The assistant dressmaker’s house lay on the far side of town. Normally Samuel would have taken the shortcut over Putney Downs, but since the snow had made the path along the cliffs somewhat treacherous, he’d insisted on the long route, taking them through town.

At first Cecily contented herself with watching the shop windows they passed along the Esplanade. The merchants had decorated for Christmas a month earlier, and their displays were a sight to behold.

Glistening snowflakes and stars hung from silver strings, while sparkling colored balls slowly twisted on invisible threads. Toy soldiers in bright red coats marched across one window, jostling for space among stuffed bears and dolls in pretty lace gowns. Another one harbored a dozen snowmen holding lengths of silks and satins, while behind them wide-brimmed hats covered in baubles and ribbons hung from the branches of a leafless tree.

Soon, however, too much bumping and rattling over the frozen streets took its toll, and by the time they reached Caroline Blanchard’s cottage Cecily felt as if her neck were trapped in a vise.

She winced as Samuel helped her down from the carriage, and tried to stretch her back while they waited for Miss Blanchard to answer the door.

The seamstress greeted them with a rather stiff smile, as if she wasn’t used to stretching her lips. She ushered them into the sitting room, which seemed to have been overtaken by numerous dogs and cats. She had to push two of the cats off armchairs before offering them to her guests.