“And your servants have been nursing him?” the lady asked. “How very very kind. You must allow me to thank them.”
“As we are very short-staffed,” Mariota said with a little smile, “I have had to do more of the nursing myself, while my father and our manservant, who is very old, have washed and shaved him.”
“Is Lord Fordcombe your father?”
“Yes.”
“And your name is the same?”
“My name is Mariota Forde.”
“And mine is Noreen Coddington. My husband, Lord Coddington, was killed in the war, so I am now very much alone. So you can see how much my brother means to me.”
“Of course I understand,” Mariota replied. “I too have a brother who means a great deal to me.”
She thought it might be a mistake to mention Jeremy, but, as he was not there, it could not be of any consequence.
They walked a
