‘I’m not too sure I can trust you.’

‘Aren’t we almost cousins?’

‘Cousins, if my mother hadn’t played fast and loose. But, even if we were, family doesn’t necessarily mean trust. Look at me and my sister.’

‘Yeah, I don’t understand that. Were you close when you were small?’

‘When we were very young, yes. But my father thought Julianna was great, and he used to take her with him when he travelled. He travelled a lot, and I think it used to amuse him, to have such a gorgeous little girl calling him Papa. My mother and I stayed behind. Then we were booted out. I didn’t mind,’ she said diffidently. ‘Much.’ Then she shook herself. ‘No. That sounds iffy. My mother and I had some really good times after we got out of the royal bit. We stayed with my Aunty Cath in London. The three of us always dreamed of going adventuring together, but Mum had rheumatoid arthritis and Aunty Cath owned six cats. That’s a bit of a restriction where adventuring’s concerned.’

‘When did your mother die?’

‘When I was twenty. Two years after Aunty Cath. A year after the last cat.’

‘And then you met Max.’

‘So I did,’ she said diffidently. ‘And he was great.’

‘But an invalid?’

‘Not when I first knew him. We had almost a year when he was in remission-we thought he was cured.’

‘Did you marry him because you loved him?’ Nick asked before he could help himself. ‘Or because you felt sorry for him?’

Somewhat to his surprise, she answered seriously. ‘You know, it was a whole lot of things,’ she said. ‘Max was twenty-six, and seemed older because he’d been ill. He was so pleased to be well again. It was just lovely-he wanted to try everything, do everything. And his family…We’d hardly even been a family, and after Mama and Aunty Cath there was no one. We went up to Yorkshire the first Christmas after we’d met, and it was such a welcome. The whole town, one big family. It was like coming home again. It was only afterwards that I felt…’