16

September arrived, still bathed in sunshine, and voluptuously ripe.

Someone who looked closely might have discovered it to be too ripe. Apples with perfect skin housed maggots in their core. Chestnuts fell to the ground and split open. The haymaking was complete, but the hay had been stacked badly on the staddles, so mould was forming at the base of the ricks.

The Cheverton fields still hosted the corn crops. To a casual glance the wheat was ready for harvesting. But although the seed had fattened a little, the crop looked sparse to anyone with an experienced eye. An abundance of field mice were busy consuming more than their usual share.

Suffering from a fit a temper, Daniel called the overseer to the house. ‘Where are the field labourers?’

‘Can’t rightly say, sir.’

‘You can’t or you won’t?’ Daniel slapped his crop against his hand in a threatening gesture. ‘If it rains I shall lose the crop, and if I lose the crop you’ll be flogged. Tell them I’m off to the bank to withdraw their wages and if they don’t get on with their work, they won’t get any.’

Muttering resentfully to himself, the overseer, a solid-looking man nearing fifty years, moved off. ‘Flog me, would you? I’d break the crop over yon bleddy back, then piss on it, first, you young bastard.’

Damn them, Daniel thought. Most of the field labourers had worked on the estate for years. They should know better than himself how it was run. To make matters worse, he’d been forced to dismiss most of the house servants, for they’d been spying on him on behalf of Esmé. Well, he’d solved that problem, as he solved the problem of his wife. It was peaceful without her snooping around the house!

He thought he might take a ride over to Croxley Farm to ask Rudd Ponsonby’s advice. Then he might call on his godfather. At least the Reverend White would lend him a sympathetic ear.

His head ached badly today. And the sores from his neck were beginning to spread up into his scalp. He wondered if he should consult with the doctor again. But no, Noah Baines would only prescribe some foul-tasting elixir or another, the same as the high-priced fool in London had. It always made him feel lethargic, and dulled the pain only a little.

‘Did I feed Esmé today?’ he said out loud, and glared at the stable boy who stared at him with his mouth open. ‘What are you looking at, boy? Fetch my horse.’

Esmé had begged him to set her free the last time he’d visited her. Damn her, he thought, his conscience troubling him a little. If she hadn’t nagged so much he wouldn’t have locked her in the barred room in the first place.

Sweating slightly, for the day was warm and humid, he pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his forehead whilst the stable boy scurried to fetch his horse. Mounting, he headed out to the road. For a moment he hesitated, trying to remember what his plans were for the day. It wasn’t the trial; that was next month. Ah, yes, he was going to visit Croxley Farm, then his godfather.

Tomorrow he intended to visit his half-siblings, for he’d heard Siana had returned from Wales. She had given birth to another son, by all accounts, and she’d been widowed. He smiled at the thought. Perhaps now she would come home to where she belonged. He would welcome her children, and perhaps she would bear a son for him, too.

He began to feel better as he headed off towards Rudd Ponsonby’s. Once things were cleared up in his head, he always did.

The tenant farmer had several sons who worked side by side with him. Daniel liked Rudd, who always called him squire. Abbie Ponsonby and her girls were always respectful towards him, too. He’d taken a liking to Barbara, the eldest one, a tender little piece of about fourteen years. She was high-waisted with long legs and big, dark eyes, and her breasts were jutting little buds against her bodice. She’d blushed when she’d noticed him looking at them. He felt in his pocket. He’d brought the girl a brooch to wear, one of Esmé’s. It was silver, fashioned in the shape of a blue enamelled bow.

‘Rudd and the boys be ploughing the muck and clover in,’ Abbie told him, fussing around like a hen. ‘And the two young uns are off-colour today, but they be sleeping so they won’t be a bother.’ She turned to Barbara, all flustered. ‘Serve the squire some cake and tea and keep an ear out for the young uns while I fetches your father from the field.’

Daniel watched the girl bustle back and forth. She was growing out of her gown. Her breasts strained against it, and her limbs were tanned from the sun. He brought out the brooch for her to inspect, smiled at her. ‘See what I’ve brought for you, Barbara. Come over here and I’ll pin it to your gown.’

‘’Tis a right pretty bow,’ she said, coming to stand in front of him.

‘You’re a pretty girl.’ His mouth dried as he pinned it to her bodice, his knuckles brushed against her sweet, hard nubs. Sliding his arm around her waist, he gently drew her down onto his lap. ‘A nice gift like that deserves something in return.’

