But it didn’t work. If David could hear her describing herself as a doormat, he’d burst out laughing, she knew.

She glanced up at the clock. Five past one. The list of tasks still stretching ahead of her was endless, but at least if she started planning dinner now, it might take her mind off David.

In fact, a welcome distraction arrived in the form of an email from Ronnie reminding her that it wasn’t long now till the wedding. Steph felt a sudden reckless impulse to pour herself a glass of rosé, take it upstairs and spend a stolen half hour trying on outfits for the big day.

She settled on a floaty green number she’d loved because it made her think of tea dresses from the Thirties, and a little grey jacket that had been her standby on countless posh occasions. Would hats be worn? she wondered. Screw fucking hats! she told herself, collapsing on the bed, overtaken by worry at whether Nicky, her favourite niece, was making the right choice. After alI, it seemed so very easy to get marriage completely wrong.

Margot looked out at the vineyard at the bottom of her garden and wondered how they were doing up at the château. It seemed a complete folie to her that they were only having one wedding this year, but of course, she hadn’t exactly encouraged any enquiries she’d received before she’d left. She’d had to be discreet because of the terms of the contract, of course, so she’d just told the potential brides that her husband was ill and the future was uncertain rather than actively putting them off. The good thing was, it seemed to have worked. Apparently they were going to use this year as practice, which seemed weirdly extravagant to her, but maybe Madame Meredith was actually Madame Moneybags. If Lucille Latignac got what she’d come for, at least Meredith would have nothing but the château to concentrate on.

Margot found her collapsible stick – ridiculously, the doctor said she must have a support when she walked anywhere! – and headed out. Maybe Liam knew more. She liked Liam, not just for his looks, though handsome men always cheered her up, but because he understood her need to roam a little on the land that had been hers until very recently. His family had lost their land too, so he could relate to the elemental feelings that tied her to this place. He also turned a blind eye to what Madame Meredith would no doubt label nosiness when she had a peek into the orangery and the ground-floor salon.