“It's unladylike to run downstairs, Miss Millie, and well you know it.”

Fearing another argument Serena intervened. She slipped her hand into Mary's. “Mary, shall we go and fetch a basket from Cook? If we're to pick blackberries we will need something to put them in, will we not?”

“I'll run and get one. Wait here for me.” Millie was gone, with a flurry of fading blue calico and crisp starched cotton, leaving them no choice.

Emily laughed. “It's no good fretting, Mary. Millie will grow out of it; after all I did, did I not?” She watched the three depart, chattering happily, down the weed filled drive, and closed the heavy oak front door, returning to her duties. It seemed a lifetime since she had either the freedom, or the inclination, to dash about the place.

The past two years had been grey and oppressive. Angrily she slammed the study door behind her. Her maternal grandfather, the Earl of Westerham, was entirely to blame for their present miserable situation.

Her mother, Althea, had been born unexpectedly to the Countess when in her forties, and had been much petted and spoilt by both doting parents. Her older brother, Peregrine, had already left home and married when his parents presented him with an infant sister. He viewed the whole proceedings with extreme distaste and had never exchanged more than a few words with his sibling.

When Althea married, against the wishes of her parents, one Mr Peter Gibson, a country squire of impeccable birth but moderate income, her parents had been displeased. However all might have been well if the Countess had not died soon afterwards before they could be reconciled. The Earl blamed his daughter for his wife's death and never forgave her.

Whilst her father had been alive, Emily knew her mother had been able to contain her grief at the Earl's harsh treatment, but now the misery of losing her husband had uncovered the old wound and it was proving too much for her. Lady Althea was suffering from a nervous condition, which became worse as each day passed, which had started after she had become a widow.