Seventeen

‘No, she hasn’t come home,’ Ellen said when the two men entered the farmhouse kitchen. ‘Where on earth could the silly girl be? Staying out until this hour.’

‘Mrs Forrest thinks she might have been meeting someone,’ Tom said grimly. ‘If it weren’t for what happened to Carrie I’d leave her to it but she might be hurt or in trouble. We’re going to search for her.’

‘I’ll rouse some help,’ Ellen said. ‘We need to get men from the village, Tom. There’s a murderer out there somewhere. He got away with killing our Carrie. If he’s done for Mary Jane as well, no one is safe.’

‘I’ll do that, Mrs Blake,’ John Forrest said. ‘You stay here in case Mary Jane comes back. You’ve got Mr Blake and the babe to watch.’

Ellen agreed and stood staring at the kitchen door as it closed behind them. She’d put Tom’s supper into the oven to keep warm but he’d likely be out all night looking for that wretched girl. It was her fault. She’d pushed him into getting married when she’d known he was hankering after the Thornton girl.

A horrible thought crept into Ellen’s mind. Tom wouldn’t have done anything stupid, would he? Immediately she was ashamed of the thought. Tom had done his best to make Mary Jane happy even though he didn’t love her. He was young and strong and a good many in his shoes would go off and find an easier life.

Ellen knew she hadn’t been exactly fair to her son of late. If anything had happened to Mary Jane . . .

God forbid! No doubt the selfish girl was just off gallivanting with a young fellow who’d taken her fancy.

There was no moon that night and few stars, which made it difficult to see very far ahead. Roz had ridden this way often when she was a young girl and her father was alive, and she handled the trap easily. Julia’s grooms were riding ahead and they shouted out when they saw a horse tied outside the cottage.

Roz tugged on the reins, bringing her horse to a halt. One of the grooms had dismounted and came to help her and Julia down. He looked at her doubtfully.

‘It might be best if me and Jem went in first, Mrs Rushden. The door’s wide open. It’s a cold night to leave the door open.’

‘Thank you, Rogers,’ Roz said. ‘I should be grateful if you will both accompany us. I have a feeling that something is very wrong here.’

Her fingers curled into the palms. Philip had been in a terrible mood when he’d visited her. He needed more money than she could give him. Surely he hadn’t done anything desperate?

Holding her lantern firmly in her right hand, Roz offered her left to Julia, who took it. She was shivering and clearly apprehensive.

‘Would you rather wait here?’

‘No, I’m coming with you.’ Julia’s eyes were wide and fearful. ‘Something bad has happened, Roz. I can feel it.’

‘Yes, I know. I feel it too.’

Holding hands and picking their way carefully through the rough grass, they walked into the cottage behind Rogers. A lamp was burning in a room at the back of the house and there was an unpleasant smell that Roz could not place. The groom entered the room ahead of them and then gave a cry of alarm. He turned towards them urgently.

‘You’d best not see this, either of you.’

‘Please let me pass, Rogers. I would rather know what has . . .’ Roz’s words drained away as he stepped to one side and she saw that there was not one but two bodies lying on the floor of the small parlour. One was a man with his face beaten to a pulp and the other was a woman. ‘Oh my God,’ Roz whispered. ‘Is she dead too?’

Jem had knelt by the woman, turning her over so that he could see her face. He jerked back with a gagging sound. ‘It’s Mary Jane Forrest – leastwise, she was a Forrest. She married Tom Blake a few months back.’

‘Was she beaten too?’

‘It looks to me as if she was strangled,’ Jem said. ‘She’d been hanging around with Jack Dawson recently. He told me she were fed up being married and . . .’ Jem broke off, as if realizing he’d said too much.

‘Is it Philip? His face . . . I don’t know if it’s him . . .’ A sob left Julia’s lips. ‘I think . . . they look like Philip’s clothes.’

‘Yes, they are. He is wearing a ring Father gave him on the little finger of his right hand. I’m so very sorry . . .’ Roz broke off as Julia gave a little scream and fainted.

