‘I lost my husband to the sea too. I was married, quite recently, but my husband was taken by a press gang,’ I told her.

Her eyes widened. ‘You poor soul,’ she said. ‘And him too, abducted like that. How cruel. Did you love him dearly?’

‘I did,’ I replied. ‘With all of my heart, but the worst of it was that I then found out that he’d betrayed me with my own sister.’

‘Oh!’ she cried, aghast. ‘What a calamity.’ She perched on the edge of my bed and took my hand. Her hand was cool; mine warm. Her blue eyes searched mine. Her lashes were thick and long, her brows two perfect arches. I was reminded of a doll we used to play with, Joan and I, with a drawn-on face.

‘When I discovered their affair, I got on the first coach out of town,’ I admitted. ‘I took all his savings and I’m going to make a success of my life, I swear it.’

‘Oh, you shall,’ she said. ‘Men are beasts. Beasts. They only want one thing. My Dr McTavish . . .’ Here she paused, thinking of how to phrase it. ‘My Dr McTavish, he’s a dreadful man. Old and nasty and he thinks he can rule me just because he pays me an allowance and gives me laudanum. But I’m the same as you, Mistress Dickson, I want to make my own mark in the world. I can’t wait to get out of this horrible little inn and have my own place – imagine that! – and not have to answer to anyone.’

I nodded, knowing how she felt.

She squeezed my hand.

‘And it gets worse, she went on. The last of the fire sizzled in the grate and the candles flickered. I knew she was about to disclose some great horror. ‘Dr McTavish has me at his mercy,’ she whispered. ‘For what you said before is right: I am heavily reliant on the laudanum. It keeps my nerves in balance. It’s the only thing that’ll do it. Dr McTavish gives me a bottle a week. On top of the allowance. But I do not trust the man. Not as far as I could throw him. Do you remember I told you he was widowed? Well, I suspect he got rid of his wife.’ She paused and stared at me, most theatrically.

‘Got rid of her how?’ I asked.