Chapter One

Spring 1812

Gina Whitelaw was no beauty—a fact which was not immediately apparent to the watching bystanders who clustered about her coach.

Too short by a full head to be described as willowy, and blessed only with hair of an indeterminate shade of brown, it was difficult to understand the gasp of admiration which greeted her as she stepped into the street.

It was possibly the sheer perfection of her expensive toilette, the dashing bonnet, the beautifully cut redingote which clung so lovingly to her voluptuous curves, or the glimpse of a neatly turned ankle clad in fine leather half-boots.

A passing gentleman noticed none of these things. As she turned her head to speak to her coachman the well-remembered voice stopped him in mid-stride, leaving him feeling as if someone had just dealt him a sharp blow to the solar plexus.

Gina had not seen him. He stepped into the doorway across the street, feasting his eyes upon the face which had haunted him for the past ten years.

She hadn’t changed much in all that time. He would have known her anywhere. The brilliant blue gaze was just the same, as was the enchanting smile which curved that generous mouth.

His feelings threatened to overwhelm him. Surely she must sense his closeness. The bond between them had been so strong. Had they not agreed together that they were two halves of one whole? He waited, willing her to reach out to him across the years, but the separation had been too long. The old magic which had made them aware of the presence of each other at a distance had clearly vanished.

She turned away and walked into the house, smiling and chatting to the two girls who accompanied her.

Giles shuddered. Could they be her own? A moment’s reflection convinced him that it was impossible. The girls were well-grown teenagers. He looked again at the coach, and recognised the Whitelaw crest emblazoned on the doors. Clearly Gina was still connected with the family, but in what capacity? He was no expert in the finer points of fashion, but the exquisitely dressed creature who stepped down just a moment ago was obviously not a servant. Had Whitelaw made her his mistress? He clenched his fists until the knuckles whitened, miserably aware that he was fully deserving of the agony the notion caused him.

He had left her without a word of explanation, in a foreign country, and at the beck and call of her employers. He could only blame himself if Gina had taken the route followed by many another.

He was only half aware of the buzz of speculation which surrounded him. With the excitement of the new arrival over, the crowd was drifting away. Snatches of their conversation reached his ears.

‘’Tis high time the old Mansion House was taken,’ an elderly woman assured her friend. ‘’Twill be good for trade to have some new blood in the village.’

‘Aye! There will be many as will hope to make their fortune on the back of that young creature’s spending.’

‘I make no doubt she can afford it,’ the first speaker said. ‘The place is bought, not rented, so I hear, and at a price that you would not believe.’ She named a figure which made her companion gasp. ‘The builders are in already,’ she continued.

‘But who is she? And why come to Abbot Quincey? She looks to me more like a townie than a countrywoman. Them with money prefers the life in Lunnon, especially at her age.’

‘Don’t you know her? Oh I forgot, you being an in-comer an’ all. She’d gone by the time you came to live here. I recognised her at once. ’Tis Gina Westcott, the baker’s daughter.’

‘Oh my! I thought she was a lady.’ The note of disappointment in the second speaker’s voice was clear. ‘Ain’t she the one who ran away to see the world?’

‘Some such nonsense!’ her friend agreed. ‘Looks to me as if she’s seen more than the world…’ A leer accompanied this remark and brought a chuckle from the other woman.

Giles flushed with anger and moved away before he was tempted into a sharp retort. He turned into the Angel, and early as it was, he ordered a glass of brandy. Then he strolled over to the window and gazed back down the street towards the Mansion House.

What on earth had persuaded Gina to come back to Abbot Quincey? The snide remarks that he had overheard would be the first of many. She would be exposed to every kind of rumour and speculation. No one would call upon her, and she faced a life of bitter loneliness.

He could do nothing for her. Had it not been for his sister’s splendid marriage he would be living upon his uncle’s charity and the kind invitations of his friends. Sipping his drink, he sighed as he reflected upon the past ten years. Summoned from Italy and Gina’s arms, he had returned to Abbot Quincey at his uncle’s request in an attempt to save the family fortunes.

