We made a bit of ground while Perry considered this, nearly as far as the first landing. But Perry grabbed at the banister and turned to explain to me. ‘He was his son, you see,’ he said.

I nodded. ‘I know, Perry,’ I said soothingly. We got hold of him again and started the ascent up to the next landing.

‘I am too,’ Perry said sadly. ‘It just didn’t seem so important.’

I was watching his feet in the expensive boots. He was half-walking, half-dragged by us.

‘Papa always said I looked like Mama. Not like him,’ he said. ‘He said I looked like a girl. He used to call me little Miss Peregrine.’

This time it was me who stopped, it cost us a few steps downwards.

‘What?’ I said.

‘He called me Pretty Miss Peregrine,’ Perry said. ‘I never got the feeling he really liked me. Sent me away to school when I was six. Never had me home for the holidays when he was there. All over the place I was. Scotland, London, even France one holiday. Never home with him and George.’ The tears had overflowed and his face was wet. ‘Once George and Papa were dead I thought it would be different,’ he said. ‘But I suppose I just don’t look like a lord.’

‘You do!’ I said fiercely. ‘You do look like a lord. You look like an angel, Perry. You are the best-looking man I know. And if you could stay sober you would be a really good man.’

‘You think so?’ Perry looked a little brighter. ‘Well, I think I might be.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But I’d rather be a drunk,’ he said.

We were at his bedroom door now and the maid and I pushed him through.

‘Should we take his boots off?’ I asked her.

She dipped me a curtsey. ‘Please’m, I’m not allowed in the bedrooms,’ she said.

‘That’s all right,’ I said. I was weary with the conventions of this house, of this life where a six-year-old boy could be sent away to school and never allowed home again. ‘You can go now.’

I put my hand in my pocket and found a sixpenny piece. ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Thank you for helping.’

Her eyes widened, and I suddenly remembered how far sixpence could go if you were just a young girl like this one. Like the two of us had been.

She went out and closed the door behind her, and I set to work on Perry’s boots. By the time I had them off he was lying on his back and tears were seeping out from under his closed eyelids. When I sat on the bed beside him he turned his head to me and buried it in my lap.

‘I’ll never love anyone like I love George,’ he said sorrowfully. ‘I wish he was still here, and then I wouldn’t have to be a lord any more. I wouldn’t have to get married or have an heir, or anything.’

I stroked his blond curls and twisted one perfect circle around my index finger.

‘I know,’ I said gently. ‘I miss someone too.’

His grip around my waist tightened, and I could feel his shoulders shaking as he sobbed.

‘Sarah,’ he said, his voice muffled. ‘Oh God, Sarah, get me out of this mess. I seem to be more and more unhappy every day and nothing helps.’

‘There,’ I said helplessly. I patted his shoulder and stroked his back as if he were a little boy crying from some secret hurt.

‘I’ve got to take Papa’s place and everyone knows I’m not good enough,’ he said. He lifted his head and looked at me. His eyes were red from weeping and from the drink. ‘I’ve got to take George’s place and no one will ever love me like they loved George,’ he said.

I put my hand up to cup his cheek. ‘I will,’ I said. I hardly knew what I was saying. My grief for her, and my sorrow and my loneliness at the emptiness of the life we were all living seemed to well up inside me and call that there should be love between us. That at least Perry and I could be kind to one another. That here was a man suffering like a little child, and that he was brought so low that even I, with my own pain and failure, could help him.

‘Don’t grieve, Perry,’ I said gently. ‘I can care for you. We’ll not be here much longer and then we can go home and live near Wideacre together. People will forget George, they will forget your papa. We’ll run the estate well together and people will see what a good man you can be. Even your mama will be pleased when she sees how well you can run the estate.’

‘She will?’ he asked, as trusting as a child.

‘Oh yes,’ I said. ‘We will both learn together. You’ll see. We’ll be happy in the end.’

He let me press him back gently to the pillow, and pull the coverlet over him. He closed his eyes but he held on tight to my hand.

‘Don’t leave me,’ he said.

I held his hand firmly. ‘I won’t,’ I said.

‘Don’t ever leave me, Sarah,’ he said pitifully, then his grip on my hand loosened and in minutes he was asleep and snoring. I remembered a friend of Da’s, who had choked on his vomit and I turned Perry’s young face to one side on the fine linen pillow so that he was not lying on his back. Then I tiptoed to the door and went softly downstairs and out of the front door where Sea’s ears went forward at seeing me.

The groom lifted me into the saddle and we headed for the park, riding in silence. As I moved instinctively with Sea, and checked him when a top-heavy wagon swayed past us, too close, I thought of Perry. I thought of him with such a great tenderness and pity. I thought of him with love, and sympathy. And a tiny little part of me spoke with the voice of the hard-faced gypsy who was always there, in the back of my mind. That voice said, ‘This is a weakling and a fool.’

He was still asleep when I got back, but Lady Clara’s maid was walking up the stairs with her ladyship’s pot of hot chocolate.

‘I’ll take that,’ I said impulsively, and carried it in.

Lady Clara was awake, she smiled when she saw me.

‘Why Sarah! Good morning! How nice to see you so early! How very strong you do smell of horse! My dear, do go over to the window and air yourself a little!’

‘I am sorry,’ I said, immediately confused. ‘It may be my boots.’

‘Of course it may,’ she said agreeably. ‘But don’t mention it. I am sure the rugs will wash.’

I flushed scarlet. ‘Don’t tease me, Lady Clara,’ I said. ‘Are you telling me I should not have come?’

