Rose shook her head. “Oh no. Trust me. I don’t go anywhere near the top of the cliffs. You know me. I always was the timid one. Jonquil used to be so rude about it. So did Tony, for that matter.” She gave an embarrassed grin. “So let’s get coats and scarves on. There is a part of the grounds I am dying to show you. It’s quite unique.”

We were just buttoning outdoor coats when Mrs. Mannering appeared. “Surely not going out in this weather, Mrs. Summers?”

“I thought a walk would do us good,” Rose said, flushing as she always did when speaking to the housekeeper.

“You’ll come back with pneumonia if you’re not careful. It’s bitter out there.”

“We are bundled up and I’m anxious to show the ladies our grounds. We had to abandon our walk yesterday when it started to rain.”

Mrs. Mannering was frowning. “Then I had better tell Cook to have a good hot soup ready for luncheon. And I suggest you walk with caution. There are parts of this estate that can be dangerous.”

Rose opened the front door, and a cold dampness swirled in. It wasn’t the most inviting of days but Rose set out with determination and we had no choice but to follow. Rose led us across a lawn and into a copse of trees. “You wait until you see this,” she said. “It’s quite surprising.”

We could not see more than a few feet ahead of us but suddenly the path plunged downward between steep banks. We were entering a little dell. Bushes rose on either side, higher than our heads. A small stream ran gurgling beside us, dancing over stones as it made its way down the hill. Then we came to plants with giant leaves, two or three feet across, reaching out across the path. There was something unreal, otherworldly, about them and I shrank back when one brushed against me, as if they might well prove to be carnivorous.

“Isn’t this amazing?” Rose said and her voice had an odd, echoing quality. “It goes all the way down to the beach. It’s so sheltered that exotic plants grow here. A former Trefusis brought back tropical plants from the Caribbean. In the summer there are orchids and flowering vines. It’s a bit dreary at this time of year.”

“What are these awful-looking things?” I asked as we approached an even bigger plant with almost circular leaves at least three feet wide. It towered over our heads and reached out across the narrow path. I moved past it cautiously.

“I forget their name, but they grow well in Cornwall. It’s something like Gunnera?”

“Or ask Mrs. Mannering. I’m sure she knows,” Belinda said dryly. “She knows everything.”