It had all been in vain. Hard as he had worked to restore the estate so badly neglected by his charming but feckless father, all had been lost on that dreadful night last year when Gareth Rushford had gambled away the last of his patrimony. Worse had followed when the father whom they loved in spite of his weakness had been crushed to death in a carriage accident.

‘Cheer up, old fellow! It can’t be as bad as all that!’

Giles turned to find his brother-in-law beside him.

Giles smiled in spite of himself. After an uneasy start he had grown fond of his eldest sister’s husband.

‘Will you join me, Isham?’ He gestured towards his glass.

‘I think I’d better if you are about to crush me with some dire news.’ Isham signalled to the landlord. ‘What is it, Giles? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘In a way I have. It is just that…well…I caught a glimpse of someone I used to know.’

‘I hope he isn’t about to run you through. What have you been up to?’

‘It’s nothing like that. And it isn’t a “he”. It’s a “she”.’

‘Oh dear! As bad as that?’ Isham began to smile. ‘Speak to the lady, Giles. I’m sure she will forgive you…’

‘I fear she won’t. It is too late for that.’ For a minute Giles was tempted to confide in the tall figure beside him. Then he thought better of it. There was Gina’s good name to consider. He made an effort to change the subject. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.

‘I’m planning to call upon an old friend. The promise was made some time ago.’

‘And India isn’t with you? She isn’t ill, I hope?’

‘On the contrary. She is in the best of health, if a little queasy in the mornings…She has been awaiting your return from Bristol for these past ten days or more.’

‘We were much delayed.’ Giles gave his brother-in-law a rueful smile. ‘Mama determined upon a triumphal progress to receive the congratulations of her friends upon Letty’s betrothal. I thought we’d never see Abbot Quincey again.’ He hesitated. ‘Anthony, I didn’t mean to stay away so long. I feel I’ve let you down…about managing the estate, I mean.’

‘Nonsense. If you had to be away it was best to go before the spring, and the ladies could not have travelled without an escort. In any case, I was glad you were not here when Henry died.’

Giles gripped his hand in quick sympathy. ‘What a brute I am not to have offered you my condolences! That was a bad business. How is his mother now?’

‘Lucia is recovering slowly…’ Lord Isham gazed into space. Best to let Giles believe that the man the world had regarded as his half-brother had died defending his loved ones from the mob. Only India and Henry’s mother knew the truth of it beside himself. Henry, not knowing that he was no blood relative to Isham, had come to the Grange that dreadful night to remove both India and his lordship from his path, believing that he would inherit title, wealth and lands. The mob he led would be used to cloak the murders. By a strange twist of fate he had been killed himself by a single shot fired by one of the Luddites.

‘Have the authorities caught the man?’ Giles was forced to repeat his question twice.

‘What?’ Recalled to the present, Isham shook his head. ‘I doubt if they ever will. The crowd was huge and it was dark. Now we are met by a wall of silence.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Forgive me, Giles, but I am late. I must present myself at the Mansion House without delay.’

He had not expected his words to produce the effect they did. Giles stiffened and went pale.

‘The Mansion House? Why, who…I mean…do you know the people there?’

‘Lady Whitelaw has just bought the place. Her husband was one of my closest friends.’

‘Great heavens, is her ladyship still alive? When I knew her she was at death’s door.’

‘When was that?’ Isham was clearly puzzled.

‘It was ten years ago…in Italy.’ Giles forced out the words through stiff lips. ‘She was not expected to live beyond the year’s end.’

Isham’s brow cleared. ‘Oh, you are thinking of Whitelaw’s first wife. Gina is blooming, as you may see for yourself if you accompany me. She married Whitelaw two years later. Did you not meet her when you were in Italy?’

‘Yes…! No…!’ Giles was reeling under a second shock that morning. Suddenly, he felt that his high cravat was choking him. If he didn’t get away he would betray himself. His little Gina married to a man almost old enough to be her grandfather! It didn’t bear thinking of. He made his excuses quickly.