Jem moved to support her and lowered her into an armchair. Roz went to her, taking her hand as her eyelids flickered.

‘I’m so very sorry, Julia. I don’t know what happened here. We must summon help.’ She looked up at the grooms, who were staring at the body of their late master in evident dismay. ‘Jem, please drive your mistress home at once. You must send someone to fetch Sir George Ickleton. He is a magistrate and will know what is to be done here. Also, someone must go to the Blakes’ house and tell them that Tom is needed here – and then bring the trap back for me, please.’

‘Come with me, Roz,’ Julia begged. ‘I can’t stay here and I don’t want to be alone.’

‘I have to stay here for the moment,’ Roz said and squeezed her hand. ‘Rogers can’t stay here alone until the magistrate comes. Mrs Monks will look after you, dearest, and as soon as I can I shall come to you. I shall stay with you tonight. Philip was my brother and I owe him this much.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Julia brushed a hand over her eyes. ‘You’re always so sensible and so good to me, Roz. I’ll do as you ask.’

Roz embraced her. ‘You are brave and generous, Julia. The best thing that ever happened to Philip if he’d had the sense to see it.’

‘And you are the best thing that happened to me.’ Julia kissed her cheek.

Roz went to the door of the cottage and watched as Jem drove her away in the trap, then returned to where Rogers was waiting.

‘What do you think happened here?’

He hesitated. ‘It looks as if Sir Philip attacked the girl and killed her and then someone found them and went wild. Jack Dawson has a fearful temper when roused, Mrs Rushden. He was always sweet on Mary Jane and got drunk three nights in a row when she wed. If he knew the master had killed her . . .’

‘I think my brother killed another girl – Carrie Blake,’ Roz said, sensing that the groom she’d chosen to stay was loyal to her. ‘If by chance Mary Jane knew something . . . she might have asked him for money and provoked the attack.’

‘Maybe he wanted to lie with her and she refused him. He was a bit rough with the women at times – begging your pardon, miss, but that’s what I’ve heard.’

‘She must have known that Philip came here – and she came because she wanted something from him.’ She knelt by Philip’s body and put her hand in his coat pocket. Glancing up, she saw the groom’s shocked look. ‘I gave Philip some money earlier this evening. He doesn’t have it. I think someone knew Mary Jane was going to ask for money and after she was killed he went wild, beat Philip to death, took his money and ran.’

‘He didn’t take the horse or the ring.’

‘Both of which could be traced back to Philip. Whoever did it was scared but he wanted money to get away. I suggest that if Jack Dawson doesn’t show up for work we know who the culprit is here.’

‘Will you tell the magistrate that, Mrs Rushden?’

‘It isn’t for me to do his job,’ Roz said as she stood up. ‘I just wanted to be sure in my own mind.’

‘Yes,’ Rogers agreed. ‘That sounds about right to me, ma’am – but I wouldn’t want to get Jack into trouble unless I was certain.’

‘We’ll simply tell the magistrate what we found and leave it to . . .’ She broke off as she heard something in the hall and turned to face the man who had just entered. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him. ‘Tom . . . I’m so very sorry. I sent someone to tell you but they can’t have . . .’ His face told her that he didn’t know.

‘I saw the door open and horses,’ Tom said, advancing into the room. ‘I was looking for . . . Mary Jane!’ He shot an angry glance at Roz. ‘My wife – what happened here?’

‘We aren’t sure,’ Roz said as he knelt by his wife’s side, touching her face gently as he saw the signs of violent assault. Her blue lips, popping eyes and protruding tongue combined with dark marks about her throat pointed to the manner of her death. ‘Tom, I’m so sorry. Julia and I came to look for Philip. He has been missing since Christmas Day but he visited me earlier today and we thought he might be here.’

Tom rose to his feet. ‘Mary Jane has been meeting someone recently. I thought it was . . .’ His eyes held an angry glitter. ‘If she’s been with him . . . Damn his cheating soul to hell! He wasn’t satisfied with ruining Carrie – he had to have Mary Jane too.’

