Konstantin’s understanding of women had inevitably been formed by his sisters and mother. Delia had been a lady, a trait she had passed along to Ros and Xena alone in his estimation and he could easily imagine his mother, and sisters, being quite put out to be soaked through to the skin. It was how ladies reacted. Conversely Zelda and Katia had never minded such things but he had never really thought of them as being delicate creatures at the best of times.

Uninformed as he was Kons had assumed that all women were either one or the other. And yet here was Miss Amelia Evans, still smiling and gay, wringing rainwater from her clothing while trickles dripped down her face as though Millais himself had placed them there.

Momentarily distracted from the weddings he wondered whether the gods had in fact finally decided to take pity on him, even if they were doing it in a most baffling way.

“I doubt the Lestranges believe in higher gods than themselves,” he commented once he had regained the power of speech, wondering whether he ought to offer to dry them off or just enjoy the view.

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