“What is going on here?” Pat demanded. “You must have some idea. I could swear Haworth was threatening the Countess. Why on earth is everyone tolerating him?”

“I have no idea. How could Jimmy let him speak to his mother like that?”

“How could he let Lady Anna speak to you like that?” Pat returned.

“Oh, but Mr. Merton was awfully nice,” Fen said with a glimmer of a smile. “I felt quite rescued.”

“He’s all right, but he oughtn’t have had to do it. For heaven’s sake. If this is how Haworth behaves with guests there, what on earth is he like en famille?”

“Actually, it would probably be better, or at least no worse,” Fen said. “He seems to like humiliating people, and I dare say that’s even jollier done in front of witnesses.”

“Good Lord. That is an observation.” Pat thought it through, with a decided and growing revulsion. “Yes, I think you’re right. No wonder Jimmy can’t stick the idea of him moving in for good. I still don’t understand why the Wittons put up with it.”

“I wonder if they know something will get worse if they argue with him.”

“That he’d take it out on Lady Anna, you mean?”

“Or their child.”

They both contemplated that for a moment, then Fen took a very deliberate sip of brandy, hardly wincing at all. “Do you think Miss Singh knows what’s going on?”

“She may. Let’s ask.” Fen snorted; Pat grinned. “Well, be dam—that is, let’s not bother with subtlety. This is the family you’re meant to be marrying into. Which—”

“Oh, don’t.”

“I’m sorry, but I think I have to.” No, you don’t! friendship shouted. She ignored it. “There’s something badly wrong here, and Jimmy isn’t dealing with it, and nor is the Earl. It seems to me Haworth has licence to be as malevolent as he chooses to his extended family. I think at the very least you ought to know why before you sign up to be his sister-in-law.”

“I know,” Fen said. “Only, I did try to catch Jimmy earlier and he said he was busy and tomorrow the shooting starts—”

“You can’t just drift into marriage because your fiancé doesn’t have time to talk to you.”

“I know.” Fen spoke more sharply than was her habit. “I have no intention of ignoring this. And whatever sort of brute Haworth is, tonight started because of Lady Anna being appallingly rude to me, if you recall, so even if there was nothing wrong with him, I’d want to know what on earth is wrong with her—”

Her eyes were glistening wet. “Don’t cry,” Pat said hopelessly.