When Clarissa first looked down at him he thought it was another of the apparitions that had come and gone since he had fallen ill. He was aware of his surroundings again now, and how could his sister be in New York? And so he had simply shut his eyes and refused to try to talk, drifting back into the semi-conscious state she had awoken him from. How much later it was when he came round to find a doctor examining him he didn’t know, nor was he really aware of being transported to hospital or being stabbed with needles and having drips set up over his bed. He coughed and slept, and coughed and slept, while the doctors and nurses in the private hospital Clarissa had had him rushed to battled against the pneumonia that had filled both lungs with pus and could even now take his life.

It was four days later when he opened his eyes one evening and looked at Clarissa fast asleep in a chair by the side of his bed. He had known she was around before this but had never been able to keep his eyes open long enough to speak, just managing to smile at her before drifting off again. Now, though, his mind was clear for the first time in two weeks, and he whispered her name. ‘Clarissa?’

Her eyes opened instantly and the next moment she was kneeling by the bed, tears spilling down her cheeks as she murmured, ‘Edward, oh, Edward. Thank God, thank God. I must call the nurse—’

‘No.’ He found he was too exhausted to even raise his hand. ‘First, how . . .’

She understood what he meant even though he was too tired to continue, saying, ‘When we heard about the crash, Godfrey managed to secure us a cabin on the Mauretania and we left almost immediately. Oh, darling boy, you’ve been so very ill.’

He didn’t know about ‘had been’. He still felt at death’s door. ‘Lost everything,’ he muttered, gasping as even the two words made him breathless.

‘I know, I know, but don’t think about that now. Just concentrate on getting well. Godfrey has been to see the Kingstons, by the way, and he put the fear of God in them by the end of the visit. They were trying to paint a picture of a man we didn’t know and Godfrey wasn’t having any of it. Your little Verity is a snake, isn’t she.’

‘Not – not mine.’

‘No, and I’m glad you came to your senses there. Now go to sleep, my darling. I’m here and I’m staying until you are well and then taking you home. Everything is under control and blue skies will come again one day, I promise you.’

Blue skies will come again one day. He went to sleep with the words ringing in his ears but not quite able to believe them.