“I wouldn’t have believed it before, but now I do. I often wondered why he got rid of all the staff after her death. Only Mrs. Mannering stayed on and I think that was because she knew too much. He’s afraid of her, just like I am.” She walked on a few steps, then turned back to us. “The worst thing is, I think that now he’s trying to kill me,” she said in a lowered voice.

“Kill you?” I was so shocked that I blurted out the words. “But why?”

Rose turned away, unable to look at us. “Because he never really wanted me.”

“Oh, Rose, what an awful thing to say,” Belinda said.

“He must have loved you or he wouldn’t have married you,” I said gently because I could see how distressed she looked.

Her face was a picture of embarrassment. “He only married me because I was going to have a baby,” she said. “One stupid night together and that happened. At least he did the right thing at the time. But I’m sure he never loved me. For me, it was a dream come true. I couldn’t believe my luck. I mean, Tony Summers—the most eligible, gorgeous man I’d ever met and me as mistress of Trewoma.”

“What happened?” Belinda asked. “About the baby?”

“I lost it,” she said. “I had a miscarriage at three months. Tony was furious. I’m clearly not the sort of wife he wants. I have no social graces, I’m not good at the sort of things the upper crust do. So I think he’s trying to get rid of me.”

“What makes you think that?” Belinda asked.

“He’s tried to trick me into things.”

“What sort of things?” Belinda asked, giving me a worried, questioning look.

There was a rustling in the bushes above us. Rose glanced around nervously again, but it was just a bird. “We have a boat, you know,” she said. “A small sailing boat. He keeps trying to persuade me to come out in it. He knows I’m a bad sailor. I could just picture what he had in mind. He’d get far enough out to sea and then he’d throw me over the side. He’d say, ‘Poor Rose. She leaned over to throw up and a great wave came and she fell out. I tried to save her but the waves swept her away.’”

She put a hand up to her mouth. “It has to be an accident, you see. He’s tried to get me to take up riding, knowing I’d fall off. And then there’s the coffee.”

“What coffee?” I asked.