Germany was determined to overwhelm France with a massive flanking movement through Belgium, and every day the news from the front seemed to get worse. Alexander’s unit was part of the British troops in action alongside their French and Belgium comrades in a bitter struggle for the town of Mons, and despite the fighting skill of the British Expeditionary Force, the enemy was proving too much. British forces were suffering heavy casualties as they pulled back, and bloody battles were being fought along an ever-shifting line from Belgium to the north of Alsace and Lorraine in the south, but Alexander had written that the main danger was in the north. In under a month the Germans had swept over most of Belgium, crossing the Sambre and Meuse, forcing a retreat to the Somme, the last barrier before Paris. Names Rose had never heard of were now burned into her psyche and featured in her prayers, and the newspapers spoke of a bloodbath at Mons, conjuring up pictures in her mind that kept her awake at night.

One thing became clear by the end of August, which was that the view expressed by Field Marshal Sir John French, the commander of the British Expeditionary Force, that the war would be over by Christmas – a view which had been taken up with such gusto by many young men – was wrong. The Germans had been well prepared and were inflicting severe losses on the Allies.

Alexander had never believed the field marshal was right; rather he had thought Lord Kitchener, the newly appointed Secretary for War, had a better handle on the situation when he forecast that the struggle would be a long and arduous one. Rose had suspected Alexander was right but had prayed that he was wrong; she wanted him home and safe with her and Betsy as soon as possible and able to see his children when they were born. She had been prepared for the prospect of war by Alexander in the days leading up to the declaration, but right to the last moment had hoped it wouldn’t happen, especially when she had discovered she was pregnant.

Arabella had been ecstatic at the news and even William had mellowed, and when twins had been confirmed by the Bembridge doctor, a renowned physician from London, Arabella’s mollycoddling of Rose had risen to new heights. If her mother-in-law had had her way Rose would have been confined to bed for the whole of the pregnancy, and when she had insisted on going about her daily business the same as usual it had caused quite a few difficult moments, until Arabella accepted that Rose was going to do as she saw fit.