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Richard was also right about it being a golden opportunity for her to sort out her thoughts away from the medical setting in which they spent so much time and as well as Richard, there would be one familiar face.  While on a trip to the theatre one evening last year, Richard and Ruth had bumped into Victoria, his bubbly younger sister, and Avril, her best friend, during the interval.  The girls were in their first year of reading English at St. Hilda’s and thoroughly enjoying the experience.  They had all met for drinks occasionally since then and Ruth felt very comfortable with Vicky so that was a bonus.  Although she wasn’t too sure about meeting his esteemed father, who was not only a Duke but also a proclaimed novelist in his own right, and then there would be Richard’s twin, Delia.  From what Richard had hinted, she did sound a bit formidable but no doubt with her wedding just on the horizon she would be nothing but ecstatically happy.  Ruth did hope so.

A taxi pulled up at the rank and Ruth jumped into the back.

“Walton Street, please,” she said to the driver.

The taxi driver glanced at the blonde girl with the trim figure with admiration.  He had picked her up before and knew she was a medical student.  He certainly wouldn’t be too unhappy if she had to minister to him at some time in the future.

*   *   *

Lady Victoria Canleigh zoomed through Leeds and up the A61 towards Harrogate in her tiny green MG Midget sports car, a gift from her father for her nineteenth birthday.  She laughed gaily, flashily overtaking a couple of cars driven by two elderly people who she considered far too old to be behind a driving wheel.  The tall, black, elegantly designed wrought iron gates at the entrance to Canleigh were open and Vicky swung the car through them and headed down the drive towards the house, determined that for once in her life she was not going to allow Delia to make her feel inferior.

The last time they had met had been the Christmas before last when their father decided they should all return to Canleigh for the festivities.  What a disaster that had been.  Vicky, recently diagnosed with anorexia nervosa was a mess and while Richard was understanding and helpful, determined to get her the help she needed as fast as possible, their father was appalled and out of his depth.  Delia was downright scathing and impatient of the whole nasty business.  Having always enjoyed a healthy appetite, Delia possessed no understanding of how anyone could refuse good, well-cooked food and starve themselves to death, conveniently forgetting how she hadn’t eaten for days after Mummy left and Granny died.

It had been a miserable Christmas and if Richard hadn’t whisked her to London and into a top clinic the day after Boxing Day, Vicky sometimes wondered if she would ever have set eyes on her home and family again.  However, those dark days were behind her now.  Declared fit and well last year after an almighty battle with the ghastly condition, she was enjoying her time at Oxford and then there was Barrie.  She grinned.  Barrie, a fellow student, was like a shining light, sent to help her get better.  He was such good fun.  He made her laugh and feel so very good about herself.  He flattered her constantly.  She was beautiful, she was witty, and she was a brilliant driver, a fabulous dancer … and eventually, after a long and intimate dinner date, a passionate woman.  He boosted her ego constantly and it was just what she had needed.  Barrie helped make her well again.  Darling, darling Barrie.

He would help her get through this weekend at Canleigh too and she only wished he were with her now.  Unfortunately, his aunt who lived in Manchester had suffered a debilitating stroke and hadn’t long to live so Vicky dropped him at the hospital where the poor woman was spending the last of her days.  He was going to stay with his Uncle for the night and then take the train to Leeds in the morning and Vicky would pick him up from the railway station.  She couldn’t wait to have him back beside her.  She really needed his presence to jolly her along.

At a point in the drive where the Hall was still out of view, Vicky stopped the car and checked herself in the mirror.  She looked good.  Her short black hair was glossy and sleek, her brown eyes were clear and sparkling, and her delicate teeth were perfectly white, even though she smoked incessantly, not forgetting the odd bit of cannabis thrown in for good measure.  Well, she couldn’t be good all of the time and she was at Oxford University after all!

Vicky re-started the car and moved off, her stomach churning alarmingly.  She would have given anything to have Barrie sitting beside her now.  She didn’t want to be nervous.  She was determined not to be.  The

cause of Vicky’s anorexia, according to her therapist, was a massive inferiority complex and her older sister seemed to loom large in Vicky’s problems but surely the dominant Delia would have softened now she was about to be married.

“Pull yourself together, girl,” she muttered as the house came into view and she could feel her confidence plummeting rapidly.  “Delia will not and cannot make you feel stupid any longer   . . .   and Richard, Ruth, Philip and Daddy will be here … and Delia will be so very happy about her wedding.  You have absolutely nothing to fear, Victoria.  Nothing at all.”

Defiantly, Vicky couldn’t resist announcing her arrival to all within earshot, pulling up her treasured car sharply beside the front steps of the house, tyres spinning so fast the gravel shot about like bullets from a gun.

In the few minutes it took Hardy, with a wide smile

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