Rosa couldn’t help herself – she walked over to scoop Ada up in her arms. The little girl snuggled into her, and Rosa tried to feel reassured by her solid warmth. Her daughter had turned one the week before. Rosa had hoped that after a year of being a mother, she would know exactly what she was doing, but there were still difficult days, times when she felt she was failing at everything, that she was not being the mother she so desperately wanted to be. After one whole year, the only thing she knew for sure was that motherhood was exhausting, terrifying and nerve-racking, and every day seemed to force her to learn anew what she must do. Yet it was also the most rewarding adventure of her life, and she thrilled at the thought of all that lay ahead – which made up for all the moments when she was laid low with uncertainty and doubt.

And so even when Ada was in the darkest of tempers, throwing tantrums, crying without reason or whining incessantly, Rosa was there, still loving her, refusing to be pushed away. And when Ada smiled, or let out a shriek of joyful laughter, or wrapped her arms around Rosa’s neck, squeezing tight, Rosa knew she was on the right track, even though it often didn’t feel like it. Whatever she might get wrong, she loved her daughter more and more each day.

‘It strikes me, however, that you are looking rather tired, your grace,’ the doctor said, although Rosa noticed that he barely looked at her, but glanced at Eustace instead. ‘Are you feeling quite well?’

‘Perfectly, thank you,’ Rosa replied. ‘I have simply been keeping long hours. We are about to reopen our pleasure gardens, you see.’

The doctor paused. He glanced at Eustace again, but the duke seemed suddenly keenly interested in the view from the window.

‘I will speak plainly, if I may,’ the doctor said.

‘Since I very much doubt I can stop you, please do,’ Rosa replied, her voice hard. She already knew that nothing good could come of this.

‘I have called upon you today at the request of your mother-in-law, the dowager duchess. She has expressed concerns about your health.’

Rosa looked sharply at Eustace. ‘Did you know about this?’

The duke turned from the window and shook his head. ‘Mother did not discuss it with me.’

‘The duchess has become concerned,’ the doctor said. ‘She noticed certain … irregularities when she stayed with you last week.’

That shrew! Rosa thought bitterly. She and Eustace normally kept up the façade of a married couple during their public appearances, but it was certainly true that she had made little effort to conceal the disdain she felt for Eustace during his mother’s stay. Not having to pretend had felt delightful, in a twisted sort of way. She’d even gone so far as to offer the dowager duchess a few home truths too.