She found a gap between tangled branches, but she missed her footing on the icy ground and began to slide helplessly towards the edge of the cliff. She clutched at anything within her grasp but the more she fought to regain her balance the quicker she slid towards the precipice. Then, suddenly she was jerked backwards, the breath knocked from her lungs, and then the world turned upside down as she was flung over a man’s shoulder. She hung helplessly, bumping up and down against his booted legs as he strode onwards, regardless of the snapping branches and grasping thorns.

‘Put me down,’ Rosalind gasped in between sobbing breaths as they skirted the lawn and the shrubbery, ending up in the cobbled yard at the back of the château. She found herself unceremoniously dumped on her feet.

Delfosse grunted and stomped off, entering the château through a back door. Rosalind took a moment or two to smooth her ruffled garments and pat her hair in place before fastening her bonnet, which had come untied during her somewhat rough rescue. She followed Delfosse into the maze of corridors, which would have been the domain of the servants in the old days, but were now empty and sending back mocking echoes of her footsteps. Rosalind passed the open scullery door where Agathe was washing dishes in the stone sink. She walked on and entered the kitchen where Hester had her sleeves rolled up and her arms white with flour as she kneaded bread dough.

‘What happened to you?’ Hester demanded. ‘Why did you come in that way?’

‘I wanted some fresh air,’ Rosalind said weakly. ‘I’ve been to see Piers and he’s no better. I think he’s dying, Hester.’

‘Now, now, don’t talk like that, poppet. You mustn’t give up hope.’ Hester eyed her curiously. ‘That doesn’t explain the state of you. Your hair is all over the place, your skirt is torn and there’s mud on your hem.’

‘I almost had an accident. I didn’t realise how slippery it was. I fell and was sliding towards the edge of the cliffs when Delfosse saved me.’

At that moment Madame Planche burst into the kitchen. ‘My brother tells me you were roaming round the grounds, Madame. That was foolish.’

Rosalind stared at her in amazement. ‘You speak English.’

‘When it suits me, yes. Madame de Gris entertained many foreigners like you, and I found it necessary to learn the language. I only speak it when I have to, and now is the time. Do not go beyond the pleasure garden, if you must go out at all. The cliff is falling away into the sea.’

‘I won’t go out there again,’ Rosalind said hastily. ‘Please thank Monsieur Delfosse for saving me.’