‘I’m sorry, Tom. I don’t know what happened here – but it looks as if my brother may have killed your wife.’

‘If he did that means someone else killed him.’ Tom nodded grimly. ‘The silly girl had been meeting Jack Dawson. I had no idea until her mother told me that’s where she might be when she didn’t come home this evening.’

‘So it’s true. I didn’t want you to suffer more than you must be already.’

Tom’s gaze was fierce as he met hers. ‘I should never have married her. She knew I wasn’t in love with her. If I’d been a better husband she wouldn’t have strayed.’

‘You can’t blame yourself for this, Tom.’

‘What have you done about reporting this?’

‘I’ve sent someone to fetch Sir George Ickleton. He will know what we must do now.’

‘You shouldn’t be here. I saw no sign of your horse?’

‘I drove Julia over in the trap. My groom will bring it back and then collect his horse.’ Roz met his furious gaze. ‘I shall stay here until the magistrate comes. Whatever Philip is, whatever he may have done, he is still my brother.’

‘I suppose I can’t force you to leave.’

‘No, you can’t.’

‘Stay then, if you must.’

Tom took the chenille cloth from the table and covered Mary Jane’s body, then went into a back room and came back with a patchwork quilt which he placed over Philip.

‘There’s a table and chairs in the kitchen – and I saw a bottle of wine. Why don’t we wait there?’ He glanced at Rogers, who had been silent since he arrived. ‘I don’t know about you, but I could do with a drop of something. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Mary Jane’s parents. I’m just glad it was me that came this way instead of John Forrest.’

‘Thank you,’ Roz said as the groom helped her down from the trap. She looked up at the house and saw candles were burning in all the front windows. ‘I’m not certain I could’ve managed this evening without your help.’

‘I was glad to be there, Miss Roz.’ He paused, then: ‘They will be out looking for Jack Dawson in the morning. I wouldn’t have said what I know if Tom Blake hadn’t said it first – but it seems the magistrate agreed there had to be a third person.’

‘Yes, that much is obvious. Mr Blake was very angry over his wife’s murder, which is perfectly natural.’

She nodded to him and walked up to the house. Mrs Monks was waiting for her in the hall.

‘How is my sister-in-law?’

‘In terrible distress, Mrs Rushden. She was hysterical when she came home and I had to give her a little slap. I put her to bed and sent for the doctor. He gave her a sleeping draught and she’s settled down now.’

‘Poor Julia. She’s had so much to bear recently. It was all distressing and I ought to have come with her – but I couldn’t leave Rogers there alone. It was important to speak to the magistrate.’

‘It’s been just as bad for you, ma’am,’ Mrs Monks said and pursed her mouth. ‘Losing your husband like that – you’re both widows now.’ She shook her head in distress. ‘Everyone is saying that the master did for Mr Rushden.’

‘Yes, perhaps. We may never know,’ Roz said. She couldn’t help thinking that he’d got what he deserved in the end – and feeling guilty because if she’d told someone about Philip long ago Tom’s wife might still be alive. ‘I should like some tea, Mrs Monks. Do you think you could bring it up to my room, please?’ She took a few steps towards the stairs, stopped and looked back. ‘Mama! It is too late to send a message tonight. Please have Rogers fetch her in the trap before breakfast. I must stay here for Julia and I would rather Mama heard the news from me.’

‘Yes, ma’am. It isn’t right you should have to bear this alone.’

‘I have no choice.’ Roz pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘I’m a little tired. If you would bring the tea up yourself, please.’

‘Yes, of course, ma’am.’ The housekeeper stalled. ‘What will happen to the estate now, Mrs Rushden?’

‘I imagine it will have to be sold. My brother was in debt, I believe. I shall do what I can for the servants but . . .’ She sighed and shook her head before going upstairs.

Alone in her room, Roz undressed and pulled on a satin robe, then sat at the dressing table and took the pins from her hair. Her hair shone; thick and luxuriant it cascaded on to her shoulders. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

How angry Tom had been when he looked at her – almost as if he hated Roz and blamed her for what had happened to his wife.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered and wiped the tears from her cheek. ‘In a way I let this happen. Oh, Tom, what am I going to do?’