‘Another time, perhaps? I must go. Mother and Letty will be waiting. We’ll see you at the Grange.’

‘I shan’t be long. The call is merely to see if Gina needs help in settling in.’ Isham accompanied him into the street and turned in the direction of the Mansion House.

Giles felt more confused than ever. If Gina had a husband why would she need Isham’s help? He was burning to know the answer and cursed himself for a coward, knowing in his heart that he had been unable to face her. What must she think of him, if, indeed, she thought of him at all?

He wasn’t proud of his behaviour. She had been such an open, friendly child, sixteen at the most. And at twenty how was he himself to know that what had started as a teasing, laughing friendship would develop so quickly into a passionate love affair.

His thoughts grew sombre. They had been so young, the pair of them. Perhaps, for her, the pain of that sudden separation had not struck so deep. There would have been bewilderment, a few tears, and possibly anger. Then she would have forgotten him. As he had forgotten her?

His lips twisted in a bitter grimace. Not a day had passed when she was absent from his thoughts.

On his return to England he had written to her, but she had not replied. In a Europe plunged once more into the turmoil of war after the collapse of the Treaty of Amiens he could not be sure that she had ever received his letters, or indeed, if she and the Whitelaw family were still alive. He had no way of finding them. All his enquiries had been fruitless, and Napoleon’s armies still ravaged the continent of Europe.

How many nights had he lain awake picturing unknown horrors? Sometimes he’d imagined her lifeless corpse beneath a pile of shattered masonry. He’d tried to close his eyes to a more terrifying fate. Gina might have been taken alive by an advancing army. He was under no illusion as to what would have happened then.

Now he made an effort to recover his composure. His worst fears had not been realised. Clearly, Gina was well and happy. For that, at least, he must be thankful, though he must face the fact that she was finally lost to him.

Something of the strain he was feeling must have shown upon his face. His sister noticed it at once.

‘Giles, is anything amiss?’ she asked quietly.

‘You may well ask, Letty!’ Mrs Rushford’s look of anxiety gave way to an expression of annoyance. ‘My dear boy, where have you been? I was persuaded that you had met with an accident. We have been waiting for you this age. I must hope that I haven’t caught a chill, standing about in this sharp wind.’

‘Mother, you should have waited in the coach.’

‘We have not been here above a minute,’ Letty assured him. ‘Hammonds had the goods we needed. It took some time to choose.’

Mrs Rushford tossed her head, ‘That’s as maybe! It does not take long for a woman of my delicate state of health to fall victim to an affliction of the lungs.’

‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I met Isham in the town.’

‘Was India with him?’ Mrs Rushford’s petulant expression didn’t change. ‘Do you tell me that they knew that we were here, and didn’t come to greet us?’

‘Isham was alone.’ Giles handed the ladies into the coach. ‘India is waiting at the Grange. She didn’t expect us until later in the day.’

‘Did I not say that there was no necessity to leave at such a ridiculously early hour this morning? But you would have it, Giles. All this rushing about will do my health no good at all. Had it not been for the invitation from Lady Wells I should not have considered travelling in the winter.’

Letty squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘But now it is the spring. Besides, you did it for me, and you dealt with Lady Wells so beautifully. In the end she raised no objection to my engagement to Oliver.’

‘I should think not indeed. She may consider herself fortunate to have formed a connection with the Ishams. It was far more than she might have hoped for in the marriage of a younger son. The woman is a positive toad-eater! I gave her a sharp set-down or two. Such pretensions! Isham will put her in her place, I make no doubt.’

Letty made haste to change the subject of her fearsome mother-in-law to be.

‘How is India? I have missed her so.’

‘Why Letty, she is blooming, so I hear, though Isham mentioned that she had been queasy…’

To his astonishment this innocuous piece of information resulted in his gaining his mother’s full attention.

