his arm. ‘Allow me, Miss Marshall. We don’t want any accidents.’

She would normally have rejected such an offer, but there was something about Nicholas Neville that made it impossible for her to refuse, and she leaned on his arm. He picked up her valise and they made it to the shop door.