“There is little I can add to it. Lilith Montgomery was shaken by the loss of the young witch, but she behaved as was expected. The inauguration was completed. The Robe of Office conferred. The vows taken. The Lazarus Coven has its new Head Witch. She was convincing in her composure, despite what had happened.” He takes out his pocket watch and checks the time. “If the girl is, as you insist, a worthy successor to her father, she will guard the Elixir with as much fervor as he did, and no doubt frustrate our plans at every turn if…”

“… if the Sentinels do not see to it that this time, things are different. That this time, the Coven of Lazarus is, once and for all, put to the sword.” Stricklend examines the fingernails of his left hand closely. “Do not lose sleep over what you saw the girl overcome in that chamber,” he says. “She may have proved herself to be a witch of note, but I intend to see to it that the most memorable thing about her tenure is that she is recorded as being the very last witch of Fitzroy Square.”

*   *   *

Two days later I find myself speeding toward Mangan’s house. I am in Charlotte’s carriage, as I accompany her on her first appointment with him. She is understandably excited at the prospect of meeting the famous artist and being sculpted by him, and she chatters on happily, requiring little from me by way of reply. I stare out at the streets. This time they are bustling with people. Ordinary people living their ordinary lives, going about their business. I find I envy them the apparent simplicity of their existence.

I become aware that Charlotte has stopped speaking and is looking at me intently.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte, what did you say?”

“My goodness, Lily, you are a thousand miles away this morning. Are you quite well?”

“Just a little tired,” I tell her, and for the hundredth time I experience the sadness of keeping such secrets from my dear friend. “I slept badly.”

“Hardly surprising. You must have all sorts of things racing around in your head, poor you. And all of it to do without your own lady’s maid. Fancy Violet bolting like that. And the way simply everyone over the age of thirty insists on droning on about war being around the corner. I mean to say, what are we supposed to do about it? And of course you must miss your papa dreadfully. And I know how you worry about your mama and Freddie. And the constant wondering about when to marry Louis…”

Despite myself, I cannot help laughing. “Charlotte, you are incorrigible.”

“No point beating about the bush. The man’s utterly in love with you, and you make such a lovely couple. A wedding would cheer us all up, you know it would.”

“Have you been talking to my mother?”