‘I’ll be fine once I’ve slept.’

Vincent knew how my rest had been disturbed. I had dreamt of the Leopard Lady and woken up whimpering. But she was not alone in my dreams. I was there with her. Sometimes I was her. And when I woke, I remembered what Lucien Winters had said: Mark me, Zillah. I want you to think about tonight. About the part you play. He’d said he would save me and I had laughed at him. Now it was all beginning to make more sense. I did need him – not for me, but for her. For all that I remained wary of the strange power he seemed to have over me, I realised it was time to pay him another visit.

‘I haven’t forgotten about Richmond,’ Vincent said, and I blushed to be caught thinking of another man when the one I thought I’d been falling in love with was making plans for us.

The chance to listen in while Vincent and Crillick played billiards was too good to pass up. Once I knew Crillick was home and had had the time to wash and eat, I tiptoed along to the billiard room. Sure enough, I was rewarded. Inside I could hear them talking and, better yet, they’d left the door a touch ajar.

The clack of billiard balls told me they were in the midst of their game. Sometimes their voices were closer, sometimes further as they moved around the table to take their shots. It was Eustace who had taught me how to play most games. As children we liked cards – whist, Écarté and Loo – but billiards was a gentleman’s game. It wasn’t until Vincent that I’d been introduced to it.

Of all the places in the house, the billiard room was most clearly Crillick’s, but while he was away Vincent had taken me in there for the first time, determined that I would learn the game and help stave off his boredom after dinner. It was a small room, all dark wood and furnishings, the only spot of colour the big table with its felted green top. Vincent’s attempt to teach me had failed, but we’d enjoyed it. How much better it had been without Crillick in our lives.

I pushed the door open a little wider so I was able to see in without giving myself away. My view wasn’t perfect – I could only see one end of the billiard table – but that didn’t matter; the most important thing was to hear what they said. Here was Vincent, though. I enjoyed the sight of his lean figure stretched across the table. ‘Are you happy with how it went last night?’ he was saying to Crillick as he leant low over his cue to line up a shot.