He coughed politely.

‘What is it, James?’ I asked. My voice sounded tired and listless.

‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I couldn’t help overhearing. It used to break his heart to think of you alone in this den of vipers. You have to find a way to be nice to them. You can’t carry on like this.’ His voice was grave.

I hugged myself. The quiet strength of James seemed to cross the room and calm down my chaotic thoughts and feelings. ‘I know, James. I know I’m not doing myself any favors. Why can’t they see how much I loved him?’

‘It doesn’t matter what they think, Mam. The master always knew.’

I smiled sadly. ‘Yes, he knew.’

He nodded. ‘Can I get you something to drink, Mam? A pot of tea perhaps?’

‘A pot of tea sounds lovely. Thank you, James.’

‘Very good, Mam.’ He bowed in that old-fashioned way of his. I never thought man-servants like him existed outside of books. In fact, when I first came to this house, it shocked me to learn that he carefully ironed any little creases out of the morning newspapers before he brought it up to Robert. He was already at the door when I opened my mouth and called to him.

He turned around, his expression polite and helpful. ‘Yes, Mam.’

‘Thank you. Thank you for everything you did for Robert,’ I said.

His expression softened. ‘It was an honor to serve Mr. Maxwell.’

I bit my lip. ‘You will stay on, won’t you, James?’

He allowed himself a small smile. ‘I’d be delighted to, Mam.’

‘Thank you.’ I almost cried out with relief. I needed people around me I could trust. The last time I felt this vulnerable was when my mom died and I was all alone in a trailer and medical bills I could not pay. At that time, I had run away from my past, my debts, my pain. I had come to England and found Robert.

‘If you are agreeable I will take upon myself the task of informing the staff of Mr. Maxwell’s passing.’

I exhaled. ‘Yes, thank you. That would be very helpful,’ I said in acceptance of his kind offer.

He paused.

‘What?’ I prompted.

‘It would be prudent for you to inform Lord Greystoke as soon as possible,’ he said quietly.

I felt every cell in my body shrink at the thought.

‘It is what Mr. Maxwell would have expected.’

I nodded slowly. ‘Yes, you are right. Of course I will. I’ll call him right now.’

‘I’ll go and see about your tea.’

When his footsteps died away I walked up to the phone. I knew Ivan De Greystoke’s number by heart. Robert had forced me to memorize it.

‘He is the only one you can trust. No one else is to be trusted. No matter how nice they seem to be,’ he said again and again.

I dialed his Ivan’s number and waited nervously. Some part of me hoped he was asleep and I could just leave a message on his answer phone, but he picked up my call on the third ring.

‘Is he gone?’ His voice was business-like and abrupt. It was so late, I must have pulled him out of bed, and yet he sounded so wide-awake, so unyieldingly hard.

‘Yes,’ I whispered, my hands gripping the telephone hard.

‘I’d like a word with the doctor. Put him on,’ he instructed. No sorry for your loss, or any kind of platitude for the grieving widow.

I closed my eyes. ‘Dr. Jensen left a little while ago.’

Even across the distance I felt his displeasure and irritation. I could imagine exactly the forbidding expression on the most arrogant, aristocratically chiseled, granite-like face I ever had the misfortune to meet. The only redeeming feature in his firmly set, hard face were the surprisingly full and sensuous lips.