‘I’m glad you approve.’ Alexander shrugged on his coat and ushered them out into the freezing winter air. Their breath curled around their heads, forming clouds that wafted away in the cold east wind. ‘You’d better come to my room so that we can talk, but I warn you it’s not what you’re used to, Rosie.’ He hurried them through the bustling streets to Hanging Sword Alley.

Alexander opened the front door and Rosalind covered her nose and mouth with her hand as the smell of damp, filth and rotten food made her want to retch.

‘Ain’t no one here heard of soap and water and a bit of elbow grease?’ Fletcher said caustically. ‘I wouldn’t keep pigs in this midden.’

‘Very true.’ Alexander led the way up the narrow staircase. ‘No self-respecting pig would want to live here. Take care because some of the treads are in a bad state.’

Rosalind picked up her skirts and followed him, keeping to the wall where there was less damage to the splintered wood. Fletcher came last but as she reached the top she handed part of the banister rail to Alexander.

‘It come away in me hand, guv.’

He laid it on a milking stool that seemed to have been abandoned in the middle of the landing. ‘The whole building is in danger of collapsing. It’s not the sort of place I would wish to bring ladies, but it’s too cold to stand outside for very long.’ He unlocked a door to his right and stepped inside.

Fletched grunted. ‘It’s the first time I’ve been called a lady. Most people ain’t so polite. Anyhow, you got a lot to talk about, I can see that. I’ll look out of the window and admire the view.’ She picked her way across the floor, stepping over discarded boots and empty beer bottles. ‘You could do with a housekeeper, guv.’

‘I apologise for the mess,’ Alexander said humbly. ‘I wasn’t expecting visitors.’

‘Never mind that.’ Rosalind met his gaze with a questioning look. ‘Why, Alex? Why are you working in that dreadful place? Surely you could have found somewhere better to live than here?’

‘I’m sure that Greystone will have told you that I’m not fit for anything else. He seems to have taken a particular interest in my affairs, which is why I couldn’t get anywhere with the War Office.’

‘Are you saying that he used his influence to stop you finding work?’

‘I think he had a hand in it, Rosie. I can’t prove it, of course, but when I returned to London there was a chance that the powers that be could find me something, perhaps even send me out to the Crimea in an advisory capacity.’

‘Why do you think that Greystone had anything to do with them turning you down?’