There was no one to answer her question. Tom Blake had made love to her once but it seemed so long ago and so much had happened since. How could she even think of a relationship between them now? It was impossible. Philip had caused their family such harm. Even if she had no proof, Roz was certain that he was the father of Carrie’s child and he had caused her death, though he claimed it was an accident. Yet he’d deliberately murdered Harry and he must have known what he was doing when he strangled that girl. Perhaps he was so desperate that he’d lost his mind. What she’d discovered at the cottage was clear enough for Roz to be certain in her own mind that Philip had strangled Tom Blake’s wife.

Even if Tom had truly loved Roz that must be an insurmountable barrier between them.

Roz went to her bed and climbed in as the housekeeper brought in a tray of tea, which she placed across her lap.

‘Can you manage like that, ma’am?’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Roz said. ‘Mrs Monks – if the house is sold I shall buy a small house for my mother, and Julia, if she wishes to make her home with Mama. Would you be prepared to take a position with them? It would not be as important a job as here, I’m afraid. I dare say Mama will live quietly.’

‘I shall be pleased to accept, ma’am. Lady Thornton is a good employer and so was your mama.’

‘Very well, we must see what happens.’ Roz smiled. ‘Goodnight, and thank you for the tea.’

Sipping her tea after the housekeeper had left, Roz thought about the future. If she did not have a son she would be forced to move out of her home. She did not think she could bear to live with her mother, but if she moved from Rushden Towers she might be forced to do so – or live in a house on Harry’s cousin estate. The look in Keith Rushden’s eyes at Harry’s funeral had made her a little apprehensive of being at his mercy. One unwise marriage had made her wary of another.

‘Oh, Philip,’ she said as she moved her tray to a bedside chest and snuggled down into her bed. ‘Why did you have to do so many terrible things?’

‘What has happened?’ Lady Thornton asked as she swept into the breakfast room the next morning. ‘Is Julia ill again? Where is she? And what was so important that I must come before I’ve had my breakfast?’ Lady Thornton sat down and nodded to the maid. ‘I’ll have tea unless it is stewed. I suppose it is too much to expect a fresh pot?’

‘Please fetch my mother fresh tea, Tilda. I have some bad news, Mama. I fear it will distress you – but I cannot change what has happened.’

‘Is it Philip? Has he been gambling?’

‘Yes, Philip has got himself into trouble with his gambling, Mama – but I fear it is much worse. I am so sorry but I cannot make it easy for you . . . Philip is dead.’

‘Dead?’ The colour washed from Lady Thornton’s face. ‘My son is dead? What are you talking about, Roz? It simply cannot be . . .’

Lavender water wafted towards Roz as her mother dabbed at her eyes with a kerchief.

‘Forgive me, Mama. Julia and I found him last night at the old estate manager’s cottage. He had been beaten to death.’

A moan of grief issued from behind the lace and lavender water. ‘Who would kill my son? I cannot believe it – there must be a mistake.’

‘I wish it were a mistake, Mama. I’m afraid there is worse.’

‘How could anything be worse?’ Lady Thornton stared at her belligerently. ‘I know you did not care for Philip – but I loved him.’

‘Julia loves him, Mama. She is grieving terribly but she knows the truth. Philip was not alone. There was a woman with him in the cottage and she had been murdered.’

‘Was it that flighty piece who stayed at your house?’

‘No, Mama. It was Tom Blake’s wife. We think – it is not certain – but it looks as if Philip strangled Mrs Blake and was then beaten by a third person in revenge for what he did.’

Roz’s mother stood up. ‘How dare you say such a thing to me? I shall not listen to such foul slander. Whoever killed Philip killed that woman. My son is innocent.’

‘Mama, please do not hate me. I cannot change things. I know you loved him but he was not as honourable as you wish to believe.’

