‘I know I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but Claudine isblackmailingMother, I am sure of it. There is some sort of secret, about Mother. Claudine had sent her something that looked like an official document, but Mother tore it up – I found a few scraps with Mother’s name on, and a few letters – I didn’t understand it at all, but I’ve never seen Mother look like that. It frightened me.’
Leo hesitates, turning the freshly starched collar in his hands. ‘You’re quite serious about this?’
‘I am.’
‘Surely it is some sort of misunderstanding. If you only hear half a conversation, you’re sure to invent a dozen mysteries tomake sense of it.’
‘I heard it all, Leo. And just now I found Mother spying on Lydia and Odette – I think that must be what Claudine is using her for. I hoped it was all a fuss over nothing, like you said, but – but I don’t think it is.’
‘You haven’t spoken to Mother about it?’
Cecilia does not dignify this with an answer.
‘Yes, I suppose that would be impossible. Why are you telling me?’
‘I thought you might help.’
‘By doing what, precisely? Having it out with them?’
‘No – don’t say anything to anyone. But this document she sent Mother. There must be something in it.’
‘What do you want me to do, go hunting through every official document in London – Lord, the whole country? It could be anything.’
‘I know that. But you are far cleverer than me – surely you must have some idea where to begin. It is a secret about our family, about Mother in particular. In the row, Claudine said Lydia had told her about it so that must make it a secret from when she was still in the country. Doesn’t that narrow it down?’
The flattery mollifies him. ‘And then what?’ he asks. ‘What do you want to do with the information, if I find it?’
‘I don’t know if we need to do anything with it, but at least we won’t be caught unawares.’
Cecilia is determined to know what it is Claudine holds over them. The truth is that she is frightened of her. Frightened of the way Claudine behaves towards Odette. Of the way she has taken over Herne House.
‘I confess I cannot resist a tantalising mystery. Though it is quite hopeless a task – you know that?’
‘So you’ll help?’ says Cecilia eagerly.
‘Yes, all right. But I can’t promise I’ll find anything. It’s lessthe proverbial haystack I’m looking in than half the fields in England.’
Cecilia throws her arms around her brother in honest relief. ‘Thank you.’
‘Steady on.’ Leo removes her arms, but he is smiling. ‘Don’t get so girly about it all.’
She wonders if she is laying it on too thick, but Leo doesn’t seem to notice, fixing his collar in place with its studs and whistling a tune off-key.
There. That is something. Whatever it is Claudine plans, Cecilia will have some insurance against it.
3
Odette
IT ISODETTE’S NINETEENTH BIRTHDAY, and she spends it in much the same way as she has for more years than she can count.
Herne House is busy about its own work, as on any day. George entertains his circle, the servants go to their work, mayflies cloud above the standing water, and the wind moves through the willow trees and the peonies. Cecilia wakes her early with kisses pressed across her face and whispers in her ear of a surprise later. The perfect line of Cecilia’s throat, the dip of her clavicle, tempts Odette to linger in bed, and she lets her finger drift over the curve of Cecilia’s shoulder, the swell of her breast below thin linen and the crest of her nipple. There will be time for that, later.
Then she is summoned to her mother’s studio.
Lydia is already up and busy when Odette comes in. She has a trailing shawl flung about her shoulders and before her is a mess of half-used tubes of paint, brushes, pencils, caked palettes, all spread about a fresh canvas. TheElainepainting is gone from centre stage, leant up against a wall with its back to the room. Lydia is ragged around the edges, the colour too flushed in her cheeks.
‘Should you not be resting?’
