He agreed that sounded logical, then added, ‘So it had no real effect, then, when the Empress asked for mercy. The Tsar had Mons killed anyway.’

I nodded. ‘But in fairness, I don’t see he had much choice. Peter the Great had worked so hard to bring Russia out of the dark ages, but there were so many people opposed to him that he just couldn’t afford to be seen to be soft on corruption, and Mons was corrupt.’ And then, with all the reading I’d done last night on the Internet still fresh within my mind, I said, ‘He spared the sister, though. He only had her whipped, and sent off into exile. It’s a very Russian punishment,’ I told him. ‘Exile.’

‘Aye, we Scots have some experience with that as well.’ He turned as he tucked his shirt into his waistband, then walked the few steps to the bathroom and turned on the taps, intercepting my next comment with, ‘And afore you say anything, I’m only washing my hands. I’ve been minding your lecture. I’ve got bottled water for brushing my teeth.’

‘Yes, well, see you remember. The last person who ignored my advice wound up with a nasty parasitical infection.’

‘Giardiasis,’ he said, showing off his knowledge. ‘Caused by Giardia lamblia, a single-celled intestinal parasite. I looked it up.’

‘You couldn’t take my word for it?’

He turned the taps off, dried his hands and sauntered out to join me, reaching for his jacket where it lay across the bed. ‘Of course I took your word. I only like to ken the details,’ he explained. ‘I looked up “factory”, too, in the old sense that Anna uses it. I guessed she didn’t mean the same thing we do, by the term.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘A “Factory” was a group of merchants authorised to set up trade abroad.’

‘I ken that now. I even ken the place they had their warehouses. Which minds me … Did you have a chance to sketch a copy of that old map from your granddad’s book? The one that showed the streets west of the Admiralty?’

I took the folded paper from my pocket. ‘This map?’

‘Aye. That’s perfect, thanks.’ He flipped it open, scanned it briefly, gave a nod and said, ‘All right, then. Let’s go see what’s going on this morning at the Gordon house.’

Mary and Nan had been helping her pack.

They were near her own age, and she held them as dear as if they had been truly her sisters, yet always she felt an awareness that they stood a little apart, being Vice Admiral Gordon’s true daughters while she herself was but his ward. To her eyes they were prettier, though Mary was less pretty when she frowned as she was frowning now.

‘I do not see,’ Mary complained, ‘why they wish you to live in their house. Surely it would not be such an inconvenience for them if you simply went to them each morning and came home each night.’

Anna said, ‘It is not for the days alone that General Lacy and his wife have need of me. I’m meant to be there also in the evenings, for the general’s wife may then require companionship or care.’

‘She is no longer ill.’

Nan, neatly rolling Anna’s stockings, said, ‘She is with child.’

Her sister straightened. ‘Is she really? Where did you hear that?’

‘Sir Harry told me.’ Nan’s cheeks tinged becomingly with pink, although she seemed to try to keep her tone uncaring as she spoke Sir Harry’s name. Sir Harry Stirling was a leading figure of the English Factory, and a friend of the vice admiral, and although he must be surely nearing forty his good looks and clever ways had caught the eye of Nan some time ago, and lately it appeared that she had caught his eye as well. It would, thought Anna, come as no surprise to see a match made there in future, and that pleased her, not for Nan alone, but for the fact that having someone like Sir Harry Stirling as a son-in-law could only raise Vice Admiral Gordon’s status.

Mary asked, a little saucily, ‘How would Sir Harry know this?’

Nan’s blush deepened. ‘Why, he dines with General Lacy on occasion.’

Anna said, ‘The question ought not to be how he does know it, but whether he should have repeated it.’

Nan looked at Anna, curious. ‘Did you know, Anna?’

Anna gave a shrug, and Mary pounced on it.

‘You did know!’ Mary said with glee. ‘You knew the general’s lady was with child, and yet you did not tell us.’

Anna answered patiently, ‘The news was not my own to tell.’

The sigh that Mary gave was thick with feeling. ‘I could never keep so great a secret.’

From the doorway of the room, Vice Admiral Gordon’s voice remarked, ‘’Tis well at least one of my girls is discreet.’ He was dressed to go out, in the finely cut mourning coat that he had worn for these past weeks since the Tsar’s death, all through the bitter month of February and now into March. With a doubtful glance round he asked, ‘Is it now safe for a man to come into the room? Are the frilly things all packed away?’

Mary laughed. ‘Anna owns nothing frilly,’ she said to her father. ‘Nor frivolous. And if she did, she would hardly be taking it with her, for she could not wear it. Not now.’

The vice admiral accepted the sense of this, nodding with almost convincing solemnity. ‘No, I suppose not.’ He entered the room then, and Anna could see that he carried both hands clasped behind him, the way that he had when he’d brought her a gift when he’d come home from being at sea. ‘Still,’ he said, ‘now that the funeral is past, I daresay there’ll be times when the mourning is lifted for various parties and pleasures, and then a young lass may have need of her frills.’