She smiled. ‘No,’ she said. ‘You are welcome, even smelling of hunter. Ring for another cup and tell me why you have come to see me so early.’

I waited until the maid had brought up another cup, and poured the chocolate, and brought Lady Clara the morning’s post, and taken herself off, and then I took a deep breath and started.

‘It’s about Perry,’ I said.

Lady Clara’s blue gaze at me was clear and guileless.

‘Did he not come home last night?’ she asked coolly. ‘Is he drunk? Or gambling?’

‘No!’ I exclaimed. ‘I found him on the doorstep this morning. He got himself home but he is dead drunk.’

She nodded and gestured to me to pour her another cup.

‘His drinking is getting worse and worse,’ I said. ‘And he seems to be very unhappy. I can’t help thinking that this town life is very bad for him. He should have some occupation. All he does every day is ride with me in the afternoon and then go out every night. He does nothing else.’

‘There is nothing else,’ Lady Clara pointed out. ‘He is leading the life of a young gentleman of pleasure. What do you want him to do, Sarah? Steer a plough? Take up silk weaving?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But he drank less when he was down at Havering. It is making him ill, Lady Clara. He is paler and thinner all the time. I have seen men very bad with drink. I would not like that to happen to Perry.’

She looked suddenly alert. ‘Not before there was an heir, certainly,’ she said.

I scrutinized her face. She was not speaking in jest. She meant it.

‘What?’ I said blankly.

‘Not “what”,’ she said instantly.

‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I meant to say: I beg your pardon?’

She nodded. ‘If Perry died without an heir then the whole estate would go to my late husband’s brother, a commander in the Navy,’ she said. ‘I would have only the Havering Dower House, which is in all but ruins, and you would have to look about yourself for another husband who would let you run your land as you please.’

I gaped at her. ‘You talk as if you don’t care for Perry at all,’ I said.

Lady Clara lowered her gaze to the embroidered coverlet on her bed.

‘That hardly matters,’ she said coldly.

‘He’s your son!’ I exclaimed.

She looked up at me and her face was smiling but the smile was not in her eyes. ‘That means little or nothing,’ she said. ‘When he comes of age he will command my fortune. Of course I want him settled in a way that suits me, of course I want him alive and well married. Of course I do not love him. He is a feckless selfish child; but in four years’ time he will be my master. Of course I cannot love him.’

‘He says you loved George,’ I accused. ‘He thinks you never loved him, he thinks you loved George.’

She shrugged her broad white shoulders. ‘Not especially,’ she said. Then she looked at my aghast face and she smiled. ‘You and I are not unalike, Sarah,’ she said. ‘We both came to a life of wealth having known another life, a less comfortable one. We are both cold women. I think neither of us could afford the luxury of passion for a man, nor loving any other living thing. I quite like all my children, I see their faults but I do quite like them. I am quite fond of you. I respected and obeyed my husband. But I never forgot that I lived in a world where women are bought and sold. I swore that when my husband died – and I chose an old man for my husband in the hope that he would die before me – I would never marry again. I would be free. I wanted to be free of the control of men.’

She paused and looked at me. ‘It was for that reason that I wanted to help you be free of Mr Fortescue,’ she said. ‘Your way out is marriage, Sarah. Marriage to a weakling like Perry! If you want to keep him sober and industrious in the country I think you will be able to do that. If you want to buy him off and send him away, you can: he is very biddable. He won’t trouble you. And as long as my allowance is paid you will have no trouble from me.’

She broke off and smiled at me, her eyes were like ice. ‘Why do you look at me as if I were some kind of a monster, Sarah? Did you think I was a loving mama? Did you think I doted on him? Is this a great shock to you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said feebly. ‘I thought that people were hard to each other when they were needy. When I was with working people I thought they were hard then because there was never enough money. Never any time to love each other, to think about what would make people happy, to share. I thought it would be different for the Quality.’

Lady Clara laughed, her pretty musical laugh. ‘No,’ she said frankly. ‘There is not enough money for the Quality either. We live in a world where money is the measure of everything. There is never enough money. However much you have, you always want more.’

‘I want to take Perry back to Havering,’ I said.

Lady Clara nodded. ‘You’ll have to marry him then,’ she said. ‘I shan’t leave town in the Season to chaperone the two of you playing at milkmaids.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘I’d like to bring the marriage plans forward. We can marry as soon as the contracts are ready, and live in the country.’

She smiled at me, kindly. ‘If that’s your wish, Sarah,’ she said. ‘But it’s a cruel world in the countryside too.’

‘Not on Wideacre,’ I said with sudden pride, thinking of Will and the way the profits were shared.

‘No,’ she agreed. ‘At Wideacre it is hard only for the owner! And you are determined to end all that.’

‘Yes,’ I said, uncertainly. ‘I am.’

She smiled and beckoned me over to her bedside. I went to stand before her and she reached up and patted my cheek.

‘Don’t fret,’ she said. ‘Talk to Perry. If he wants to go back to the country with you and he wants to bring the marriage forward then I am agreeable. But leave your thoughts about Wideacre alone until you know a little more about running the estate, Sarah. They are not sharing with you, remember. They are taking from you. It is you who are giving there.’

‘Yes,’ I said. I dropped her a curtsey and went towards the door.

‘They are thieves wrapped up pretty,’ she said softly. ‘All their ideas, all their sharing is being paid for by you. They are playing Mr Fortescue, they are playing you. You are being gulled, Sarah.’

My shoulders slumped. My moment’s certainty, my moment’s faith in a world which was not harsh and uncaring was eroded at once. ‘Yes,’ I said again. ‘I shall stop it when Wideacre is my own.’