But then James arrived with her orchid delivery one bright morning in July and she invited him to tea as usual. She was secretly glad she’d worn her day-dress with the Turkish sleeves and cream silk and cannelé stripes, as it was certainly one of her most fetching, to say nothing of the elegant ostrich plumes adorning her bonnet. But, irksomely, something seemed different about James from the moment he entered the house that day.

‘You seem distracted this morning,’ she finally remarked, a little peevishly.

‘Do I?’ He looked up at her.

‘I should say so. You haven’t even remarked upon my new clockwork canary.’ She indicated the bird in the corner of the room.

His response was swift. ‘How inexcusable. The bird is marvellous, of course, like everything you create. I would have remarked upon it at once, but there is another matter on my mind.’

It wasn’t like James to be preoccupied in her presence, and Rosa was immediately curious as to what had stolen his attention away from her. ‘Is it something I might be able to help with?’ she ventured.

He smiled briefly. ‘Oh, indeed. I dare say you can resolve the matter one way or another in an instant. But I wonder, do you think it’s ever worth asking a question if you already know the answer?’

Rosa frowned, puzzled. ‘If you already know the answer, then what would be the point of asking the question?’ she asked.

‘Quite.’ James gave a half-smile that turned quickly into a grimace. ‘And yet … I cannot seem to escape the conviction that sometimes it’s important to ask the hopeless question regardless. Perhaps you owe it to the peace of mind of your future self. And certainly you must owe it to those who are no longer here and so do not have the privilege of being able to pursue their own happiness.’

‘James, you know I adore talking to you usually, but I’m afraid I’m simply not following a word,’ Rosa said. She was starting to feel rather annoyed. It wasn’t like him to ramble, and she’d been looking forward to discussing the clockwork canary with him today.

‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘I’m making a terrible mess of this, but I doubt it will matter much in the end. Please allow me to make myself perfectly clear.’

He took something from the covered Wardian case at his feet and then, to Rosa’s astonishment, went down on one knee in front of her, holding up a single flower. It was a galaxy orchid, speckling the room with the gentle silver-spangled shine of starlight. Rosa gasped. That type of orchid was extraordinarily rare and quite priceless, keenly coveted by orchid collectors all over the world.

‘James, what on earth—’ she began.