Octavia pieced this all together from what she learned in her first week at Wychford. Not from Lisette, who tended to be somewhat reserved, but from her sister. Discretion was not a word in Pip’s vocabulary. Once she had decided that Miss Petrie was a friend, she confided everything she knew of her family’s affairs quite freely.

      One fine autumnal afternoon, after a morning’s work in the schoolroom, Octavia and Pip were walking in the woods behind the house. Lisette had stayed behind to finish a book she was reading.

      ‘You know, Miss Petrie, I think Uncle Henry was quite glad when Aunt Julia broke her leg,’ announced Pip.

      Shocked, Octavia stopped short and looked at her. ‘What was that?’ she asked.

      ‘I said that I think Uncle Henry was glad Aunt Julia had broken her leg,’ Pip repeated patiently.

      ‘But that’s a dreadful thing to say, Pip! How could he be?’

      ‘It meant that he had to stay behind to look after her. Uncle Henry didn’t want to come to England, you know, and Aunt Julia’s broken leg meant he had to stay in Antigua a bit longer.’

      ‘But…I’m not sure I understand. If your Uncle Henry was so reluctant to leave the West Indies, why was it necessary for him to come at all? Surely your Aunt Julia and Uncle Edward would have been enough?’

      ‘That’s what Uncle Henry wanted. But Aunt Julia wouldn’t hear of it. She said Edward couldn’t be trusted to do the thing properly without the rest of the family to keep an eye on him.’

      ‘Tell me, if you call your uncle “Edward”, why don’t you call your aunt “Julia”?’

      ‘Oh, we couldn’t! She’s much older than he is! She looks a bit like Miss Froom.’

      ‘Really?’ Octavia was surprised. Older than he was, and looking a bit like Miss Froom? It seemed a most unlikely wife for Edward Barraclough.

      Pip went on, ‘She and Edward don’t like each other very much. It’s easy to tell when people don’t. They’re always extremely polite to each other.’

      Octavia pulled herself together and decided it was more than time for a proper governess to stem these confidences. ‘Philippa, you should not tell me such things. What happens between husband and wife is not for the outside world to know.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Pip looked puzzled at first, then bent over in a fit of giggles. ‘Miss Petrie! You don’t think…You don’t think Aunt Julia is married to Edward, do you?’

      ‘Of course I do! Isn’t he?’

      Pip went off into another paroxysm of giggles. ‘He’d rather die! He said so! Aunt Julia is Uncle Henry’s wife! And I once heard Edward telling Papa that he would never know why Uncle Henry had married such a sour-faced prune!’

      Octavia bit her lip and managed to say severely, ‘Philippa! You must not, you really must not, repeat things like that, especially not to me! I’m sure your uncle would be very vexed to know that you had heard his words, and even angrier to know you were repeating them! Or even talking about him at all!’

      ‘Would he?’

      ‘Of course he would!’

      ‘Then I won’t say any more. I like Edward. But let me tell you this one thing. He isn’t married, Miss Petrie. Lisette is sorry for him. She thinks he must have a broken heart, but I think that’s rubbish. Some of the prettiest ladies in Antigua made a fuss of him, but he never paid them any attention. I was glad, I didn’t like any of them much. I want him to marry someone nice.’ She looked confidingly up at Octavia. ‘You would do very well, Miss Petrie. I’d like Edward to marry you. You’ll have to set your cap at him.’

      Octavia gasped. What would the child say next? Choking back another urge to burst into laughter, she said sternly, ‘That’s enough! You must never let me hear you use such a vulgar expression again, Philippa! Where on earth did you pick it up?’

      ‘What’s wrong with it?’

      ‘To accuse someone of setting her cap at someone is not at all the thing. It’s not only vulgar, it’s unkind. You mustn’t use the expression.’

      ‘Edward used it. When we were talking about governesses. He said he didn’t want some pretty flibberty-gibbet whose sole aim was to set her cap at the first eligible bachelor who happened along. I don’t think he meant himself, though he’s very rich, you know. Lots of people have set their—’ Pip caught sight of Octavia’s frown and corrected herself. ‘Have tried to make him like them. Why don’t you want to?’

      Repressing a mad impulse to tell the child that Edward Barraclough would be the last man she would ever consider, Octavia forced herself to think as a real governess would. The child’s capacity for verbatim reporting was amazing, but she would have to be taught to keep such things to herself. ‘I can see that you’ve been left to your own devices for too long, my girl!’ she said firmly. ‘You need a little discipline. Oh, don’t look like that! I’m not a Miss Froom. But you’ll have to learn to keep gossip and the things people say when they’re not thinking strictly to yourself. It’s called good manners.’

      Pip sighed. ‘I’ll try to do as you say, but it’s very hard. Lisette thinks Edward needs a wife, and you would be so suitable! I’d like you for my aunt—you’re much nicer than Aunt Julia.’

      ‘Philippa! What have I just said?’

      ‘That I mustn’t gossip. But that wasn’t gossip, it was just an opinion! You would be good for Edward! You’re prettier than any of the ladies in Antigua. And much prettier than the lady he visits in London. Though he must like her a lot. He gives her lots of presents.’

      Octavia gasped. What else would the child come out with? And what had Edward Barraclough been thinking of to let her see him with someone who, from the sound of it, was quite possibly his mistress?

      ‘I assure you, Philippa, that even if it were possible I would not consider marrying your uncle under any circumstances whatsoever!’ she said emphatically. ‘And we shall now finish this conversation and return to the house, where you will spend the rest of the afternoon improving your mind! Come!’

      They turned to go back. Edward Barraclough was just walking towards them. He was only a few yards away, and looking more than usually sardonic. He could not have helped overhearing what she had just said.

      ‘Mr Barraclough!’ Octavia felt her face grow scarlet as she stammered, ‘We didn’t see you, sir…’

      ‘Edward!’ Pip launched herself at her uncle. ‘We thought you were in London! What are you doing here?’

      ‘Looking for Lisette. I have a letter from Antigua for her, but I couldn’t find her in the house. I thought she would be with you, Miss Petrie.’

      With a considerable effort Octavia mastered her confusion and said politely, ‘Is she not in her room, sir? We left her there reading.’

      ‘She isn’t there now. I suggest you find her as speedily as you can. How long is it since you left her to her own devices?’

      Octavia coloured again,