I stared at him, the words he had quoted reminding me of something Margaret had said about “both parties”. I thought of her bright cheeks as she left the room, of her memorising Colonel Birch’s address on the letter, and of her discussing Colonel Birch with Mary. She had taken it upon herself to write to him on Mary’s behalf. Molly’s letter about money was not enough; Margaret wanted marriage to be part of the discussion as well. Damn her meddling, I thought. Damn her novel reading.

I sighed. “I did not write that letter, though I know now who did. Let us leave aside the thought of marriage. Of course that is an impossibility.” I tried now to be clear, as this was my chance to help Mary. “But, sir, you must understand that you have robbed the Annings of their livelihood, and Mary of her reputation. It is because of you that they are selling their furniture.”

Colonel Birch frowned. “What would you have me do, Miss Philpot?”

“Give her back what she found-at least the ichthyosaurus, which will bring them in enough money to pay their debts. It is the least you can do, whatever your own financial difficulties.”

“I do not-I am very fond of Mary, you know. I think of her a great deal.”

I snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I could not bear his foolishness. “Such sentiments are completely inappropriate.”

“That may be. But she is a remarkable young woman.”

It was hard to say it, but I forced myself. “You would do better to consider someone closer to your age, and of your class. Someone…” We stared at each other.

At that moment Mrs Taylor entered at the far end of the room, pursued by my sisters and looking as if she hoped Colonel Birch would rescue her. As she hurried over to take his arm, I could only finish in a whisper, “You must do what is honourable, Colonel Birch.”

“I believe we are expected elsewhere,” Mrs Taylor announced, firm at last and leading with her mouth. They left us then, with promises to visit us in Montague Street another time. I knew that would not happen, but I simply nodded and waved goodbye.

The moment they were gone, Margaret burst into tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should never have written that letter! I regretted it the moment I posted it!” Louise looked at me, bewildered. I did not take Margaret in my arms in a sisterly embrace of forgiveness, however. That would take several days, for meddling deserves punishment.

Leaving the British Museum I felt lighter, as if I had transferred a burden I’d been carrying over to Colonel Birch. At least I had spoken out for the Annings, if not completely for myself. I had no idea if it would make a difference.

I found out soon enough.

It was my brother who saw the notice of the auction. John came home from his chambers one evening and joined us in the drawing room-an over-decorated room on the first floor with large windows looking out onto the street. A crowd was there to greet him: apart from us Lyme sisters and our sister-in-law, our other sister, Frances, was visiting from Essex with her two children, eight-year-old Elizabeth, named after me, and three-year-old Francis. They were running after Johnny, now a proud eleven year old who suffered the adoration of his cousins. The children were toasting tea cakes over the fire, which had been lit only for that purpose since it was a warm May evening. Johnny relished dangling the cakes so close that they caught fire, with the younger ones following suit, and in the chaos of putting out the flames and scolding the children about the danger and the waste, I didn’t notice the peculiar look on my brother’s face until the children had settled down.

“I saw something in the newspaper today that I know will interest you,” John said to me, his brow furrowed. He handed me the paper, folded so that a boxed advertisement was in view. As I scanned it, my face went red. I looked up, and the eyes of all my siblings rested on me. Even Johnny was gazing intently. It can be unnerving to have so many Philpots give you their attention.

I cleared my throat. “It appears Colonel Birch is selling his fossil collection,” I announced. “At Bullock’s, next week.”

Margaret gasped, while Louise gave me a sympathetic look and reached for the newspaper to study the notice.

I turned the news over in my mind. Had Colonel Birch known when we met at the British Museum that he was selling his collection? I doubted it, given the possessive pride with which he spoke of his ichthyosaurus to Mrs Taylor. Moreover, surely he would have told me? On other hand, I had made so plain my dissatisfaction with his conduct that perhaps he was unlikely to have told me he was planning to turn his fossils into cash. All of the specimens Mary had given him would now go towards lining his empty pockets. My words to him had had no effect at all. This stark evidence of my impotence brought tears of anger to my eyes.

Louise handed back the paper. “There are previews of the sale,” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere near Bullock’s,” I snapped, taking out a handkerchief and blowing my nose. “I know exactly what is in that collection. I don’t need to inspect it.”

But later, when John and I were on our own in his study, discussing the Lyme sisters’ finances, I interrupted his dry discourse on numbers. “Will you accompany me to Bullock’s?” I did not look at him as I asked, but kept my eyes on the smooth nautilus I had found on Monmouth Beach and given him to use as a paperweight. “Just you and I, not a large party to make an outing of it. I only want to slip in and have a quick look, that’s all. The others needn’t know. I don’t want them to fuss.”

I thought I saw a look of pity cross his face, but he quickly hid it with the bland expression he often used as a solicitor. “Leave it with me,” he said.

John made no mention of a visit for several days, but I knew my brother, and had faith that he would arrange things. One evening at supper he announced that he would need the Lyme sisters to come to his chambers later in the week to look over certain documents he had drawn up for us.

Margaret made a face. “Can’t you bring the papers home?”

“It needs to be at chambers, as a colleague must be present to witness it,” John explained.

Margaret groaned, and Louise pushed a bit of haddock around her plate. All of us found the law chambers dull. Indeed, though I loved and respected him, I found my brother dull too at times-perhaps more so since we’d lived in Lyme, for there people were many things, but rarely dull.

“Of course,” John added, with a glance towards me, “you needn’t all come. One could represent the others.”

Margaret and Louise looked at each other and at me, each hoping for a volunteer. I waited a suitable interval, then sighed. “I will do it.”

John nodded. “To sweeten the pill, we shall dine at my club after. Would Thursday suit?”

Thursday was the first day of the preview, and John’s club was in the Mall, not far from Bullock’s.

By Thursday John had managed to have some sort of paper drawn up that I could sign, so that his ruse was not a lie. And we did dine at his club, but briefly, just one course, so that we arrived at the Egyptian Hall in good time. I shuddered as we entered the yellow building, still with its statues of Isis and Osiris keeping watch over the entrance. After seeing Mary’s ichthyosaurus there several years before, I had vowed never to go back, no matter how tempting the exhibits. Now I was choking on that vow.

Colonel Birch’s fossils were displayed in one of the Hall’s smaller rooms. Although set out like a museum collection, and divided into sets of similar specimens-pentacrinites, fragments of ichthyosauri, ammonites and so on-the fossils were not behind glass, but laid out on tables. The complete ichthyosaurus was on show in the middle of the room, and it was just as breath-taking as it had been in the Annings’ workshop.