A little of Eustace’s familiar bluster came back as he went on. ‘Look, Rosa, you are far more intelligent than a woman has any right to be, so you ought to have more sense than to believe such hocus-pocus. I shall be instructing my solicitor to bring a slander suit against Lady Beatrice first thing in the morning.’

Rosa glanced at him. ‘You’re the fool, if you think I cannot see that haunted look in your eyes. You know the plums told the truth, just as I do.’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ Eustace exclaimed as the carriage lurched over a pothole in the road. ‘If you really believe that, then why would you get in this carriage with me? Why would you agree to come home at all?’

Rosa said nothing. She believed she was in a carriage with her would-be murderer and the knowledge was almost too sickening to comprehend, but she did not think he would lift a finger against her yet. It would not happen today. Nor would it happen tomorrow, or even next week or next month. But next year, or perhaps two, or five, or ten years from now, things might be different. She knew perfectly well what she must do to avoid it, and had known even before seeing the fortune in her plum.

They spent the rest of the ride back in silence. Eustace stared sightlessly out of the window at the icy swirls of mist that had descended to writhe and coil about the carriage as it passed along the dark country lanes. His face reminded Rosa of a wax mourning doll. He had the look of a man who had seen something that no one should ever have to see.

As with that endless carriage ride across the frozen Alps, Rosa had the strongest sense that she was being taken down a road that she had no wish to travel. Yet there was no point stopping the carriage and getting out, because there were no other roads available. They had all been closed off long ago.

It was almost two o’clock in the morning by the time they got back to Raven Hall, and Rosa’s pleasure garden was still going strong. She saw the flickering light of fire dancing over the turrets, and heard music and laughter from the grounds beyond. When they climbed out, Rosa ignored the arm Eustace offered her and walked in the opposite direction.

‘You are not going into the garden?’ Eustace asked, surprised. He knew that she always remained until closing time.

Rosa paused and turned back. ‘Soon. But I am going to the aviary first.’

She saw realisation dawn on Eustace’s face. ‘You are releasing the ravens,’ he said in a flat tone.

‘Certainly.’

‘Please don’t.’

Rosa gazed at him across the silver snow. It was so very cold. She wondered whether she would ever feel the warmth of summer on her skin again.