Two footmen entered followed by Mr. Perfect, the manager. They laid several covered dishes on the table and then stood back. The Duke waved them away. “We will serve ourselves,” he said. “Do not come back until I send for you.”

“There is so much to arrange,” ventured Alice when the manager and servants had left.

“We will come about,” he said, smiling at her in a way that left her breathless.

It was a silent meal. The Duke, usually talkative, seemed strangely preoccupied. As soon as they had finished, he rang for the dishes to be cleared and, when that was achieved, started to shrug himself into his many-caped coat.

“Where are you going?” asked Alice in dismay.

“Out. Haunting. I must find you a house.”

“I shall come with you.”

“Ah, no, that you will not. You will stay here and warm yourself at the fire and then put yourself to bed.”

“It is only seven o’clock in the evening,” said Alice, but he was already rummaging through the box of jewels and selecting some of the finest pieces. “Mayhap, I shall find a sale for these at this hour,” he said, speaking more to himself than to Alice.

And then, quite suddenly, he was gone.

Alice looked wistfully at the spot where he had last been. Everything was being set in action—and so soon. She had hoped they might have at least one last evening together.

She began to consider what her life would be without him and felt filled with dread. She would have a household and an army of servants to rule. She would have some female companion to launch her into the terrifying society of London, a companion who might one day see beneath the thin disguise of French aristocrat, to the shivering scullery maid underneath.

And what if the ghost’s identity were discovered? Did they still burn witches?

Alice moved over to an easy chair beside the fire and tried to relax, but frightened thought after frightened thought chased around in her brain.

Fretting and anxious and worried, she waited until two in the morning, but still he did not return.

At last, tired out, she undressed and chose one of the bedrooms and wearily climbed into bed.

Outside lay smoky London, unknown, menacing… and lonely.

Chapter 4

“My dear Alice, you must be guided by me. Your uncle commanded me to mould your taste. How are we to impress the ton an you don’t do as I say?” said Miss Emily Snapper intensely.