“All right, that will do,” the Earl said testily. “Of course you will stay with us, Miss Carruth. We must be informed immediately the situation improves.”

Henry shot a glance at the window, which was sluiced by water as though someone was throwing buckets at it. “Yes, my lord.”

“Well,” the Countess said. “That is...unfortunate.”

“Nobody can leave.” Pat glanced around the room, seeing her own dismay reflected on every face, guests and family alike. “We’ll just have to wait for the rain to pass, then.”

The Countess rose. “I think I shall lie down. I hope you will order tea and so on as you please. James?”

The Earl accompanied her out. The three remaining women looked at one another. Victoria summed matters up with a heartfelt, “Bother.”

“Quite,” Fen said. “Were you hoping to go too?”

“Strongly.”

“That man again?”

“I haven’t seen him all day, thank goodness, but I should like to keep it that way. Preston offered to escort me back to London.”

“I thought you were going to stay, for the Countess.”

Victoria made a face. “I concluded it was doing more harm than good. Preston is very keen to get away—he is self-conscious about assaulting his hosts’ son-in-law. And we want to tell our families, of course. But it hardly matters what we want if the railway is out of action.”

They chatted about Preston’s family and Victoria’s plans for a while, then as the conversation became more general, about books, mutual acquaintances, almost anything except the fact of being trapped in this house with Maurice Haworth. Victoria rang for tea around three, and had the fire lit. Pat nibbled a scone, letting herself enjoy this: Victoria’s unguarded face, Fen curled up on the sofa, their smiles. This was the aspect of Rodington Court she’d remember and cherish, she decided: a cosy room keeping the weather out, and a new friend, and Fen. It was only everybody else that appalled.

This was underlined a few moments later when Jack Bouvier-Lynes and Lady Anna came in. He was saying, “Well, since the cat’s away, the mice may as well play,” in such a flirtatious tone that the meaning could not be mistaken. Lady Anna wore a seductive expression that seemed to Pat oddly unreal, as though she had painted it on. It faded almost at once as she took in the scene.

“Good heavens,” she said. “Miss Carruth. I thought you’d gone.”

“The railway line is flooded,” Pat said.

“How unfortunate.” Lady Anna’s expression didn’t allow much room for doubt as to what she found unfortunate. “And how unpleasant for my brother.”

Fen rose. “I’m sure you want your tea. I’ve had mine, so I shall leave you.”

“I’ll join you,” Pat said.