‘We’ve had the most abominable journey. Why your sister chose to get married at this time of year is quite beyond me, Rosalind.’

Rosalind smothered a sigh. ‘Welcome to Rockwood, Lady Pentelow.’

‘We’ve been travelling for three days,’ Lady Pentelow said peevishly. ‘I’ve had to sleep in unaired beds and consume questionable food.’ She glanced round the unadorned space. ‘You haven’t bothered to make the place look welcoming.’

‘That’s all in hand. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow at the earliest.’ Rosalind crossed her fingers behind her back. It was a lie, of course. She had known that the party from Cornwall would be arriving very soon, but she had more to worry about than putting up a Christmas tree. ‘Won’t you come to the drawing room, Lady Pentelow? I’ll send for refreshments.’

‘I’d rather go to my room. I suppose it is ready?’ Lady Pentelow glanced over her shoulder as her granddaughter breezed into the hall. ‘Don’t loiter, Aurelia. Where is Simms?’

‘She’s helping Grainger, Grandmama. They’re making sure that our luggage is unloaded carefully.’ Aurelia turned to Rosalind with a wide smile. ‘How lovely to see you again, Rosie. I still can’t quite get used to thinking of you as Piers’ wife, but that’s because we see so little of each other.’

‘As you’ve discovered, it’s a long journey to Trevenor, and I’m kept very busy here.’

‘Is there another reason why you can’t travel?’ Aurelia said pertly.

‘Not yet, but you will be among the first to know when you’re to become an aunt.’

‘Aunt Aurelia! I’m not sure I like that.’ Aurelia tossed her head and her glossy dark ringlets framed her oval face. She made a moue. ‘It makes me sound like an old spinster.’

‘That’s something you will never be,’ Rosalind said, smiling. ‘You are not going to be left on the shelf, Aurelia. Hugo Knighton was a fool to choose Dorcas.’

‘Our engagement was never official,’ Aurelia said with a careless shrug. ‘I was the one who broke it off, anyway.’

Lady Pentelow clicked her tongue against her teeth, frowning. ‘You were well rid of that silly young man, Aurelia. He was not good enough for you. The Knightons are parvenus; your ancestors came over with Duke William. Anyway, why are we standing in the freezing entrance hall? Piers might have made improvements to this old ruin, but they are not apparent in this weather. Is this your idea of hospitality, Rosalind?’

It was useless to argue. Rosalind had learned that long ago. ‘Follow me, if you will. It’s nice and warm in the drawing room.’

‘Where’s Patsy?’ Aurelia demanded eagerly. ‘I want to see her now.’

‘Where is Piers?’ Lady Pentelow added, gazing round as if expecting him to materialise from the shadows. ‘Why isn’t he here to greet us?’