They left at midday, the horses having had ample time to feed and rest. Wolfe carried Bertie to the carriage and set him down next to Fletcher, with Alexander and Rosalind on the opposite seat. Wolfe rode on the box beside Hudson, who eyed him warily but did not raise any objections. Rosalind suspected that very few people would argue with Wolfe, although she suspected that Fletcher was merely biding her time and would not bandy words if it came to an argument. Fortunately it was a reasonably pleasant journey back to Rockwood, although by the time they reached home Bertie was extremely pale and obviously very tired. It was almost dark and Hester had thought to have the flambeaux lit to create a welcoming sight. Bertie revived a little when he saw the castle lit up against a purple sky, and he gasped with delight when he saw the Christmas tree in the entrance hall and the swags of berried holly and fronds of ivy that decorated the grand staircase.

Walter was the first to greet them and his eyes filled with tears at the sight of his older brother being carried in the arms of a giant of a man.

‘Bertie, I’m so sorry, but it’s good to have you home all the same.’ He gave Bertie a gentle hug. ‘We’ve got your old room ready and Hester has made your favourite rabbit stew. She thought you might not feel like a big meal after travelling so far.’

‘Thank you, Walter. That all sounds wonderful. Will you lead the way to my room? I’d like to rest a while.’

‘Of course, and then I’ll take Wolfe to the servants’ quarters. I’m sure they have a room for him fairly near to you.’

‘No. Wolfe has to stay close so that he’s there when I need him. He can sleep in my dressing room tonight.’

Rosalind had been watching the brothers’ reunion with tears in her eyes, but she managed a smile as she caught up with them. ‘Perhaps tomorrow you’d like all your things moved to Grandpapa’s old suite of rooms. Jarvis used to occupy one of them so that he was always on hand. I think Wolfe will be quite comfortable there. After all, you are the master of Rockwood now, Bertie.’

‘I’m not even the master of my own body, Rosie,’ Bertie said with a rueful grin. ‘However, it is a good idea. I’ll sleep in my old room tonight and tomorrow I’ll move. It’s good to be home for Christmas.’