‘I shall go up and speak to Julia. I refuse to listen to another moment of this foul slander.’

The door closed behind her with a little bang. Lady Thornton would never admit that her son was a seducer and a murderer. She would not listen until it became common knowledge and she was forced to accept it.

The door opened and a maid entered bearing a tray of tea. Roz gave no indication of her feelings as she said, ‘Lady Thornton has gone up to have tea with Lady Julia – if you could please take the tray up to them?’

Roz had no appetite for food and pushed her plate away. At this moment all she wanted was to run away as far and as fast as she could. Sighing, she stood up. She had stayed for Julia’s sake. However, if her mama intended to move in and comfort her daughter-in-law, Roz would be forced to seek the sanctuary of her own house.

‘I wish you would stay until after the funeral,’ Julia said. ‘I don’t feel that I can manage alone.’

‘I am near enough to visit if you want me, Julia. It is so difficult here. Mama hardly speaks to me. I think she blames me for what happened to Philip.’

‘I’ve told her she must not blame you. Philip brought his fate on himself.’

‘Yes, that is true, but Mama refuses to believe it,’ Roz said. ‘I do not know what will happen if the worst happens and she is forced to leave the dower house.’

‘You must not worry too much. I have spent the past two days turning things over in my mind. Philip sold the house in Bath that was given to us as a wedding gift, otherwise we might have lived there. I think I shall write to my aunt and explain my circumstances. I believe she may offer me a home. She has several properties and I could become her tenant. I should ask Mama if she wishes to live with me.’

‘Could you bear that, Julia?’

‘Your mama has always been kind to me. I know she can be irritating but her bad temper is mostly directed at you, Roz. I’m quite fond of her, you know.’

‘Yes, I do know and I think she would be happier living with you. I have the house in London, which I could sell. If your aunt does not offer you a home I might buy two smaller houses in the country. Mama could spend some time with each of us.’

‘You have not yet been forced to leave Rushden Towers, Roz.’

‘I shall not until my baby is born, but I am thinking of what might be necessary in the future.’

‘Well, I hope you may continue to live in your home in comfort. We shall visit whenever we can, of course, but it will not be quite the same.’

‘No, it cannot be,’ Roz agreed. ‘You have not heard from Sir George yet, I suppose?’

‘He wrote a short note telling me that he had the business in hand and would let me know his findings when he was certain of his facts. I believe they will allow us to bury Philip in a few days.’

‘It is all so very horrid for you, dearest. I wish I could make it all go away for you.’

‘We are both suffering. I do not forget that you have lost Harry,’ Julia said. ‘Do you suppose that the same person . . .’

‘I do not know; it is impossible to guess,’ Roz prevaricated. ‘Perhaps when Sir George has finished his investigation we may know more.’

‘It is frightening.’ Julia shuddered. ‘Three murders, Roz; four if you count Carrie Blake. No one has ever been certain how she died. You don’t suppose they could all be tied together, do you?’

‘No, I’m sure they cannot.’ In her own mind Roz was convinced of Philip’s guilt but she would continue to hide the truth from Julia if she could. ‘We must just wait and see what the magistrate makes of it all.’

Roz glanced at her mother as they took their places in the front pew of the church. Lady Thornton was very pale. She had been avoiding her daughter’s eyes ever since Julia showed her the letter from Sir George Ickleton setting out his theory. He believed that Philip had strangled Mary Jane Blake and then been beaten to death by person or persons unknown.

It was common knowledge that Jack Dawson had disappeared and people were whispering that it was he who had killed Philip in revenge. An inquest had been arranged for the following month and in the meantime Julia had been given permission to bury her husband.

Roz let her gaze travel round the church. There was no sign of Tom Blake but she had not expected him to attend. Why would he come to the funeral of the man who had killed his wife?

People were talking about Tom Blake too. Rogers had told her that Mary Jane’s mother had been heard to accuse Tom of having killed her daughter, but her husband had slapped her and told her to be quiet. John Forrest had made it known that he did not suspect or blame his daughter’s husband, but Mrs Forrest’s outburst would be enough to set some tongues wagging.

