‘Whose child is it?’

‘You know I cannot answer that.’

We walked on in silence and he handed me in at our door. The things I might have said … I love you, Tom Garth … take me away from this madhouse … take me away from this family.

‘Nellie,’ he said gently, ‘I’m His Majesty’s equerry. I do as I’m asked, no more and no less. Whatever I see, whatever I hear, I forget, and you would do well to do the same.’

I said, ‘And have you done all you were asked to do?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘For now. I shall go home and see to my own business. Bid you good day, Nellie.’

Mrs Chevely was on the stairs. She’d made a caudle of eggs and brandy and was carrying it up to Sofy.

I said, ‘Who chose the Sharlands?’

She put her finger to her lips. There were maids about. The house was starting to wake up.

‘They’re good people,’ she said. ‘To be relied upon. And they’ll be paid well enough.’

Then Ernie Cumberland came slithering out of his hole, dressed but unshaven. He had left off his eye patch. His bad eye was sunken and silvery. Many people thought him handsome in spite of it but he made my skin crawl.

‘All done?’ he said. ‘All squared?’

I said, ‘So that’s why you came, to see everything tidied away.’

‘Had to be done. Couldn’t keep the thing here. You weren’t seen, I hope? And Sharland got his money?’

‘All I did was hand the baby to Mrs Sharland. Garth saw to everything else.’

‘Damned well think so too,’ he said. ‘In the circumstances it was the very least the old goat could do.’

I said, ‘What do you mean? Why should Garth have any obligation?’

He laughed.

He said, ‘Sofy didn’t tell you, then? Give the girl her due, she can keep a secret. But you’re a woman of the world. You can put two and two together.’

Garth. My Garth, not Sofy’s. Ernie’s words hit me so hard I felt I couldn’t breathe and he saw it.

‘But don’t you go gossiping,’ he said. ‘If it gets about I’ll know who’s to blame. What’s done is done and the best kindness you can do Sofy is to forget.’

Well, I didn’t see it that way. I knew how unhappy secrets can devour a person, how I’d longed to tell someone what Enoch Heppenstall had done to me and how I loved Tom Garth. Anyway, I owed Ernie Cumberland nothing. I was determined to hear the truth however much it hurt. Mrs Chevely hardly left Sofy’s side that day. When I did catch her alone, when I cornered her in the upper stair hall and asked if Garth was the boy’s father she simply held up her hand and shook her head.

‘And don’t dare ask Her Royal Highness,’ she said. ‘She’s too weak to be troubled with distressing questions.’

But Sofy wasn’t weak at all. She was rested and greatly reduced and Dr Milman predicted she would be well enough to sit out of bed in a day or two. When Mrs Che left me to read to her for a while I seized my opportunity.

I said, ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I thought I was your friend.’

‘You are, you are,’ she said. ‘And I did want to write to you but you were cross with me and then, after my situation was discovered, I was forbidden to write to anyone. You do see?’ She had turned to Minny first, then Minny confided in Elizabeth and Elizabeth went to the Queen. The Queen had asked only that the matter be dealt with in silence and far away from Windsor and the King.

I said, ‘You know I have to hear it from you. Whose child is it?’

She would not look at me. She said, ‘I think you know.’

‘Ernie hinted at something. It was hard to believe it but I suppose I must, if I hear it from you too.’

‘Oh Nellie,’ she whispered, ‘he told me he loved me. And I know he does love me, in his way. But now I’m ruined.’

Then she cried so much she couldn’t speak, all the tears she’d kept pent up even when she was on her childbed, even when her son was taken away. It didn’t matter. She had said enough.

I fulfilled the rest of my duties with my heart armoured in steel. On August 14th I went to St Mary’s and stood in the shadows to witness the baptism of Thomas Ward, a foundling. Neither Mr Sharland nor the nursemaid appeared to notice me. On August 15th the Royalties arrived from Windsor and took up their summer residence, and on the 16th I was summoned to Gloucester Lodge to admire the spectacle of Princess Charlotte, four years old, being doted upon by her aunts. Only Minny asked how Sofy did.

I said, ‘Come and see for yourself. It’s no distance.’

‘I’d like to,’ she said, ‘but you see the difficulty? Her Majesty doesn’t want the arrangements brought to people’s notice.’

Such was the working of the Queen’s mind. She believed that whatever she chose not to see must be invisible to everyone else.

I said, ‘But you realize the whole town knows?’

‘Does it?’ she said. ‘Yes, I suppose it must. But people don’t speak of it, that’s the main thing, out of consideration for Their Majesties.’

Out of consideration for their own pockets too, for despite the Royalties bringing their own provisions, their presence was still worth a good deal to Weymouth’s tradesmen.

Sofy took her first public airing on the 17th. We walked a short way along the sands. Ernie Cumberland accompanied us and she leaned heavily on his arm. By the 19th she felt strong enough to go a little further.

‘Just with Nellie today,’ she said. ‘I want to hear all about her husband and her new house. I’ve quite neglected her lately.’

I suggested we go as far as the harbour but she had other ideas.

‘Take me to the tailor’s shop,’ she said. ‘I know that’s where he is.’

At first I was afraid to do it. I thought it might set her back and bring on her old spasms, but she was quite resolved, whether I helped her or not, and then it occurred to me that it might put her mind at rest, to see for herself where her son was. Mrs Sharland was in the street, talking to a neighbour. They noticed us approaching and Mrs Sharland ran inside, to close the door, I supposed, and save a painful encounter. But as we drew closer she reappeared and the nursemaid too, with a bundle in her arms. Sofy put on the performance of her life.

‘This is a very young baby,’ she said. ‘What’s his name?’

‘Tommy,’ Mrs Sharland said. ‘He’s two weeks old, ma’am, as far as we can say. He was left on our step and we’ve taken him in, so if ever his mother should come looking for him, she’ll find him where she left him.’

Sofy said, ‘You’re very good.’

She took his little fingers in hers for a moment, then we walked on.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘did you ever see such a handsome child? And strong. Did you see how he gripped my hand? He’ll be a soldier, for certain.’

I said, ‘You managed very well, Sofy.’

‘Did I?’ she said. ‘Yes, I think I did. And it’s all so very convenient. I shall be able to walk this way any time I’m in Weymouth and observe how he grows. Ernie has really arranged things so considerately.’