‘Oh, dear, excuse me a moment.’ Harriet ran down the corridor and into the kitchen where she poured a glass of water and brought it back. What had Walter meant about London? She wondered whether he had some plan for her he was yet to reveal. But why tell Silas? He was clearly displeased to find Silas in his house. She did not want to believe her uncle had lied to discourage him. She would put it out of her mind.

On re-entering the parlour, Harriet had half-expected, and was dreading, to find Silas gone, but he was still there, standing in the middle of the room, like a miracle, but looking somewhat helpless. She smiled at him warmly. Walter stood at the window, wiping his mouth with his handkerchief. ‘My uncle has been unwell ever since… well, ever since.’

She handed Walter the glass and he took it with a nod of thanks and pointed to the street. ‘I see Mr Boothby’s carriage arriving.’

‘Oh! Oh yes.’ Harriet was dismayed. She had temporarily forgotten about the jaunt she was to take with Mr Boothby. Then the idea came to her and the words were out of her mouth before she had time to think about them. ‘Come with us, Silas, today.’ Impulsively, she reached for his hand. The trip was now an altogether more pleasant prospect; Mr Boothby would just have to make the best of it.

Silas’s fingers entwined with hers and a thrill coursed through her. She pulled away, feeling a moment’s resistance from him, and met his eyes, which were merry. She wondered if he could hear the deafening thump of her heart or see the fluttering pulse in her neck.

‘Where are you going?’ he said.

Harriet collected herself. ‘To the botanical gardens, with a picnic. There’s plenty of food to go around.’ She paused. ‘Unless you are busy.’

‘That sounds grand, miss, I’d be glad to.’

‘I already said I should be pleased if you would call me Harriet.’

Walter collapsed abruptly on a chair. She could see he was trying to control his breathing, a handkerchief balled in his fist. He coughed into it, a horrible choking cough. When he took the handkerchief away from his mouth, the white linen was flecked with blood.

Chapter 25

Silas peered into the bear pit. It was empty.

‘We had a black bear. Bruin was his name.’

Silas, Harriet and the three boys all turned to see who had spoken. A skinny, middle-aged man in a flat cap was trundling a wooden cart filled with pots of seedlings towards them. Silas smiled at him.

‘What ’appened to Bruin?’ he said.

‘Well, he were a layabout by all accounts. Got replaced by two brown bears, but they weren’t no fun either, just sat in the bottom there, when they could be bothered to come out. I am told we had a bear that did leap about, even managed to climb out.’ He patted the top of the wall and winked at the boys. ‘The story is the man who had this job before me gave it a biscuit and scarpered. There were some lady visitor thought she had a way wi’ animals and went after it, but she weren’t taking account of the size of the claws on the bloody thing and it ripped ’er to shre—’