Читать книгу Evie’s Choice - Terri Nixon - Страница 12

Chapter Four

Breckenhall Quarry, January 1913.

On New Year’s Eve, my worst fears about the Kalteng Star had come true. It had gone missing during the huge party mother had thrown, and although I’d fully believed in my own desire to be rid of it, the shock rippled through all of us. Mother was obviously distraught, although to others I knew she made a vast effort to appear coldly calm, and I felt the guilt lying over me like a terrible weight throughout the fruitless search.

But in the end the blame had fallen squarely on Lizzy, and nothing we had been able to do had persuaded the jury otherwise. The so-called evidence had built and built, and I had watched even her fiery determination crumple in the face of it, until she stood, shaking and helpless while they delivered the verdict.

Mary Deegan, who had formed a closeness with Lizzy from her first day, had defied etiquette and put her arm around me as the words fell like rocks into the silence, and Lizzy had looked back at us both as they’d taken her down. Her face was white and stunned, her eyes looked bigger and bluer than ever in contrast as she no doubt prayed for a last minute intervention, and then she was gone, to begin a ten-year prison sentence in Holloway Women’s Prison, London.

We returned to Oaklands in silence. Mary was fighting tears but she wouldn’t let them fall in front of me. That was another way in which she and Lizzy were different; had it been the other way around I know Lizzy would have been unable to control her distress. But I could tell Mary wanted to be alone, and so, after a brief word of mutual comfort, and a heartfelt promise to do everything I could to get Lizzy freed, I let her go and went to my own rooms to try and make sense of what had happened.

I had not gone downstairs at all that night, and Mother had not tried to persuade me. She too was in a state of shock, but for her it was more to do with the loss of the Kalteng Star than the terrible injustice that had befallen my friend. She told me Ruth would take up Lizzy’s position first thing in the morning and I nodded, too wrung out to argue. I fell into bed, and lay awake with burning eyes until the early hours, wondering what Lizzy was doing and if she was all right.

When I awoke from a shallow and unsatisfactory sleep, I had taken advantage of the fact that I was temporarily without a formal maid to leave the house unnoticed. I asked the stable-boy Billy to saddle Orion, and rode up to the quarry. Even though it wasn’t a Sunday I knew Will would not let me down. Sure enough he was there, and clearly had been for some time; he was freezing cold and shivering in the biting January wind, and came down the hill to meet me. I slid off Orion and into his arms, and we clung together, leaning into the buffeting wind while I wept out all the anger and despair I’d kept hidden in front of everyone else. When I eventually wiped my eyes, he took my hand and we walked in silence up the hill, over the wet grass, to the big rock at the top.

‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there yesterday,’ he said as we sat down, heedless of the puddles in the uneven surface. ‘Markham said he wanted to go to support Ruth, if you ever did, and someone had to keep the shop open.’

I shook my head, dismissing the apology. ‘I knew that diamond was going to cause upset. I told Lizzy so myself the night I got it.’

‘Who do you think really stole it?’

‘I have no idea. I would suspect the Wingfield boys if they hadn’t been seen elsewhere at the time.’

‘What about their mother, Clarissa, isn’t it?’

‘She was questioned by the police, and lots of people saw her too.’ I sighed; it had all been going around and around in my head for so long I was dizzy with it. ‘I’m going to write to Uncle Jack as soon as I get home. He works for the government, he must be able to do something.’

‘Darling, he’s a diplomat, he’s not part of the –’

‘It doesn’t matter! I have to do something!’

Will pulled me against him and tucked my head beneath his chin. ‘I’m sorry. Yes, you’re right, he might at least know someone who can help.’

‘We have to try everything,’ I said, and I felt him nodding.

‘We will.’ He paused, then went on, ‘Evie, I know she’s closer to you than your own family, but trying to absorb Lizzy’s unhappiness won’t ease it for her. Can you imagine how cross she’d be if she knew you were spending your days worrying and crying over something you have no power to change?’

I drew back, suspicious. He sounded awfully selfish, and it surprised and unsettled me. He frowned, then realised what was going through my mind and shook his head. ‘I’m not suggesting you forget about her, that you ignore your feelings or that you be cheerful for anyone’s sake but your own, and hers. All I’m saying is that, when you write to her, you hold on to that determination we all love about you, and don’t show her a moment’s doubt. Do your crying with me, cry all the time if you need to.’ He touched my cheek, and his face was earnest, and more than a little helpless. ‘I don’t want to see you sad, but if you must be sad with someone, let it always be me.’

That afternoon when I returned home, I wrote to Uncle Jack, and then to Lizzy, keeping Will’s words in mind and forcing my determined cheerfulness onto the paper.

‘Dearest Lizzy. I have written to Uncle Jack in the hopes he may help secure your release, I don’t know how, but he does seem to know some terribly important people. I await his response, but will write to you immediately as soon as I hear he is on his way, for I am sure he soon will be!

Yr loving friend,

Evie.’

As I reread the words before sliding the paper into the waiting envelope, I felt them wrap themselves around the despair in my heart and soothe it; there was nothing more I could do, but Uncle Jack would ride to the rescue, there was no question about it. Lizzy’s fate now lay in his hands, and my own rested in mine and Will’s; it had come as a breathtaking shock to discover how suddenly everything could change, and I realised I must treasure every fleeting and fragile moment of joy while it was still within reach.

