Rosalind gave her a hug. ‘No, of course not. We’re well protected there. No one will hurt you or Tommy, and that’s a promise.’

The day of the wedding dawned grey and stormy. Rosalind could only hope it was not an omen for the forthcoming marriage of her sister to Sir Michael. The ceremony itself was in the village church and the reception was at Greystone Park, which left her with little to do other than to make sure that the children were dressed in their wedding finery and ready on time. Hester, who had refused to order a new outfit, was dressed in her customary black bombazine, although she wore it with a handsome bonnet trimmed with red roses and a fur cape that smelled of mothballs, which she refused to replace with a newer model. Rosalind had a new gown in lilac silk taffeta, which was stylish but unadorned with frills or lace, worn with a frogged velvet mantle and a bonnet trimmed with forget-me-nots and rosebuds. Hester and Aurelia went in the landau with the children, which left Rosalind to travel on her own in the barouche. She knew that the guests would be watching her closely for signs of discomfort. It was common knowledge that Piers’ trial was in a few days’ time, and for the first time she was nervous of entering the church on her own, although she told herself that she would be amongst friends and the few who chose to spread gossip were not worth bothering about.

She was waiting in the front entrance of the castle for Hudson to arrive with the barouche when she heard the sound of galloping hoofs and a horseman rode through the gates and swerved to a halt.

‘Alex!’ Rosalind gasped with a mixture of shock and delight as he handed the reins to Pip Hudson, who had run from the stables ahead of his father driving the barouche.

‘I couldn’t bear the thought of you attending Patsy’s wedding on your own,’ Alexander said breathlessly. ‘Have I got time to change out of my riding clothes?’

She gazed at his mud-spattered state and laughed. ‘Only if you’re very quick. Have you ridden all the way from Trevenor?’

He nodded. ‘It’s taken me the best part of three days, but I’m here now. Wait five minutes and I’ll be with you.’

The church doors were about to be closed when they arrived, but the verger opened them wide, staring curiously at Alexander, who had hastily changed into his smartest frock coat, pin-stripe trousers and a grey waistcoat. Even out of uniform he cut a dashing figure, and Rosalind was aware of the envious glances of unattached females. However, she focused her attention on Patricia, who was standing with her attendants, poised and ready to walk down the aisle.

‘I thought you were in Cornwall, Alex.’ Patricia eyed him warily. ‘I hope you haven’t come to cause trouble.’