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guidebook clear of the water. ‘I have found it,’ she called through the open door to Belinda. ‘Baddell Castle. Ah, it used to belong to the Earls of Jesper. The last earl died in 1590 without children, his estates escheated to the Crown, and all the court rolls and records went to London and disappeared in the middle of the seventeenth century, so it was a castle without much history that anyone knows of or ghosts or what have you, so everyoneforgot about it. It says that the present owner, the Marquess of Frenton, repels visitors.’
    ‘I am glad he did not repel us,’ called Belinda.
    ‘The Crown gave the first Marquess of Frenton the castle and estates.’
    ‘What shall I wear?’ asked Belinda. ‘If we are to dine here, we could dine in our undress.’
    ‘I think we should dress for a formal supper, just in case.’
    ‘The marquess is hardly likely to ask coach passengers to sit down with him,’ protested Belinda.
    ‘He did not need to take us into his home,’ Hannah pointed out. ‘He could have left us at some inn.’
    As soon as they had bathed and dressed, servants appeared to remove the baths, and then a physician made his entrance. He said that Miss Wimple was still unconscious but he had hopes she would soon recover. He then examined Belinda’s ankle and confirmed that it was a bad sprain and strapped it up.
    Then a lady’s maid came in. She said she was called Betty. Hannah thought it quite likely that she had some other name, for employers very frequently called their lady’s maids Betty.
    Hannah enjoyed the luxury of having her hair done and her large shawl arranged tastefully on her shoulders. Then, while Belinda’s hair was being arranged, Hannah asked the maid, ‘When you have finished, can you take us to Miss Wimple? She is the lady who has suffered a bad accident.’
    The maid nodded, and after she had dressed Belinda’s fine hair in one of the new Grecian styles,she led them out and along the corridor and into Miss Wimple’s bedchamber.
    Miss Wimple was lying like one dead. Hannah felt her forehead and found it hot. A little chambermaid was piling logs on the fire. ‘The doctor said she would live,’ said the chambermaid.
    A footman appeared in the doorway. ‘His lordship’s compliments,’ he said. ‘You are to follow me.’
    ‘I will stay here,’ said Hannah firmly.
    ‘Beg pardon, madam,’ said the footman. ‘Mrs James, the housekeeper, will soon be here to sit with the poor lady, and she will let you know as soon as there is any change.’
    Belinda and Hannah followed him out, back along a chain of corridors, and then down the main staircase to the first floor. ‘His lordship is in the Cedar Room,’ said the footman, and flung open the double doors.
    Belinda hesitated nervously in the doorway until Hannah gave her a little push.
    The Cedar Room was enormous. The cedar-wood panelling which gave it its name was hung with family portraits. Huge chandeliers hung from the ornately designed ceiling. There was a large Adam fireplace in the centre of the opposite wall, and a French carpet covered the floor.
    Huge windows had thick velvet curtains with heavy swags of fringe drawn against the winter’s night. The gigantic area of the room was dotted about with little islands of tables and chairs.
    At the island nearest the fireplace sat a very beautiful lady and a middle-aged couple.
    The marquess was standing by the fireplace. He was wearing an evening coat of dark-blue watered silk with a high collar and a ruffled shirt. His breeches of the same material were fastened at the knee with gold buckles. His silk stockings were of gold-and-white stripes and his black shoes had gold buckles. He had a fine sapphire in the snowy folds of his cravat and a large square sapphire ring on his finger.
    Hannah shot a covert glance at Belinda and was glad that young lady was looking every bit as finely dressed as the marquess’s guests.
    She was wearing a gown of pale lilac satin and a fine