When she hung her head he fitted a finger under her chin and, lifting her face up, smiled at her. ‘What shall it be, Barbara? A kiss? Or will you allow me to tickle you?’

She gazed dumbly at him, her eyes slightly wary. ‘I ain’t tried kissin’ no boys, sir, though I be tickled sometimes by my brothers.’

‘Kissing is pleasant, you must try it,’ he urged, and gently kissed her. Her mouth was slightly open so he penetrated it with his tongue, delving into its depths, which were moist, but not unpleasantly so.

When he finished he gazed at her. ‘Did you liked being kissed?’

‘Kissin’ be right fancy, sir, but not as good as a tickle.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘like this?’ Slowly, he slid his palms up to her breasts and, cupping them, rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. They’d grown since he’d last seen her and nestled in his palms like a couple of plump, nesting robins.

Her face turned red and she mumbled, ‘Not ’zackly.’ The girl didn’t quite know what to do, so remained sitting there on his lap as he fondled them, with her face turned away. Her buttocks were firm against his thighs. When he spread his knees slightly, her thighs opened too, and her plump little venus opened against his nudging member. ‘Do you know what that is, Barbara?’

‘Yes, sir, I see’d a big un like that on a stallion, once,’ she said, and began to giggle. ‘It were nearly touching the ground. Something be wrong with the horse, though, fer it were all lathered up and squealin’ at the mares.’

He chuckled and whispered, ‘Would you like to touch mine?’

Just then Daniel heard Rudd and his wife talking as they came into the yard. There followed the clank of the pump handle.

The girl leaped from his lap like a scalded cat, saying breathlessly, ‘I think the kettle be boiling, sir.’

‘It is, indeed.’ So was he. The slut had known exactly what she’d been doing. Hastily, he placed his hat on his lap, keeping it there until his state became less conspicuous.

Rudd left his dirty boots outside the door, slipping into a pair of clogs his wife held out to him. Daniel stood, taking the work-roughened hand the man extended in a brief shake. Despite Rudd’s hasty wash, he smelled of cow dung and sweat, causing Daniel’s nostrils to pinch.

‘Good morning, squire,’ Rudd said as his glance went to his daughter, still red-faced and trying to stifle her giggles. ‘Where did the brooch come from, Barbara?’

‘Squire gave me it. It be a pretty thing, ain’t it?’

Daniel shrugged. ‘It’s a trinket I found in my pocket.’

‘Then I expect it belongs to your wife, sir. No offence meant, sir, but my Barbara had best give it back, for Mrs Ayres might miss it and accuse her of stealing it.’

‘Very well,’ Daniel said sulkily, holding his hand out for it. ‘I meant no harm.’

‘Of course you didn’t, sir.’ Daniel was steered into the best room, still furnished as his mother had left it. The house was spotlessly clean and smelled of polish. He took the winged chair, sitting with his legs slightly apart in the same stance his father had always adopted, his arms extended, his hands cupped over the knob on his cane.

‘Now, how can I be of assistance to you?’ Rudd said, turning a frown towards his daughter, who’d followed them in. ‘Go and help your mother with the tea things.’ When the girl hurried off, he added, ‘I’d be obliged if you didn’t bring the girl gifts, squire. Barbara be a foolish cheil at times, and I don’t want her gettin’ ideas above her station.’

‘It was nothing to make a fuss about. Don’t give it another moment’s thought. Actually, I’ve dropped in for this quarter’s rent,’ Daniel informed him, deciding not to ask this jumped-up labourer’s advice after all.

‘The rent’s not due until the corn’s been sold, and it’s usually paid to the agent. Wheat’s fetching a good price this year, I believe.’

A cry of alarm came from upstairs. Footsteps thudded down the stairs and Abbie poked her head inside the door, her face screwed up with worry. ‘The pair of them be running a high fever, our Rudd. And Eddie has broke out in a rash. I think the doctor be needed.’

‘Don’t get yourself all in a pucker, woman,’ Rudd soothed. ‘Barbara had a sore throat the day afore yesterday and it came to nuthin’. Still, if you be worried, send the girl on the donkey to fetch the sawbones. Tell her to take the short cut past the old cottage, and if she dawdles I’ll put the strap across her back when she gets home. I don’t know what’s got into that girl lately, but she allus seems to be in a daydream.’ Daniel was the recipient of a meaningful look. ‘I can’t spare any of the boys, we’ve got too much to do before the weather breaks. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me, sir?’

