Before Penelope could question further, Lady Sophia turned towards Francesca who had taken a seat near the opposite end of the sofa.
The words died in her throat.
"And you, my dear? Were you there when all this happened?" Lady Sophia asked.
Francesca looked up. "Yes, Mama."
"Did you see what happened?" She asked, her voice careful.
"I saw some of it," She replied.
"Goodness." Lady Sophia's expression softened with concern. "I hope you were not too distressed. I know how fond you are of your sister."
Francesca's gaze moved briefly towards Penelope. "Of course I was concerned."
She answered without hesitation, but something in the way she said it made Penelope look at her more carefully.
Francesca had always been expressive. Her feelings usually announced themselves before she could find the words to describe them.
When she was happy, she could barely contain her excitement; when something troubled her, her face betrayed it long before she was prepared to speak.
