At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. "I believe I'll tear them up. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. ’ Hilary Roding groaned, but obediently followed Gerald as he began to make his way through the trees towards the back to a vantage point from where they might examine the rear of Remenham House.
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