‘Queasy, you say? Thank heavens for that! Oh, where is Isham? I must talk to him at once.’ Mrs Rushford leaned out of the carriage window and began to scan the street.

‘Mother, don’t distress yourself. India is not seriously ill.’

‘Of course she isn’t, you foolish creature! She is probably with child. Oh, drat the man! He is large enough for anyone to see him. Where can he have got to?’

‘He is paying a call on Lady Whitelaw,’ Giles said stiffly.

‘Lady Whitelaw? Who is she? I have not heard the name before…’

‘She has taken the old Mansion House…bought it, I believe…’

Mrs Rushford settled back against the leather cushions, her good humour quite restored. ‘Splendid! Splendid! I shall call upon her without delay. Does Isham know her well?’

‘Her husband is a friend of his.’ Giles signalled to the coachman and the carriage rolled away. This was not the time to explain that Lady Whitelaw was the former Gina Westcott, the baker’s daughter. Even her title might not be enough to wipe away that taint of trade.

Then he smiled to himself. Isham was more than a match for his snobbish mother-in-law. If he decreed that Lady Whitelaw was a welcome visitor, both she and her husband would be invited to the Grange.

For his own part, the thought filled him with trepidation. How was he to face her? Had his circumstances been different he would have gone away at once, but now, as estate manager, he was tied to the place.

She herself might refuse the invitation when she realised that Isham was married to his sister. On the other hand, she might accept, longing for revenge, and prepared to rejoice in his discomfiture. He lapsed into silence. He would have given much to have heard the result of Isham’s interview with Gina.

It would not have comforted him. Gina had welcomed her visitor with every appearance of pleasure.

Apparently untroubled by the bustle about her, she hurried towards his lordship holding out both her hands.

‘Anthony, you are a genius! How did you find this place?’

‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he teased. ‘No one had moved it.’ Isham glanced about him. ‘Will it suit you, Gina?’

‘It is perfect…exactly what I wanted!’ The vivid little face was alive with enthusiasm. ‘It was good of you to attend to all the details for me. I could never have done it from Scotland. My dear, I hated to ask you when you had so much else to think about.’

‘You didn’t ask me…I offered,’ he said lightly. ‘I’m always at your service. You must remember that.’

‘How can I forget it? You have done so much for me and the girls.’ She laid a sympathetic hand upon his arm. ‘I was so sorry to hear of your brother’s death.’

‘As was I to hear of the death of Whitelaw. He was always a good friend to me.’

‘He was one of the kindest people I ever met,’ she said simply. ‘I was lucky to have known him.’

‘He felt the same, my dear. He never tired of singing your praises. I can’t think what the family would have done without you. How are the girls?’

‘They are growing fast. I have two young ladies on my hands. Mair will have her Season next year.’

‘Great heavens! It doesn’t seem possible. I thought that they were still children.’

‘They are, in a way, but the young grow up before one knows it.’ Gina smiled. ‘Enough about our concerns…will you bring your wife to see me soon? We were all so delighted to learn of your marriage.’

The harsh face of her companion softened into an expression of the utmost tenderness. ‘I love her dearly, Gina, and now, though it is early days, we may have a child before the year is out.’

He made no attempt to disguise his delight and Gina jumped up and kissed him.

‘That is the best news in the world! Now you shall not bring her into Abbot Quincey over these dreadful roads. I shall come to you when it is convenient.’ Gina paused. ‘Does she know who I am?’

‘I haven’t discussed your affairs with anyone, but what difference can it make?’

She gave him a speculative look. ‘Never forget that I was the daughter of the baker in this village, Anthony. That fact will not sit well with everyone.’

She saw his face darken and made haste to reassure him. ‘You must not be angry with me. You, of all people, would not marry a petty-minded woman, but there are others who will not take so generous a view.’

‘Shall you care? I had thought that with this house and your title and…er…’

‘The fortune? Well, I won’t be mealy-mouthed about it. All that will help, but my antecedents will not be forgotten. I would not put your wife in a difficult position…’

Isham laughed aloud. ‘You do not know her yet. If there is one person likely to champion your cause it will be India. She tells me that I am a law unto myself, but the same applies to her.’

