‘You’re right, and Walter can stop studying for once and do something useful. He might be in his second year at Cambridge, but he spends even more time with his head in a book.’

‘I keep telling him he’ll ruin his eyesight if he goes on like this, but you know your brother: he doesn’t listen to anyone other than his tutors.’

‘He’ll have to pay attention to me now. He can help to bring the decorations down.’

‘I’ll go to the kitchen and make sure that Mrs Jackson has everything in hand.’

‘I’m never going to persuade you to give up working am I, Hester?’

‘Probably not, my pet. But perhaps you understand now that keeping busy is important if you are not to fret. After all, you must be worried about your husband. You haven’t mentioned him in all this, but he’s overdue, isn’t he?’

‘Piers isn’t in danger, at least not as far as I know. I’m sure it must be the bad weather that’s delaying his return. Pedrick would have contacted me if anything had happened to the ship.’ Rosalind tried to sound positive, but she was as worried about Piers as she was about her brother and Alex. She left Hester to carry out her inspection of the kitchen, knowing that there would be ruffled feathers, but perhaps that was not a bad thing. At least Hester could be trusted to make sure that everything was done to a high standard that even Lady Pentelow could not fault.

Rosalind went to the library and dragged Walter away from his studies. They ventured up to the chilly north tower where the rooms were rarely used except for storage. The Christmas decorations were all packed neatly in tea chests and Walter carried the heaviest down the spiral staircase, leaving Tilly and Molly to bring the smaller boxes.

Rosalind followed with some of the more fragile pieces, but she came to a halt by the oriel window that overlooked the bailey courtyard. James, the footman, rushed out to open the great iron gates, and a carriage drawn by a pair of matched greys rumbled across the snow-covered cobbles. It was followed by another vehicle and a cart piled high with luggage.

‘Walter,’ Rosalind cried, leaning over the banister rail, ‘I think Lady Pentelow has arrived.’

He looked up and groaned. ‘Now I’ll never get any peace. She may be Piers’ grandmother, but that woman interferes with everything.’

‘Never mind that. She might have heard from him or Alex.’ Rosalind abandoned the box of decorations and ran down the last flight of stairs.

Chapter Three

Lady Pentelow sailed into the entrance hall, leaving a trail of snowy footprints on the marble tiles. She took off her fur cape and thrust it into Jarvis’s arms.