‘Oh.’ It would take a while to adapt to the idea that food was readily available at any moment, that sitting down for dinner didn’t first involve a hike and a hunt. ‘I’m sorry. I worked through, without realizing.’

‘Three meals a day, Miss Gillies. Ours is strenuous work. We all must keep our strength up.’

Effie simply nodded, not rising to the chastisement. She ate in tiny bites, determined not to disgrace herself tonight. Her ambitions were modest – to eat and escape back to her room, with as little interaction as possible. To cry into a pillow where no one could hear.

‘So the cat’s back, then,’ Henry, the footman, said to no one in particular.

‘I thought she was giving it to the Regent’s Park Zoo?’ asked Jenny.

‘Something about she didn’t like the view from the enclosure.’

‘Ah.’

‘Declawed though, now. Apparently.’

‘There’s still the teeth,’ Billy muttered.

There was another silence as everyone ate. Effie caught several of the staff watching Mr Graves, as though his speed of eating dictated theirs.

‘Fanny, did you place the flowers in Lord Sholto’s room as I asked?’

‘Yes, Mrs McKenzie. On the table by the window.’

‘Good.’ She went to take another bite. ‘But you removed the lilies? He’s allergic to lilies.’

‘Yes, Mrs McKenzie. They were added to her ladyship’s arrangement.’

‘Very good.’ The housekeeper’s head snapped up suddenly. ‘. . . Wait, you do mean her ladyship, the countess?’

‘No, ma’am. Lady Sibyl’s room.’

Mrs McKenzie looked momentarily stricken as all eyes swivelled towards her. Her head inclined at a small angle as she sat very still.

‘Did I do something wrong, ma’am?’ Fanny asked trepidatiously. ‘Should I remove them?’ She made to get up, but Mrs McKenzie had gathered herself.

‘. . . Not at all. Eat your supper, Fanny. Her ladyship will be resting before dinner and we don’t wish to disturb her.’

Effie frowned as she saw Fanny hesitate, then sit back down and resume eating – but she looked unhappy about it, as though she knew she’d done wrong. Confused, Effie looked up the table to see if anyone else could make sense of what had just happened. She had a sense of an underwater explosion – noise and chaos in the deep but only a few bubbles rising to the surface. She caught Billy’s eyes, which were silently dancing as he wolfed down his supper. He seemed to know exactly what was going on, but would he tell her if she asked?

‘Talking of . . . did anyone read about the BYPs’ latest scandal?’ Jenny asked.

‘At Number Ten the other night? How could we miss it?’ Henry replied.

‘It’s a disgrace,’ Mrs McKenzie muttered, sipping from her glass. ‘Stealing the prime minister’s spectacles.’

‘I don’t think they saw it as stealing, Mrs McKenzie – it was a treasure hunt,’ Jenny said with bright eyes. ‘Besides, I’m sure the PM has another pair.’