‘Even so, I feel that you should tell her about my former life. I did run away from here, you know.’

‘At fifteen, wasn’t it? I’ve often wondered about that. What made you leave your family? You took a dreadful chance, you know.’

‘I wanted to see the world.’ Gina was absorbed in straightening the fringe upon her cuff and she didn’t look at him. ‘I went in search of adventure.’ It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was as much as she would admit to.

‘Well, you certainly found that.’ Isham looked at the bent head and wondered. ‘Whitelaw told me often of your courage in facing bandits and mutinous seamen. Doesn’t anything frighten you?’

‘There was no point in being frightened.’ She gave him a merry look. ‘Much better to learn to use a pistol well and be prepared to use it. It is a powerful persuader in places such as India, especially when one does not speak the language.’

‘A telling argument, if ever I heard one!’ Isham laughed again. ‘Did you find the same in Europe and the Caribbean?’

‘I did.’ She shared in his amusement and then the laughter faded from her eyes. ‘There were the girls to think about,’ she said quietly. ‘And her ladyship grew worse throughout our travels, though Whitelaw searched unceasingly for a cure. When she died I thought that he would not recover.’

‘You were devoted to both of them, I think.’

‘I owed them so much. Oh, Anthony, even at fifteen I was not a complete fool. Had I not gone to them as nursemaid to the girls I might have lived a very different life, that is, if I had survived.’

Isham rose to his feet. ‘You are a born survivor, Gina. I have no doubt of that. After a brush with bandits a few old tabbies won’t distress you with their gossip. Now you will let me know if there is aught that I can do for you?’

‘I will.’ Gina held out her hand. ‘Thank you again, my friend. I’m sure we will be happy here.’

But Isham was still wondering as he walked back to the smithy. Why had Gina returned to Abbot Quincey when she might have settled anywhere in the country?

There was some hidden agenda, he was sure of it, sensing a certain reserve in the normally open manner of his old friend’s wife. It wasn’t like her, and it troubled him.

Had she returned to her birthplace with the intention of paying off old scores? No, that would be totally out of character. He would not even suspect her of a very human wish to flaunt her good fortune in front of those who might previously have despised her. That was not Gina. He knew her to be cheerful, dependable, and painfully honest. But there was something. He shook his head and went to find his horse.

Meantime, Gina was lost in thought. Her plans were going well, but there was still much to do. She looked up smiling as Mair and Elspeth came to find her.

‘Do you like your rooms?’ she asked.

Mair settled down beside her, resting her head against Gina’s knee. ‘Perfection!’ she said in a dreamy tone. ‘You were so clever to find this place.’

‘We have Lord Isham to thank for that,’ she told them. ‘You have just missed him.’

‘Oh, no!’ Elspeth was dismayed. Her hero-worship of his lordship had been the cause of much teasing within the family. ‘When is he to call again?’

‘We are to call upon Lord Isham and his wife,’ Gina said firmly. ‘Now Elspeth, do not pull a face. It is unbecoming. We are to wish his lordship happy, as you must agree.’

‘I thought he would not marry,’ Elspeth said ungraciously. ‘At least until…’

‘Until you were old enough to wed him?’ Mair giggled. ‘By that time he’d be in his dotage…’

‘Really, girls, this will not do! I will not have you speak so of a family friend. Now we have much to do. How does cook go on? I told her that our nuncheon should be light today. We shall eat it now. Then you may get back to your books.’

There was a united cry of despair.

‘Must we?’ Mair pleaded.

‘Indeed you must. Have I not explained so often the importance of an education?’

‘But darling Gina, there is so much time for that.’ Mair held her stepmother’s hand against her cheek. ‘May we not have a holiday, just for this one day?’

Gina glanced down at the fiery head. ‘Sometimes I despair of you,’ she scolded. ‘It has taken me a full ten years to educate myself. Now the task is in your own hands, if you will but take advantage of it.’

