Even as he spoke, Gretna was aware that his words were directed more at Mrs. Merryweather than at herself. Once again she thought how autocratic he was. He could not bear opposition, he would fight it wherever he might encounter it and even if it came from someone so insignificant and unimportant in his eyes as fat Mrs. Merryweather.

As they went up the stairs side by side, Gretna slipped her arm into the older woman’s as if in some wordless way she would thank her for trying to protect her.

Even as she did so, she realised that Mrs. Merryweather’s breath was coming unevenly and her cheeks instead of being their usual rosy red had become almost purple.

“What is the matter?” Gretna asked her anxiously.

“’Tis a pain just here,” Mrs. Merryweather said, putting her hand below her breast. “It’s fair cuttin’ into me, dearie, I can tell you. Just like a sword it is.”

“Mrs. Merryweather, you must have hurt yourself,” Gretna cried.

She helped her up the stairs as best she could and across the landing to the room where they had washed their hands. Now there was a fire lit in the grate and the communicating door was open to show another room almost as large and magnificent leading from it.

The housekeeper, who was supervising a warming pan being put into the large four-poster, turned as they entered.

“I don’t think Mrs. Merryweather – is well,” Gretna told her.

Instantly the woman forgot her airs and graces and became solicitous and understanding.

“Come and sit down,” she then suggested, helping Mrs. Merryweather through the communicating door into the other room. “The couch in here is more comfortable. Put your feet up and loosen your corsets. I expect it’s the shock.”

“She is complaining of a pain,” Gretna said. “It’s below the heart – I am wondering if she has cracked a rib. We were thrown quite violently onto the floor of the coach and I fell on Mrs. Merryweather, so I was not hurt.”

“That’s what it be, dearie,” Mrs. Merryweather groaned. “I remember hittin’ the side of the seat. That’s what it is, I’ve busted one of my ribs. Here’s a nice to-do then.”

“It will have to be strapped up,” the housekeeper said. “Uncomfortable and painful it may be, but not dangerous. The gentlemen often have it happen out huntin’. But you must keep quiet while we fetch the physician and move as little as possible. Amy and Rose will help you undress.”

“Lordy, Lordy!” Mrs. Merryweather exclaimed. “But I can’t go to bed. I’ve got to look after Miss – I mean my niece.”

“I can look after myself,” Gretna pointed out. “I promise you I can. Dear Mrs. Merryweather, you are not to worry.”