No matter how much I asked he would not explain what he meant. ‘Trust this old man,’ he said.

As I stood in front of the mirror, the memory of that night was so clear I could almost smell the burning logs, see the wicked gleam that shone in his cunning eyes, and hear the rich timbre of his voice. I touched my hat and his voice filled my head.

‘A good hat is a thing of beauty, but worn at the right angle it is a work of art.’

Of their own accord my hands moved to tilt the hat to a rakish angle.

I smiled at the effect. ‘You were right, Robert. A small tilt makes all the difference.’

Without warning, pain like a stone wedged in my chest. Oh, Robert. I will never see your kind, clever face again. Suddenly the cocoon of protective numbness was ripped from around me and I felt as if my world was spinning out of control. Oh my God! All those people waiting for me and every single one of them bearing hostility and envy in their hearts. I felt as nervous as a long-tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I placed my palm on my midriff and took deep breaths.

You need to be one hundred percent, Tawny. It’s an elite club you’ve wandered into. You can’t let our side down.

I looked into the mirror, my eyes were wide and panicked. No, this won’t do. I forced myself to think of my mother.

‘Oh, Mama. I’m afraid,’ I whispered.

The last thing she told me before she died floated into my head. ‘Ain’t nothing to be afraid of, honey. Take a deep breath and count to what you are. A ten.’

I started to count. There was a discreet knock on the door and I whirled around and walked quickly into my bedroom. ‘Come in,’ I called.

The housekeeper stood holding the door handle. ‘The car is here. Are you ready, Mam?’ she asked.

Oh, how I miss being back in warmth of the Southern states again. Everyone here was just so damn polite and so hidden. There were layers and layers of mannerisms to trip on and show yourself up as the foreigner, the person who did not belong.

‘Yes,’ I told her nervously.

‘Good. It’s getting late and the car is waiting downstairs.’

‘Thank you, Mary.’

She nodded and closed the door softly.

I went to the dresser and picked up a framed photograph of Robert and me. My arms were thrown around him. The sun was shining and we were both laughing. It was taken during my first summer in Barrington Manor. I didn’t know he was ill then. He did though. My heart felt like it was in a vise. I put the photograph down, slipped into a thick woolen coat, and pulled on my black gloves. Deep breath, I told myself and went down the curving stairs and out through the great doors.

Outside it had stopped snowing, and there was neither wind nor cloud. Just sub-zero temperatures and everything covered in a pristine layer of white. Even the leaf stems were white and sharp. Winter was always my favorite time at Barrington Manor. I looked around at the still wonderland with a kind of dull pleasure. I recognized its beauty even though I was too heavy hearted to actually appreciate it.

Still, how bizarre! All this now belonged to me.

The chauffeur opened the back door of the black Rolls Royce. I walked up to the car and with a grateful smile in his direction, slipped into it. It was warm inside the car. I breathed in the apple scented air-freshener and arranged my skirt over my legs. Then I leaned back and calmly stared out of the window at the passing scenery. My mind was mercifully blank. I would make it through this ordeal. I would wear my brave face. No one would ever know what I was really feeling.

Let them think I was a cold bitch.