‘Come, man, surely the work can wait for half an hour or so. Let’s pass the time of day whilst your good woman feeds us.’ Perversely, Daniel relaxed back into his chair, wasting the man’s time as he consumed the refreshment he was offered. He was enjoying the power he had over the tenant as he watched the farmer champ at the bit.

Eventually, Daniel picked up his hat and smiled benevolently at them. ‘I’m on my way to visit my godfather, the Reverend White. I’ll give him your kind regards, shall I?’

Abbie dropped him a curtsy. ‘That be very nice of you, sir.’

After their unwanted guest had gone, Rudd gazed at Abbie. ‘There be something not quite right about Daniel Ayres. His eyes be shifty, and I don’t trust a man who can’t look at you straight. He ain’t like his father, that’s for sure. Edward Forbes might have been hard when his dander was raised, but he knew the land.’

Abbie shivered. ‘I heard tell that he has his wife locked up.’

Rudd laughed, squeezing her cushiony rump as she bustled past. ‘Now, don’t you go getting in a fret over gossip, else trouble will visit us. I’d be lockin’ you up if you was as skinny as that there woman of his. A man likes a nice warm handful to cuddle up to in bed.’

Abbie chuckled. ‘You keep your hands to yourself, Rudd Ponsonby, and your other bits. You know what the doctor said. No more cheils.’

‘He’ll think differently when he weds and has Peggy Hastings to whet his appetite, for she lost her youngster at birth and has the need inside her for another.’

‘She be a bonny girl, that one. Folks round here won’t forget how that Mrs Matheson helped her out, either. There’s a woman who doesn’t forget her roots. A pity she isn’t running Cheverton Estate for the little squire, for I reckon the labourers would heed her more than Daniel Ayres. They don’t like the way he looks at their wives and daughters.’

Suspicion brought worry to his eyes. ‘D’you reckon he was eyeing up our Barbara? She was blushing like a beetroot and giggling fit to bust.’ Rudd frowned. ‘When that maiden comes back you tell her I want to talk to her. I want to know ’zackly what that Forbes by-blow was up to with her.’

‘Thank goodness he was goin’ in a different direction,’ Abbie mused.

But Daniel had doubled back. Dismounted, he was waiting to intercept Barbara outside the old cottage.

Taking a hold of the donkey’s reins, he brought her to a stop and held a silver coin under her nose. ‘How would you like to earn a shilling for yourself, my dear? You’ll be able to buy some pretty ribbons for your hair at the market.’

Barbara’s eyes began to shine. ‘I be going to fetch the doctor, sir.’

‘It won’t take up much of your time.’ His hands spanned her waist. ‘I’ll give you the pretty brooch, as well. I know of a perfect place where you can hide it, in a hollow oak tree in the woods behind Croxley Farm.’

He took the brooch from his pocket and, laughing, held it out to her as he walked towards the cottage shell. ‘Come in here, there’s something I want to show you. A sweet little ferret which needs a burrow to hide itself in.’

‘I ain’t daft. I know what ’e be after. My dad said I’ve got to keep meself for when my true love comes along.’

‘Your dad won’t know. Besides, I am your true love. Why else would I bring you a gift? Come, Barbara. I’ll take you to the manor and give you a pretty gown afterwards.’

Unable to resist the lure of the gown and brooch, she followed him in, her hand closing around the trinket when they stopped.

Five minutes later she began to cry, a loud wailing noise that got on his nerves. ‘Shut up, will you.’

‘But you be hurtin’ me, sir.’

‘You stupid little slut,’ he shouted, placing his hand over her mouth. ‘It’s your own fault, you shouldn’t have led me on.’

The girl struggled and moaned against his hand as he finished his business, then sank her teeth into it. The little whore! Rage filled his body and his head began to throb with it. He wanted to cry out with the unrelenting pain squeezing at his head.

Incensed, he dragged her upright and punched her. She flew backward and hit the ground, her neck giving an ominous crack. The brooch fell from her hand.

Daniel stared at the girl. She was limp. The weight of her head made it hang at an unnatural angle over a stone, her eyes were staring, her mouth hung slackly open.

‘Oh God, she’s broken her neck,’ he muttered, adjusting his clothing. He stared at her a moment longer, wondering what he should do. Make it look like an accident, he thought.

He carried her out to the lane, placing her in the same position, her head over the same stone. Unconcerned, the donkey munched the grass at the side of the lane. Eventually, the animal would return home and someone would search for her. They would think she’d fallen from the donkey.

