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“Ah, it was all part of my grand plan—as much as I wanted to call you the minute I disembarked at Southampton, I was trying to keep a secret, and I made sure anyone who knew I was here in London had sworn on their life not to let the cat out of the bag.”

“What cat? Oh, this doesn’t make sense, James.”

“It will when you see your surprise.”

“I think this is all a surprise. Anything more would constitute a shock.” She allowed herself to be embraced again. “And what about those?” She nodded towards the packages.

“Just a few things I thought you’d like, Maisie. Don’t worry, nothing extravagant; a few bits and pieces to bring a smile to your face.” He looked at his watch. “There was something else I wanted to show you, but I think it will have to wait until tomorrow morning now—too dark outside.”

“This sounds very suspicious.”

“Just a surprise. Now then, shall we load these up in the back of your motor car? We’ll stop somewhere for supper, then deliver them to your flat. Do you still have the guest you wrote about?”

“No, I don’t, and I’m worried about her—oh, James, so much has happened since you left.”

“And I suppose you can’t tell me the half of it.” He gathered up the parcels, handing several smaller ones to Maisie to carry.

“I can tell you more about Sandra, but not about my other job.”

“Other job?”

“I shouldn’t have said that much. It’s an official secret.”

James wanted to linger over a long breakfast the following morning, but Maisie knew she had to leave for Ipswich at around midday if she was to pay another visit to Alice Thurlow.

“Can’t we just sit here on your comfortable sofa, drink our tea, and enjoy the morning? I haven’t even had so much as an egg yet, and you’ve only opened one or two of your presents.”

“Imagine what a surprise it will be when I come home—I can ration them out. In any case, I thought you were anxious to show me something.”

“Absolutely. I’ll just be a tick. We’ll be off by nine and I will let you go to your urgent appointment if you promise to come straight back afterward.”

Maisie shook her head, then reached out to touch James’ arm. “I can’t return immediately, but I’ll be back at the end of the week. I have a contract I’m committed to, and to leave now would not be wise.”

James held his hand to his heart and gave an exaggerated sigh. Then he smiled and nodded towards the door. “All right, let’s go.”

When they reached the edge of Belgravia, James pulled over and stopped the motor car.

“Now, you have a choice,” said James.

“What sort of choice? You’re being very strange, you know.”

“You can either close your eyes and cover them with your hands—or if you can’t keep them closed, I’ll have to blindfold you.”

“James, you do realize how very edgy this makes me feel, don’t you?”

“You only need to keep them closed for a little while, then my secret can be revealed.”

“All right—but no blindfold. And I promise I won’t look.” Maisie held her hands to her eyes as they set off again.

A few moments later, the motor car came to a standstill and Maisie breathed in the air around her. There was a faint loamy smell of fallen leaves, and a light rain on flagstones. There were just a few motor cars and not far away she could hear a horse and cart.

“Oh dear. Oh, it can’t be. James, I know the smells here, I know, it’s—”

“All right, you can look now.”

“Ebury Place!” Maisie all but shouted. “Oh goodness, what are we doing here? Why did you—?”

And at that point, he turned her around to face number 15 Ebury Place, the house where she had come to work as a young girl, where she had struggled to study despite her duties as a domestic servant. The house had been mothballed when Lady Rowan announced that she did not want to come to London anymore. Sheets covered the furniture, and the property appeared deserted—the last time Maisie drove past, she thought how lonely the house had looked, when it had once been so full of life. And now the mansion was half-shrouded in scaffolding and heavy canvas sheets, and a builder’s van was parked outside. A man