‘Let’s do what he says and keep out of his way.’ Rosalind gave Hester a gentle push towards the somewhat grandiosely named saloon, which in fact was just a small cabin built amidships, but at least it was shelter, and as the vessel edged its way out to sea Rosalind was very grateful for protection from the wind and spray. Hester began to feel sick quite soon, and Rosalind gave her the bucket that Harry had thought to provide as it was too dangerous to allow Hester to wander around the deck in the dark. Eventually Hester seemed to recover a little and dozed off, leaving Rosalind to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep.

They were put ashore next morning and Rosalind used the smattering of French that she had learned from her old governess, Miss Brailsford, to give a cab driver instructions to take them to the hospital on the outskirts of the town. There was a small café nearby where they drank coffee and ate sweet pastries before venturing into the hospital, which turned out to be part of a convent.

Hester posed as Alexander’s mother, although the nun on duty eyed her suspiciously when she gave her name as Lady Carey. However, Rosalind stepped in to confirm Hester’s title and she demanded to see her husband. Eventually a younger, fresh-faced nun was summoned and she led them to a large ward with a high vaulted ceiling and stained-glass windows. The smell of dampness and incense mingled with the strong odour of carbolic. The male patients lay listlessly in their narrow iron beds, following every move that Rosalind and Hester made with curious stares. The silence was broken by the occasional groan, and Rosalind found herself tiptoeing towards the bed where Alex lay with his right leg encased in plaster. He met her eager smile with a dazed look in his eyes, which had dulled to moody umber in the half-light.

‘Am I dreaming? Are you real, Rosie?’ His face was pale with the skin drawn tightly across his high cheekbones, but his smile was genuine. ‘Is Patsy with you?’

‘She’s made herself ill with worrying about you, Alex,’ Rosalind said tactfully. ‘She wasn’t in a fit state to make the sea journey.’

He pulled a face. ‘That doesn’t sound like the Patsy I know. I imagine she is more upset that the wedding has had to be postponed. It would take a miracle to get me back to Rockwood in time.’

‘Don’t worry about that now. You can make it up to her when you’re fully recovered.’ Rosalind moved closer. ‘Are you in much pain?’

‘Not unless I try to move, but how did you get here?’

‘I hired a fishing boat to bring us from Rockwood,’ Rosalind said in a low voice.