The Rockwood Chronicles

Rockwood Map

The Rockwood Chronicles family tree

Dedication

For Team Dilly at HarperCollins, who have
worked so hard, despite the pandemic,
to bring my books to life.

Chapter One

Rockwood Castle, Devonshire, Winter 1853

It was one of those rare winters when snow had started to fall at the beginning of December. Rosalind could not remember a year when the preparations for Christmas had taken on such a seasonal feeling, but first, and even more important, there was her sister’s upcoming wedding. Looking out of the drawing-room window across the snow-covered rose garden, she scanned the horizon for white sails set against the granite-grey sea, but there was no sign of her husband’s ship returning from one of his interminable business trips abroad. It would be so disappointing if Piers was not at her side when her sister, Patsy, walked down the aisle to marry Alexander.

Rosalind sighed and turned back to the list she had been checking. The arrangements for the wedding were far advanced, with only a few last-minute checks to be made. She laid her pen on the silver inkstand and sat back in her chair, stretching her cramped muscles. The comforting sound of apple wood logs crackling and spitting as the flames roared up the chimney all but drowned out the soughing draught that whistled through the ill-fitting windows of the ancient castle.

Just two short years ago it had been her own wedding that Rosalind had been planning with such meticulous care and excitement. Now it was Patsy’s turn, but she was only eighteen and, in Rosalind’s eyes, still too young for the responsibilities of marriage. Patsy was engaged to Captain Alexander Blanchard of the 46th Regiment of Foot. Rosalind smiled at the thought – they would be sisters and sisters-in-law, too. She turned her head at the sound of the door opening.

‘There you are, Rosie. I knew I’d find you here, poring over yet another list. Surely all the organisation has been attended to now?’ Patricia Carey tossed her blonde curls and subsided onto the damask-covered seat of the nearest chair. ‘I’m exhausted. I’ve been standing like a statue for what seemed like hours while Meggie Brewer stuck pins into me.’

Rosalind laughed. ‘She was only doing her job, Patsy. You wouldn’t want to wear a wedding gown that didn’t fit properly, would you?’

‘No, of course not, but I’m worried. I haven’t had a word from Alex. I don’t even know where he is at present.’

Rosalind rose from the desk where she had been sitting and went over to give her sister a hug. ‘Bridal nerves, Patsy. That’s all it is. I expect I was the same before my wedding, but it was wonderful when it happened.’