She allowed herself another ten minutes to enjoy it, then dressed quickly in the perfectly pressed woollen suit that somehow looked better than on the day she had bought it. There was no reason to think that the church would be miraculously warmer than the rest of the castle, so she took her coat from the wardrobe and checked her bag for the envelope wrapped in tissue paper that was Marta’s Christmas present; as far as she could gather, the day’s itinerary was packed with communal activities and they were unlikely to find any private time together until the evening, but she wanted it with her in case the right moment came. It looked a poor thing next to the collection of presents that Marta had brought with her, but Josephine knew how much the gift would mean, and she couldn’t wait to hand it over.

The gathering on the terrace outside the church was in high spirits, and the small crowd took her by surprise. There were lots of people she didn’t know, as well as one or two familiar faces from the household staff, and she guessed that most of them were islanders who had come up from the village for the service. The terrace had been efficiently cleared of the night’s snow, which now rested in large, man-made drifts against the outer walls, proving an irresistible temptation to the Mount’s children, who lobbed great handfuls at each other, laughing and shouting when they scored a direct hit, and ignoring their parents’ half-hearted instructions to behave. The sheer joy of the game brought the whole scene to life, and Josephine was suddenly conscious that the festivities so far had been strangely muted without the childlike excitement of Christmas; the adults were going through the motions and making the best of it, but there was something missing from the party – some vital element of 155innocence and sparkle and wonder – that even a Hollywood star couldn’t conjure into being.

Two footmen passed among the congregation with trays of hot coffee, rum butter tarts and spicy pepper cakes, and Josephine accepted a cup gratefully, glad of both the warmth and the stimulant. The coffee was laced with brandy, and she took it over to the far side of the terrace to enjoy the views out to Penzance and Newlyn, and then to Land’s End. There was no sign of Marta or Archie yet, but Hilaria – a picture of restrained elegance in a tailored burgundy suit that stood out against the snow – was talking to a couple with two young children. She waved when she saw Josephine, and broke away from the group to join her. ‘I’m so pleased to see you,’ she said, after the flurry of Christmas greetings. ‘Everyone must be sleeping late this morning. I was just beginning to wonder if all my guests had defied the tides and fled in the night.’

‘I think it’s more a case of sleeping off the festive spirit. You looked after us far too well at dinner.’ She glanced round the terrace again. ‘Am I really the first to arrive?’