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apparent thought or recognition.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ said Rory. ‘I meant no offence, Euphemia. I didnae realise you’d become sich a lady.’
    I placed the plate pointedly in front of him rather than offering it to him. ‘Your comments, as you well know, would be out of order in front of a kitchen maid, let alone myself.’
    Bertram grinned. ‘She’s got you there.’
    â€˜Aye, maybe,’ muttered Rory, taking a sandwich and biting into it. In a rather more muffled tone, he added, ‘But what I want to know is how she knew the woman was pregnant.’
    â€˜I thought you said she wasn’t?’ said Bertram, now more bemused than angry.
    â€˜I said I had no idea either way,’ responded Rory. ‘It was Euphemia that intimated she knew.’
    â€˜I had no idea that Sir Richard was even contemplating matrimony,’ I protested. My heart sank as I realised what had happened. ‘Does anyone fancy some tea? There is hot water in a flask, and a teapot included in the hamper.’
    â€˜Euphemia,’ said Bertram warningly.
    â€˜Who were ye talking about, then?’ added Rory, clearly glad to be the focus of attention no longer.
    There was no way I was getting out of this. ‘I misunderstood you, Bertram. I shouldn’t have said anything. It is a secret as yet undisclosed to any other.’
    â€˜You’re not!’ said Rory.
    â€˜Richenda,’ said Bertram.
    I gave Rory another of my withering looks, but, really, he seemed to be growing quite impervious to them. ‘Yes, Richenda, but she hasn’t even told Hans yet.’
    â€˜Why ever not?’ asked Rory.
    â€˜I thought she had gained a bit of weight,’ said Bertram thoughtfully. ‘Not the kind of thing one comments on in a woman. Especially me sister,’ he added with feeling. ‘I assume it’s because Hans’ last wife miscarried so frequently, she does not want to raise false hopes until she is sure.’
    â€˜Goodness, Bertram,’ I said, ‘that’s quite insightful.’
    Bertram looked a little hurt. ‘I can be, you know.’
    â€˜Aye, well, means she’ll be taking it easy. That’s a good thing,’ said Rory. ‘Less chance of arguments, misunderstandings and catastrophes. Though I don’t like the new nursery maid Muller’s hired; something not right about her.’
    â€˜Catastrophes,’ echoed Bertram. ‘Indeed, I hope not. Before I encountered Euphemia I had been into the realm of Scotland many times without anything disastrous befalling me.’
    I spluttered in indignation.
    â€˜Aye, well, let’s eat up,’ said Rory. ‘Or we’ll no’ be there before nightfall.’
    Our journey continued. Bertram insisted we stopped for a proper luncheon, despite the lateness of the hour, but Rory made good time and although I had no intention of telling him so, I realised he had become most adept in controlling the automobile. We arrived outside a set of large iron lodge gates just as dusk was creeping into night.
    The gates were tall and surprisingly new-looking. A small, neat lodge house stood to the left, and while this was obviously an older building, with its tiny windows and slate roof, it too looked in remarkably good repair. ‘I take it this is Peterfield,’ I said to Bertram. ‘It appears to be in excellent condition.’
    Bertram grunted. ‘We haven’t seen the house yet, but I’ve heard Richard has been pouring money into the place. That new agent of his – dislikeable fellow, but knows his job.’
    Rory blew his horn and, within moments, the door to the lodge had opened. A bent old man shuffled out.
    â€˜Surely he would have heard the car,’ I said.
    â€˜He doesnae look of an age to put on a turn of speed,’ said Rory.
    â€˜But why would Richard …’ I stopped. Bertram and Richard might be at odds, but they were still