She’d thought the love she felt had been big, and powerful, and terrifying before, but that was nothing compared to these waves that felt like they could sweep her away entirely. She would give up her whole soul to make Ada happy. She would do anything to keep her safe. And she would do the same for her lost sister too.

The orchid showed off its impossible colours there at the edge of her vision, and it no longer mattered that the Winter Garden competition was the slimmest of slim chances. She would grab it with both hands.

‘We’ll enter that competition, won’t we?’ she said to Ada. ‘And we’ll win it. For Esme.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

January 1838

The Duchess of Chalkley is at the front door, my lady,’ the footman said, presenting a card on a silver dish. He was impeccably trained and looked quite unbothered by the fact that there was a frog perched on the toe of his polished boot, and another steadily making its way up his trouser leg.

Recently Beatrice had taken to wandering the gardens of Half Moon House, despite the thick snow that lay upon the ground and the icy frost that glittered on the bare branches of the trees. The specimens she’d brought back from abroad had required a lot of work to settle them into their new home in England, and Beatrice was anxious to ensure that all was well before she returned abroad. Today she had put on her pale-blue winter cloak, lined in warm mink fur, and had come out to the newly created frog pond.

She looked up from this now, surprised. She had written several letters to Rosa since learning about her daughter’s death, but her friend had not replied to any of them. Recalling how she had felt in the time after the loss of her own mother, Beatrice had guessed that Rosa might wish to be left alone, so in her final letter she had simply said that she would give her space, but would be very happy to hear from her any time she felt ready.

‘Sh-show her into the h-house,’ Beatrice said quickly. ‘Actually, n-no, b-bring her h-here. And ask M-Mrs Hamble to s-send a t-tea t-tray to the s-study.’

‘Very good, madam.’

The footman delicately removed the frogs with pristine gloves before going to fetch Rosa. He returned with her a few minutes later, a clockwork raven perched on her shoulder. Her Paris carriage dress had been dyed black for mourning, but she still looked very modern compared to Beatrice in her old-fashioned gown. Rosa’s golden hair shone brightly against her black cloak, but she had deep, dark circles under her eyes and was much thinner than the last time Beatrice had seen her – almost gaunt. A shadow of her former self.