Elspeth took her other hand. ‘But you will help us, Gina, won’t you? Suppose we promise to work twice as hard tomorrow? You can’t mean to keep our noses to the grindstone all the time.’

‘I haven’t seen much evidence of that,’ Gina said solemnly. Then Mair looked up at her and saw the laughter in her eyes.

‘Why, Elspeth, she doesn’t mean a word of it.’ She jumped up, drawing Gina to her feet and grasping her sister’s other hand. ‘Time for a war-dance!’ she announced.

Whooping and stamping, the two girls drew their stepmother into a ring, chanting as they moved around.

‘Now we live in Abbot Quincey

All our parties will be princely.’

Gina shuddered. ‘That is certainly the worst verse I have ever heard. And which parties are these?’

The girls whirled her even faster.

‘Why, those that we give at my come-out,’ Mair cried breathlessly. ‘Shall we astonish the village, Gina?’

‘Nothing is more certain if you go on like this. I doubt if you will have to wait till then. The servants will be persuaded that we have run mad…’

This did not appear to be the case. The butler apparently found nothing untoward in the sight of his young mistress cavorting about the salon with her stepdaughters. Had he not been mindful of the need for a wooden expression he might have permitted himself a smile. As it was he announced that nuncheon was served, remarking only to the housekeeper that Madam seemed to be in the best of spirits.

‘And high time too. Madam is allus cheerful, but what a life she’s had! Naught but caring for the sick, as far as I can tell.’ Mrs Long gave him a speculative look. ‘Think you that she’ll settle here?’

‘Who can tell?’ Hanson had long ceased to wonder at the vagaries of his employers. ‘Shall you prefer it, Mrs Long?’

‘I don’t know yet, but there must be more life here than in the wilds of Scotland. Madam will be thinking of finding husbands for the girls within a year or two, and we ain’t so far from London.’

‘True! I expect that she will open up the London house this year. I’d welcome it, you know. The place was like a morgue when last I saw it.’

‘Her ladyship will change all that. Why, she might even find a husband of her own.’

Hanson bent his head in grave agreement. ‘The family is out of mourning now. We may expect visits from every fortune-hunter in the country.’

‘Then I hope that you will see them off, Mr Hanson.’

‘I shall certainly do my best.’ With that promise the butler left his confidante and proceeded to his duties.

Finding a husband was far from Gina’s mind as she rose from the dining-table.

‘Girls, I have a private call to make this afternoon. I shall not be away for long. Will you occupy yourselves?’

‘We shall explore the cellars and the attics,’ Elspeth promised. ‘This house is a perfect maze of secret places.’

Gina nodded. Then she hurried away to change her fashionable walking dress for a plain toilette. She waved aside Hanson’s suggestion of the carriage and turned left along the High Street, gazing at the old familiar surroundings with a pang of nostalgia. Abbot Quincey had not changed since her departure all those years ago and she recognised several of the passers-by, but her bonnet hid her face and no one greeted her.

A ten-minute walk brought her to her destination. The old sign was still above the shop and the door was open, but she hesitated by the window. She had rehearsed this moment for so long, but now her courage threatened to desert her.

Her heart was pounding painfully, but she took a few deep breaths. Then she walked into the shop.

‘Yes, Madam? May I help you?’ The woman behind the counter was an older, plumper version of Gina herself.

‘Don’t you know me, Mother?’ Gina was close to tears.

‘Gina?’ Eliza Westcott paled as she peered into her daughter’s face. ‘Is it really you? Oh, my love, I thought that you were lost to us for ever.’ She threw out her arms and Gina hurried to her.

‘There, don’t cry, Mama. I am home again.’

‘You wicked, wicked girl!’ Mrs Westcott was raining kisses upon her daughter’s face. ‘I can’t think why you left us in the first place. The worry almost killed us.’

‘That was foolish, Mama. I wrote to you each month.’

‘But from all those outlandish places, Gina. I had never heard of one half of them. You might have been murdered in your bed.’

