Rosalind walked purposefully to the drawing room. Colonel Munday had put himself in charge of the large china bowl in which Rosalind had mixed the punch, and he was busy ladling the heady concoction into cups, there being no equivalent here to the punch glasses that the family used at Rockwood. Madame Planche had refused to allow them to put hot liquid in the late Madame de Gris’s delicate wine glasses, but that did not seem to make any difference to the drinkers. The punch was obviously going down very well, if the flush on Father Laurent’s cheeks was anything to go by. He was seated by the fire, chatting amicably to Madame Planche, who in turn was responding with a genuine smile. Madame Fournier, however, seemed to be having difficulty in communicating with Delfosse, who was at the sullen stage of intoxication. Rosalind met Alex’s questioning look with a smile but she was accosted by Hester before she had a chance to cross the floor to speak to him.

‘Well? Is it true? Agathe seemed to think that Sister Dominique had good news.’

‘Piers opened his eyes once while I was there, although I don’t think he recognised me. The doctor seems hopeful.’

Colonel Munday handed Rosalind a cup of punch. ‘This will bring the colour back to your cheeks, ma’am. I couldn’t help overhearing. We should drink to your husband’s speedy recovery.’

‘Thank you, Colonel. I’m afraid he has a long way to go.’

‘Here’s to his continued improvement.’ Colonel Munday raised his cup and drained the contents in one large gulp. ‘Excellent punch, Mrs Blanchard.’ He turned to Hester. ‘Allow me to refill your cup, Lady Carey.’

Rosalind left Hester to deal with the colonel and she edged her way past Delfosse and Madame Fournier, who seemed to be having an argument.

‘Well?’ Alex said, smiling. ‘I believe it’s good news.’

‘At least he was conscious for a few seconds. The doctor seemed to think it’s a good sign, but Piers didn’t recognise me.’

Alex grasped her hand. ‘I’m sorry, Rosie. I know how you must be feeling, but it’s a start. Neither of us is much use to you at this moment, are we?’

‘You are shameless, Alexander,’ Rosalind said wearily. ‘I’m not going to satisfy your vanity by answering that question.’

‘But I can try to make you laugh.’ His smile faded. ‘And I can listen if you want to talk about it, Rosie. You know that, don’t you?’

She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps and, seeing Hester advancing towards them, she freed her hand from Alex’s warm grasp. ‘What is it?’