Roz could feel the eyes boring into her back and knew that her husband’s murder was also under discussion. So far no one seemed to have put the deaths together, but they had not been privy to her last conversation with Harry. He had intended to search for Philip and she was certain he’d found him; her brother had said as much that night, though it might never be proven, because she had no intention of adding it to her brother’s crimes. Julia had enough to bear without making things worse.

She felt like a hypocrite as the vicar asked them to pray. How could she pray for Philip’s soul when she knew what he’d done?

Surely this was all a bad dream? She would wake up in her own bed and hear her father’s voice calling to the dogs as he set out for his morning ride. If only it were all a nightmare and she could wake up.

Julia reached for her hand and held it. How much longer must she endure this torture? She couldn’t sing a word of the hymns and the prayers fell on deaf ears. She just wanted it to be over so that she could escape – and yet she knew that there was no escape for any of them.

Roz could hear her mother weeping. Julia was crying silently. Both women had hardly stopped for the past ten days. Gazing through a black veil that obscured her vision, Roz hid the fact that she had shed not one tear for her brother.

‘You’re not worth it,’ the words were in her head but not on her lips. ‘You’re not worth one of Julia’s tears.’

‘If she was carrying on with Jack Dawson she isn’t worth mourning,’ Ellen said. ‘It’s time you pulled yourself together, Tom. I can’t do your work for you and you know it.’

‘Have I asked you to? The men are coping with the work. I’ve talked to Joe Fitch and he says his elder daughter will come in to help with the baby and the chores.’

‘Susie’s a good girl, I like her,’ Ellen said. ‘But she won’t help with your pa. Mary Jane was good with him. I think he liked her.’

‘Next time he shouts just leave him, Ma.’

‘He’ll lie there and wet the bed if I leave him. I swear he enjoys making more work for me.’

‘Well, I’ll go up to him before I leave and make sure he’s comfortable.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’ve things to do.’

‘You said the men were coping.’

‘Does everything in this life have to be about work?’

‘I hope you’re not going to see that woman. I won’t have her here, Tom. The day you bring her into this house is the day I’ll walk out.’

‘You’ll please yourself,’ Tom said. ‘I might be the one to do the walking, Ma.’

He walked from the room, leaving her to stare after him in frustration. He was just upset, Ellen thought. He wouldn’t really walk out and leave her with his pa and Carrie’s baby to care for alone – or would he?

Tom was brooding on something and Ellen wasn’t sure what it might be. If he’d seemed guilty she’d have suspected him of having hurt Mary Jane and killing the squire but he wasn’t frightened or worried, just deeply unhappy.

He was hankering over the Thornton girl, just as he had all along. Didn’t he know that too much had happened? All the scandal and the murders had made it impossible for there to be anything between the pair of them.

Tom stood in the lane that separated his land from that of Squire Thornton and watched the carriages approaching. He wasn’t sure why he’d come here, except that he’d known Roz would pass this way as she returned to the house. She was staying with her sister-in-law for the moment, though rumour had it that the estate would be sold in the next few months. Philip Thornton had gambled everything away, including his wife’s money.

Tom moved back to the grass verge as the first carriage passed, catching sight of Roz’s pale face at the window as she was driven by. She looked in such torment that his heart went out to her. He’d been angry when he’d found her at the cottage but it was for Mary Jane’s sake. She hadn’t deserved to die like that whatever she’d done – and his anger was with Philip not Roz.

How must she be feeling? Her husband hardly cold in his grave and now her brother murdered too. Tom wondered if the murders were connected but couldn’t see why or how that should be.

He wasn’t sorry Philip Thornton had got his comeuppance. Tom was certain Thornton had killed Carrie. He was pretty sure that he’d also strangled Mary Jane. There was no veil over his eyes as far as his wife was concerned. Mary Jane was a schemer and if she knew something about Thornton she wouldn’t scruple to use it to gain a profit for herself.