‘But I wasn’t. And you knew I was safe in Scotland for these past few years.’

Mrs Westcott sniffed. ‘Safe in Scotland, indeed! There’s another wild place, or so I hear.’

‘The natives are quite friendly.’ Gina began to smile. ‘Is Father better now?’ She had gleaned little from her mother’s infrequent letters.

‘He is quite stout again, but still so cross with you.’ Mrs Westcott paused. ‘When you went away he blamed himself, you see. He still feels that he did not do his duty by you.’

‘That isn’t true, and I shall tell him so. Where is Father now?’

‘He’s in the bakery. Come through, my love, and sit by the fire. I will fetch him for you.’

Gina waited in some trepidation. As the youngest of the Westcott children she had been the apple of her father’s eye. She could understand his hurt, and she did not expect immediate forgiveness.

When she looked at the cold face she knew that she was right. He would not look her fully in the eye.

‘Come to honour us with a visit, your ladyship?’ he sneered. ‘I thank you for your condescension.’

‘I came because I am now free to do so, Father. As you know, my husband died last year. It has taken me some time to settle his affairs.’

‘So now you are come to queen it in the village? Well, good luck to you! You won’t be needing the likes of us.’

‘I’ve always needed you,’ Gina said quietly. ‘I’m sorry if I caused you hurt.’ She went to him and took his hand. ‘Won’t you forgive me, Father dear?’ She kissed his hand and raised it to her cheek.

It was too much for the master baker. With a groan he took his daughter in his arms and muffled his face against her hair. ‘You bad girl! What are we to do with you?’ His cheeks were wet and Gina hugged him close.

He took some time to recover his composure, but at last he smiled at her.

‘Well, Missy, when are you off again on your adventures?’

‘Never, I hope! I’ve taken the Mansion House in the village…The girls are with me, of course.’

George Westcott whistled in amazement. ‘You are flying high, my girl. That must have cost you a pretty penny.’

‘Whitelaw left me well provided for, Father. Tell me, how are William and Julia?’

‘Both well, I’m glad to say.’ Westcott’s face softened. ‘Wait until you see your nieces and nephews. Your brother’s little lads are as merry as grigs, and as to the young maids…’

‘Don’t get him started on the subject, Gina. To hear your father talk you would think that better girls had never been born. If the truth be told they twist him round their little fingers.’ Mrs Westcott looked wistful. ‘I could wish that you had children of your own, my dear. When you married we hoped…Well, perhaps it was not to be.’

Gina did not reply. This was no time to explain that her marriage had been one of convenience. Dearly as he loved her, Lord Whitelaw had made that clear. Never strong and no longer young, he was well aware that in the natural order of things he would die before her. Caring for her stepdaughters would be a grave responsibility. He had no wish to add to her burdens by leaving her with children of her own.

Gina had understood and she respected his decision, though she’d known it was not the full truth. For Alistair Whitelaw no woman would ever take the place of his beloved first wife. Her own marriage had been based upon trust and affection. She had never resented it, though her own heart had been given long ago.

She thrust aside the painful memories and picked up her bonnet. ‘You will come to see me, won’t you?’

Mrs Westcott looked at her husband. Then she nodded. ‘We’ll come in a day or two. Your Uncle Samuel and Aunt Mary are to visit us tomorrow with the children. You won’t want a houseful.’

Gina’s polite enquiry as to the welfare of her relatives was less than enthusiastic, but her parents noticed nothing amiss. For her own part her father’s brother was the last person she wished to see. Now a wealthy grain merchant, she could only be thankful that he was based in London. At some time in the future she would be forced to meet him again. As yet she was not ready to do so.

For the moment another unavoidable meeting filled her mind. Had she made the right decision in coming back to Abbot Quincey? For all she knew Giles might be married and a father. She had not dared to ask about him, fearing she would give herself away. Well, she would cross her bridges when she came to them.

She kissed her parents and walked back to the Mansion House.