She gave me a nod of satisfaction, then bustled off again. Everyone fell upon tea with enthusiasm, then we didn’t do much before dinner apart from tackling a large jigsaw puzzle of a Dutch skating scene. Ethel and her mother were wearing gorgeous new dresses for dinner—Schiaparelli, if I was not mistaken—and I noticed Badger’s eyes light up when she came into the room. Perhaps the investment in this house party would pay off for the Upthorpes and they would get their daughter married into the upper classes. I put the subject of marriage firmly from my mind. It was too worrying to consider.

After the previous night’s simple curry dinner, this was a lavish affair, befitting a grand house party. Smoked salmon followed by a rich oxtail soup and then pheasant for the main course.

“What kind of bird is this?” Mr. Wexler asked, prodding it with his fork.

“I was so disappointed that I couldn’t provide you with goose for Christmas Day that I decided to make up for it with pheasant,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said. “Truly the most delicious of the game birds, I always think.”

Nobody argued with that—the meat swimming in a dark brown gravy with mushrooms and tiny onions around it and thin crisps of potato to accompany it. We ate in near silence. The pheasant was followed by an apple crumble and clotted cream, then a local strong cheddar and biscuits. We passed a quiet evening playing records on the gramophone and one or two of us made an attempt at dancing.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to dance tomorrow at the ball,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said.

I went to bed and fell asleep straight away. I woke to see the moon shining on me and realized that I needed to face the long walk to the lavatory at the end of the corridor. As I came out of my room I stopped, staring down the hallway ahead of me. A figure in white appeared to be floating slowly down the dark hall. I wondered if this was a Gorzley ghost that nobody had seen fit to mention. Having grown up at Castle Rannoch, I wasn’t particularly scared of ghosts. We had plenty of them in the family, including my grandfather’s ghost playing the bagpipes on the ramparts—an apparition I hadn’t personally experienced. I crept silently behind the figure until I could see it was a woman with long dark hair spilling over the shoulders of a white nightgown.