Mounting his horse, he turned its nose towards his godfather’s house. He hoped the reverend had some laudanum, for his head was aching so much he could hardly think straight. It would be best not to mention the still figure of the girl on the road.

By the time he reached the rectory, he’d convinced himself that there had been no fault on his side.

That same night, another of Abbie Ponsonby’s children died, from a convulsion brought on by scarlet fever.

Siana wasn’t pleased when Daniel turned up alone, and unannounced. He looked tired, she thought, and agitated. Walking from window to door, his fingers twined and twisted unceasingly, making her feel uneasy.

‘Black doesn’t suit you,’ he said abruptly.

At the Countess of Kylchester’s insistence Siana had adopted black in mourning for her husband. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to believe Francis was gone from her. He had been too alive and loving, giving her so much of himself in the short time they’d been wed.

There was a calm sense of waiting inside the real her, that other self who was wise in the ways of the earth. If she had to, she would wait for Francis until the end of time. She would see him again. And when that happened, she hoped they would never be parted. In the meantime, she had their family to care for.

Abruptly, Daniel stopped in front of her. ‘I’m sorry to hear about the demise of Francis. He was a worthy man in every sense of the word. You and the children are welcome to make your home in the manor with me.’

‘Thank you, Daniel, but that won’t be necessary.’ The smile she gave him was serene, despite the turbulence of her thoughts. ‘Won’t you sit down?’

‘I’m restless these days. I like to pace.’ He turned to gaze at her. ‘I believe you’ve been delivered of a son.’

She drew in a deep breath. ‘Bryn is over three months of age now and he has the Matheson looks. How is Esmé?’

‘Esmé?’ He passed a trembling hand over his forehead. ‘Ah, Esmé . . . yes, she is well, I think. She’s visiting her parents.’ He began to pace again. ‘Will my sister and brother be long?’

‘Their nurse will bring them down shortly. It’s a warm day, we can take refreshment on the terrace together and they can run around and enjoy the fresh air.’

He stopped his pacing to gaze down at her, chewing on his lip. ‘I suffer from headaches, Siana. The doctor in London gave me some medicament to take, but though it calms me down, it makes me melancholy. I’ve stopped taking it.’

‘You should consult with Dr Baines, he may be able to prescribe something better.’

‘Perhaps I will. Sometimes, I imagine I’ve done horrifying things, then I can’t remember what they were. Sometimes, I think I’m going mad.’

‘I’m sure you’re not.’

She was sure he was! There was an air of unpredictability about him, something that wasn’t quite right. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and kept trembling. Unease grew in her and she was relieved when she saw Josh coming from the stables, for she didn’t want to be left alone another moment with Daniel.

‘You are staying for a while, aren’t you, Josh?’ He caught the plea in her voice, and nodded. Kissing her cheek, he offered his hand to Daniel, then seated himself, crossing one long leg over the other. ‘I hear your corn hasn’t been harvested yet.’

‘The field labourers should have started on it today.’

Siana frowned. ‘It’s a little late in the year, isn’t it, Daniel? If it rains, you’ll lose it.’

‘The weather’s holding up so far.’ He sounded truculent.

‘But it’s been humid for the past two days and clouds are massing on the horizon out to sea. If the wind pushes that onto shore, there will be a storm.’

‘I told you, it’s being taken care of,’ he said shortly.

They moved onto the terrace when the refreshment arrived, the atmosphere strained and awkward. The children came down a few moments later. Ashley and Susannah had seen so little of Daniel they were hardly aware of their connection with him. He lifted them onto his knees to be kissed but they were boisterous after their rest and Daniel grew impatient with them when they wriggled to get away from him. The pair soon lost interest in him, joining Daisy and Goldie, who were searching through the grass for the last of the summer daisies to make chains with.

Daniel watched Ashley, his eyes hooded over. ‘It’s hard to believe someone as young as Ashley owns Cheverton Estate. Has provision been made in case he doesn’t survive his childhood?’

A cloud moved over the sun and Siana shivered. ‘Your father made his wishes clear in his will.’

‘Ah, yes . . . I’d forgotten. I must look at it again. Where is it?’

‘Where he left it, in his bureau.’ She wished Daniel would leave. His strangeness unnerved her and she didn’t like tempting fate with talk of death. How could Daniel have changed so much in such a short time?

Bryn, brought down for a brief inspection, received only a cursory glance. Maryse and Pansy were polite to Daniel, but he was hard to converse with as his attention skittered from one subject to the other.

Pansy got bored with playing the lady and involved herself with the smaller children. Maryse, uncomfortable in Daniel’s presence, begged to be excused after a short while. She went back indoors to practise on the piano.

