‘Heavens, the rain!’ exclaimed Mrs Pyke. ‘We are dreadfully late. Have we missed Mr Barton? Helena is most anxious to see him.’ And Eleanor remembered that this daughter, the second-eldest, was called Helena. This Helena was perhaps a year or two the younger and her cheeks more flushed and her excitement less contained than that of her elder sister.

‘It was because of the baby,’ Mrs Pyke went on. ‘He upset something or other and Nurse got quite cross with him and it was quite a to-do and hence we are late.’

For Mrs Pyke had given her husband a brood of offspring covering a whole range of ages, the youngest of which was but a year old and still in the nursery.

And Alasdair had impregnated two females, thought Eleanor. Two that she knew of.

Eleanor left Mrs Pyke and her daughter to face the almost certain disappointment of having missed Mr Barton’s address and went out into the evening rain.

Eleanor, what child, for God’s sake? Look about you. There is no child. There never has been a child.

Alasdair stood at the window, dazed, and watched as the green-liveried carriage that carried Mrs Rothe and his wife to their engagement turned around and shot back up the hill. It occurred to him that he had forbidden Eleanor to leave the house or to attend any engagement until after the referendum, and yet here she was defying his instructions.

How powerless he was in the face of her opposition. In the face of any woman, if she truly set out to destroy him.

And this raving about a child—his child!—and the maid! It was madness.

But where was Alice? he wondered. He had not seen her all evening and he realised now he had no wish to come face to face with the girl, not after his wife had made such an appalling allegation. The shame of it must, surely, stain any future interaction he had with her.

Dear God.

He was glad, now, that he had permitted Eleanor to attend her meeting. He could show reason in the face of this mania; he could retain the ability for rational thought, even if she—if any female—could not.

Eleanor had left her reticule behind. She had fled the house so abruptly, in such a state of nerves, she had left it on the table. He snatched it up and undid the fastening and turned it upside down. It was empty. Not believing this he thrust his hand inside and felt around. Nothing.