‘Meggie Brewer managed to get here from Exeter, so the roads must be reasonably clear. We can only hope that it stops snowing soon, and that Captain Blanchard gets here in time.’

Rosalind smiled. ‘Really, Hester! You should call him Alex. He’s asked you to often enough.’

‘I’m still the same woman I was before your grandpapa honoured me with his name. Sometimes I wish I’d been strong enough to refuse and simply lived as his wife without putting the family to the shame of having someone like me with the title.’ Hester rose from her seat and brushed the creases out of her black bombazine gown. She had been wearing deep mourning for the past few months and nothing would induce her to relieve its severity with even a ribbon or a bow. ‘But I did love him in my way, Rosalind. He was a good and brave man.’

Rosalind smiled ruefully. ‘He was courageous, but I don’t think he was always good. Grandpapa was human and he loved life. You made him happy, Hester. That’s all that matters. I just wish that you would stop working and take your proper place in the family.’

‘I started in service when I was ten and I can’t just stop. What would I do all day if I didn’t manage the household and keep the accounts? I don’t trust anyone to do it properly and honestly, and I miss my kitchen. I used to love cooking meals for you all, especially when we were so poor that we had to live off the land. It was a challenge.’

‘Those days are behind us, Hester. Thanks to Piers, we’re comfortably off.’ Rosalind heard a sound outside and she was suddenly alert. She hurried to the window. ‘I wonder who that could be. It looks as if we have guests.’

‘There’s only one way to find out, poppet,’ Hester said, smiling. ‘Perhaps a visitor or two will take Patricia’s mind off her problems.’

‘It depends who it is.’ Rosalind crossed the room and opened the door. ‘But I don’t think it’s Lady Pentelow – she always travels with a whole retinue of servants. I’ll go and meet them. At least it means that the roads are still passable.’