Josh stayed until Daniel made a move to go, then said, ‘I’ll accompany you into town, if you like. I’ve got business to attend to. I believe you’re the magistrate trying Isabelle Collins for the murder of my sister, Hannah.’

Daniel nodded. ‘A cut and dried case. I’m looking forward to it.’

Josh gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Hannah was a miserable cow. Your father had a warrant out for her arrest when she died. She slaughtered most of the livestock at Croxley Farm out of spite, then sold it to the butcher.’

Blood filled Daniel’s face at the mention of Croxley Farm, but his colour receded, leaving his face ashen when Josh added, ‘I hear Rudd Ponsonby’s eldest girl has been killed.’

‘She was thrown from a donkey and broke her neck,’ Daniel stated with absolute conviction. ‘I had a meeting with Rudd, and the accident happened just after I left the place, I believe.’

‘Like hell, she did! When her mother laid her out there were signs that the poor kid had been got at. The bugger who dunnit tried to make it look like an accident. Abbie Ponsonby be out of her mind with grief. That same night, one of her other youngsters upped and died of scarlet fever. Doc Baines has quarantined the place to stop it spreading.’

Shocked, Siana stared at him. ‘Poor Abbie.’

Leaving his refreshment untouched, Daniel hastily scrambled to mount his horse. ‘I must be off. I have urgent matters to see to.’

‘I intend to call a meeting of the trustees next week. Your attendance will be expected,’ Siana said before he left, but she didn’t tell him she was going to insist that a competent steward be appointed for the estate.

Daniel didn’t answer. Relief filled her when he headed off down the carriageway at a canter and she turned to Josh. ‘Thanks for keeping me company.’

‘Any time, sis. That man’s wound up so tight he’s set to explode. You shouldn’t allow him to visit without his missus on his arm. A right piece of scrag end she be now, though, and a face as long as a yard of pump water.’

‘When he comes here uninvited to see Ashley and Susannah, I can’t just tell him to leave. Besides, his wife is away visiting her parents.’

‘A fat lot of attention he paid Suzie and Ashley. It’s you he came to see. He couldn’t keep his bleddy eyes off and I don’t like what I saw in them. You want to be careful of him, Siana. There be rumours about him, and none of them be good.’

‘When are rumours ever good?’ With a shock, she noticed how manly her brother had become. He was tall, lean and wiry and walked with a long, loping stride. His pale blue eyes were inherited from the Skinner family, as was his hair, darker now than the straw colour of his childhood. She reached up to run a palm over his chin and, feeling the rasp of whiskers, grinned. ‘Well now, shaving your chin, is it? You’ll be telling me you’ve got a sweetheart next.’

His grin widened. ‘I’ll be telling you nothin’ of the sort. And you can keep your nose out of my courting when I gets meself a girl. Besides, I’m only seventeen and have no intention of getting wed for quite a few years yet.’

‘Then why are you planning a house with five bedrooms for yourself?’ she teased.

Josh shrugged. ‘A house is an investment. When it’s built, it’ll bring me in a good rent from the nobs. They like a bit of space around them, for they ain’t used to huddling together like fleas in a cat’s armpit. When I get around to moving in meself, someone else’s money will have paid for every brick.’

Siana laughed. ‘You were always a pinch-penny, Josh Skinner.’

‘I’m just careful with my money. ’Sides, where else can I put my family when they come to visit me? You and me have gone up in the world, our Siana. We ain’t used to sleeping five to a bed no more. I’ve got things to learn afore I takes me a wife, too. Giles Dennings is teaching me to write and do numbers, so nobody cheats me. The numbers is easy to understand and he’s making me keep a set of books for practice. When I get to be a bit older and I knows a bit more, he said I can apply to join the businessmen’s institute.’ He choked out a laugh. ‘Ma would turn in her grave if she could see us now.’

‘More likely, she’d pick up her skirts and dance.’ Josh jerked his head towards their sister. ‘When are you going to tell our Daisy that you’re not her ma?’

‘I don’t know, I haven’t given it much thought. When she’s Maryse’s age, I suppose.’

His nod displayed his dubiety. ‘Just so I knows, in case I puts my foot in it. I reckon you know what you be doing, but our Daisy might not thank you when she finds out you’ve been lying to her for all these years.’

‘I haven’t lied, Josh.’

‘But you haven’t told her she’s not your daughter, so that’s the same thing, ain’t it? She knows I’m her brother and she knows you’re my sister. One day she’s going to figure things out.’