Tom had wondered if the child she’d lost had been his. At the time he’d believed her when she declared that she was having his baby, because he had taken her down on the night of the church hall dance. Yet if she’d been seeing Jack Dawson before he started taking her out . . .

He would never know the truth and it hardly mattered. Tom had been fond of her in his way, though he’d never loved her as she wanted him to love her. If rumour had it right, Dawson had killed Thornton for what he’d done to her. That meant he must have been in on the blackmail. He must surely have known what a violent brute Thornton could be? If he cared for her he ought to have protected her. Dawson had lashed out in revenge afterwards but it was too late.

Tom felt the anger and frustration build inside him. If Dawson were here now he would thrash him the way he had Thornton.

If Mary Jane had simply run off with her lover there might have been a chance for Tom with Roz. She must hate what had happened – her brother branded a murderer. She probably thought Mary Jane had been having an affair with her brother – the way Carrie had.

It might be that simple, but he was pretty certain Mary Jane had been after money. She must have pushed too hard and something snapped in Thornton’s head. Everyone said he was ruined and a man could only take so much.

A feeling of hopelessness settled over him as he walked towards the bottom meadow. Once he’d been filled with ambition, eager to make something of himself – but that seemed an empty prospect now. In time people would stop pointing the finger and the gossips would turn elsewhere for their amusement, but he was sick of it all. For two pins he’d go off and make a new life somewhere else.

Roz went through the motions, thanking people for their kindness in coming but wishing they would all depart. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take because everyone was being so polite when all the time she could see their true thoughts in their eyes. What hypocrites they were.

Roz needed to be alone. She’d seen Tom watching from the grass verge as the carriage passed through the lane separating his land from her brother’s, and the look on his face made her heart ache. Everything was so awful, so impossible. Not her brother’s land for much longer. The lawyer’s letter informing Julia that she had one month to leave the house had arrived that morning before they left for the church.

‘You know you can come to me,’ Roz had told her. ‘You have a home for as long as I do.’

‘My aunt hasn’t replied to my letter as yet,’ Julia replied. ‘We may have to come to you for a while, Roz. Apparently I can only keep my personal items. All the furniture belongs to the estate.’

‘Yes, I imagine it does. I’m so angry with Philip. You gave him a chance, Julia, and he threw it away.’

‘I don’t care about the money or the estate,’ Julia said. ‘He thought it was the reason I wed him, but it wasn’t.’

‘I know you loved him.’

‘I still do; whatever he was, whatever he did I can’t stop loving him.’

‘Mrs Rushden, I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to learn of your misfortunes. Your husband – and your brother.’

Roz turned as the man’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Mr Harcourt. It was so kind of you to come. I did not expect it.’

‘Your brother was a friend. I am aware of the scandal, but I do not forget friendship that easily.’

‘I think you are one of the few.’

‘You bear no shame, Mrs Rushden.’

‘You are very kind, sir.’

‘I understand Lady Thornton is in some financial trouble. If I can be of assistance . . .’

‘I thank you, but Julia has a home with me for the moment. I dare say she will decide to live with her aunt in time.’

‘Yes, perhaps.’ His dark eyes were thoughtful. ‘If I can be of service to you . . . You must know that I always had a high regard for you, Roz.’

‘You are very kind, sir.’

‘Not kind. I thought it would be inappropriate of me to reveal my feelings at your brother’s wedding, but I took too long to speak last time and I lost you. I wanted to make you aware of my regard. It may be too soon but in the near future I should like to call on you. It is my intention to make you an offer.’

Roz sought for words to answer but was rescued by the arrival of Julia and merely inclined her head, feeling stunned.

‘Mama needs you upstairs,’ Julia said. ‘Her head is very bad and she wishes to speak to you, Roz.’

‘I shall go up to her at once.’ She glanced at Mr Harcourt. ‘It was pleasant to see you again, sir. Please excuse me.’

Aware that his eyes were following her, she left the room. Roz could not mistake his meaning. Mr Harcourt had it in mind to make her an offer of some kind, though whether it was to be his wife or his mistress she could not tell.