‘Don’t run, Harriet, it isn’t ladylike. We’re playing draughts,’ said Polly, who was ensconced in Walter’s favourite armchair by the fire. Her hair was loose about her shoulders. The grate was piled high, coals squeaking under a layer of logs. Harriet was relieved to have avoided Sadie who must have been in the room to build the fire moments before. Excitement bubbled through her. Now she had made her decision she must enact it immediately.

Polly surveyed her critically. ‘You may become stuck if this snow decides to settle.’

‘It won’t,’ said Harriet. ‘It’s just a passing flurry.’

She hooked her reticule over her arm so that she could pull on long gloves. She was already wearing a quilted hood and heavy black velvet cape that almost reached the hem of the voluminous and heavily layered skirt that hid her sturdy ankle boots. She was starting to sweat.

‘You shouldn’t go out in this weather. You’re not safe on that foot,’ said Polly. ‘And what are you intending to say to Mr Boothby? Have you considered that? You should beware a man’s wounded pride.’

‘Oh.’ She was tucking her netted hair more firmly under her hood and paused to look at Polly’s reflection through the wall mirror. ‘I’m not going there, Aunt. I should like to avoid a meeting altogether with Mr Boothby. I intend to write a letter. I’m going to Penistone Road.’ A wave of apprehension swept through her body, her stomach clenched, and she exhaled heavily. ‘Silas might refuse me yet. I wouldn’t blame him, but I have to know his answer, this moment, now that I am decided. Millicent knows as well as Louisa where Silas is lodging and where he works, but neither will tell me. I hope I can convince them.’

She turned to look at Polly properly. ‘There should be no shame in this.’

‘But there will be, you know that. Also know that I support you, whatever is the outcome. l shall write to your brother. James might not agree with you, but I do not think he’ll forbid it – he’s busy enough with his own affairs – and I do believe he will protect his sister.’

The pavement was treacherous. Harriet waited impatiently for the timetabled omnibus, keeping her eyes cast down and standing a short distance from the three other gentlemen passengers. When it arrived, the men stepped back and indicated she should board first. She nodded her thanks and found a seat. The straw on the floor of the coach was soaked and the blue upholstery damp to the touch, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now, except finding Silas and begging his forgiveness.

The man sitting opposite smiled back at her and Harriet averted her gaze, turning to look out of the window behind her as the coach stopped to allow off the three gentlemen she had embarked with. It wasn’t far to Penistone Road. She would alight at the next stop.

‘Look at this!’ The woman sitting beside Harriet rapped on the glass.