Feeling unsettled, Siana’s glance went to the children romping in the garden. Daisy was beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes, though she was a handful, at times. Goldie’s hair was spun from pure gold. She was a quiet little girl for most of the time, but her wit was more than a match for Daisy.

Susannah was a dainty copy of her elegant mother, Elizabeth. She’d settled in well with the family, and it was going to be a huge wrench when her mother reclaimed her. Then there was Ashley – her beloved Ashley, the little squire, the child of her womb. He was a charmer with his soft dark curls and beautiful smile. How she adored him. He’d be a wonderful elder brother for Bryn.

She scooped him up in her arms as he ran past, kissing his neck and blowing into his curls so he giggled and wriggled in her arms.

Josh grinned. ‘I remember Ma doing that to me. It’s been over five years now and I still think of her every day.’

‘So do I.’ Siana smiled softly as she reminisced. ‘Ma used to say, “I love this skinny little lad of mine so much I could munch his toes off him,” and you’d wriggle your toes and scream with laughter when she’d put them in her mouth.’

Their laughter faded as they shared a glance and Josh said gruffly, ‘I miss her something cruel at times, Siana. I don’t know what I’d have done without you to turn to. Sometimes you say things she used to say, and you remind me of her so much.’

She ruffled his hair, happy to share this moment in memory of their mother. ‘Our ma loved us, Josh, she’d have wanted us to look after each other.’

Immediately she thought of Bryn, born of a vicious attack to a girl scarcely out of childhood – a vulnerable girl, an innocent who had known nothing but gentleness all her life.

If the facts were brought to light, otherwise decent people would condemn Maryse, and consider Bryn as human rubbish. Well, he was worth something to her, she thought fiercely, and she would bring him up knowing that worth. Besides herself, only Marcus Ibsen knew the truth about Bryn’s parentage, and he would keep his silence.

She hoped the pair who’d attacked Maryse rotted in hell for their act.

Marcus Ibsen’s pilgrimage was over. He was in his uncle’s London house.

There had been a feast on his return. It had surprised him when he’d been able to don his old persona like a snake climbing back into its skin. The other him, with its ancient instincts, passion and darkness, would claim him from time to time, he knew.

‘I have decided not to follow in my father’s footsteps and take up a career as a minister. I’d find the vocation too constricting,’ he’d informed his uncle on his return. ‘After I finish my studies, I intend to buy a small country estate with my inheritance. There, I will pursue further studies, play the philanthropist, travel from time to time, and eventually take a wife for myself and produce some offspring. I hope you approve.’

‘Heartily,’ his uncle had told him. ‘Having a bishop for a father was difficult enough for someone with your questioning intellect and you’ve never pretended to be a total believer.’

Marcus was not the same man who’d left his uncle’s house two years previously. He’d found what he’d been seeking, a sense of self. That self had been revealed to him, but not by the preacher, Gruffydd Evans, who’d indulged in self-pity and dramatics. It had been revealed by his daughter, Siana, a woman of strength and acceptance, whose soul had opened to his at that meeting on the hilltop.

He would never believe that meeting was chance. He and Siana Matheson had been destined to meet and the reason for it became clear to him at Bryn Dwr.

Marcus had fallen deeply in love with Maryse, a girl hardly out of the schoolroom, who’d been violated in the cruellest way and imagined herself unworthy and unclean as a consequence.

He’d never thought love could hurt so much or bring out the need to protect in him. How brave she’d been, and how lucky to have Siana to guide her at her time of trial.

He would have taken the infant as well, brought him up as his own. But the child would have been a constant reminder to Maryse, and besides, Siana Matheson had needed the unfortunate infant herself.

Deep down, Marcus knew Siana would need Bryn again in the near future, for he’d sensed something around her. She’d denied the fates that day on the cliff top. She’d risked her life for Maryse, and the infant she carried. She’d defied the elements to snatch Maryse from the jaws of death, and he’d aided her in that. There would be a reckoning, there always was. But would it be her reckoning, or his?

‘“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven”’ he murmured. ‘“A time to be born, and a time to die . . .”’

He’d felt such rage at Bryn Dwr. Not because the girl he’d grown to love had been despoiled, but because she would always fear that she might encounter again the scum who’d hurt her.

‘“A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.”’

He wondered what the perpetrators of the crime were doing now.

His eyes sharpened and his mouth stretched into a thin smile as he quoted, ‘“A time to kill, and a time to heal. . .”’