The spring of 1913 was dull and wet, and gave way to an equally dull, but dry summer. Will and I continued to meet each Sunday; it was difficult to find any more time since mother had realised I would soon be turning nineteen, and was in danger of becoming the spinster of the parish. Of course, the loss of the Kalteng Star was having an effect on the number of potential husbands that crossed the threshold of Oaklands Manor, but there were still plenty for Mother to urge in my direction, and to question me over after I had returned from whichever dinner or party I had been whisked away to.

I played my part, of course. I danced with fathers, spoke glowingly to mothers of their sons’ fine qualities, befriended sisters and curtseyed to grandmothers. I laughed with suitors and allowed a brief brush of lips on my gloved hand when we parted, and told Mother I’d had a wonderful time and would very much like to see that young man again. Then I went to my room, dismissed Ruth, and lay in the dark thinking of Will.

The day after a particularly excruciating party was a Sunday, and despite a strong breeze it was a rare sunny one. With Orion loosely tethered to a bush and munching at the grass, I climbed onto the high rock and looked across the valley to see Will, striding up over the hill with that eagerness he never tried to hide. His dark hair blew back from his face, showing strong, clean lines of jaw and cheekbone, and I enjoyed watching the unconsciously graceful ease with which he moved across the uneven ground towards me.

I stood up and waved, the wind whipping at my skirts and threatening to tug me right off the rock, and he shouted at me to sit down before something awful happened but instead I began to dance from foot to foot, just to make him walk faster. It worked; he began to run, laughing, until he was able to spring up beside me and press his smiling mouth to mine.

He tasted cold and fresh after his walk, and his skin was flushed with good health and contentment. I could tell he was going to say something momentous and romantic, and I waited with impatient and growing anticipation, while he searched for the right words.

Eventually he took my hand, and fixed his eyes tenderly on mine. ‘You’ve got a hole in your jacket.’

I blinked at him, then gave him a look of mock annoyance. ‘And here I was thinking you were about to declare your endless devotion.’

‘Oh, that too,’ he said with a grin, and tugged my hair gently. ‘Ruth not up to Lizzy’s standard then?’ My humour faded, and I sat down. He sat beside me and put an arm around my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to remind you.’

‘It’s never far from my mind anyway. I do wish Uncle Jack would write back, no one’s heard from him since the turn of the year.’

‘Do you think he’ll be able to help?’

‘I’m sure he will. He must be owed a favour or two, after all he’s always shooting off at a moment’s notice and it can’t be all his own choice.’

‘And Ruth?’ He waggled his finger through the hole in my jacket pocket.

‘She’s a disaster, of course. She might have been a good kitchen maid but her skills don’t extend any further than that, and she doesn’t seem at all disposed to learning. She doesn’t have Lizzy’s deftness of touch, and doesn’t notice when something needs doing. I have to ask her half a dozen times at least.’

He grinned at my grumpy tone. ‘But is she as cold as ever?’

‘More so, I would say.’ But I didn’t want to waste our time talking about Ruth. ‘I’m thinking of telling Mother I don’t want a maid at all.’

‘You’d want one if Lizzy was still here,’ he pointed out.

‘She was very good, but I miss her friendship more than her skill with a needle. Besides, I can dress myself. And,’ I added drily, ‘I could mend my own clothes a sight better than Ruth Wilkins. I can’t help feeling it’s time to let go of all that nonsense.’

‘So you’re still convinced everything is going to change,’ Will said, staring out over the hills. Then he swung back to face me and stared at me closely. I was ready for him to tell me I had a smudge on my nose, or a leaf in my hair, but instead he said, ‘I want to marry you, Evie. One day. When we can, without upsetting your family. Will you let me?’

I felt a smile creep across my face and saw it answered in his own. ‘Never mind my family,’ I said, ‘it’s not them you’re marrying.’

‘What sort of an answer is that?’

‘It’s a resounding, thunderous yes!’ I stood up again and cupped my hands to my mouth, bellowing down the valley in a most unladylike manner, ‘Mother, can you hear this? I’m going to marry the butcher’s boy!’

I turned back, still laughing, but Will had stood too, and was looking at me oddly. He folded his arms across his chest, tucking his hands into his armpits, but it seemed less as a way of keeping warm than of keeping his distance.

My own laughter died. ‘What is it?’

‘Why did you say “yes”, Evie?’ he asked quietly, his words almost whipped away in the summer wind.

‘What do you mean? I said it because I want to marry you!’

He blew out a breath and looked down at his feet, and I could see he was struggling with something he didn’t want to say aloud, but felt he must. Eventually he looked back at me, and there was a confused kind of hope in his expression.

‘Are you sure you’re not saying it just to upset the apple cart, and you’ll change your mind later?’

‘No! Why ever would you ask such a thing?’

‘In the market, when I gave you the rose, I thought it was sweet and funny that you put it in your hat-band and said it would annoy your mother. I told myself it was because you were, I don’t know…’ he shrugged, embarrassed, ‘a little bit moved, maybe, and couldn’t think of anything else to say.’

‘I was! That was exactly it. Will, don’t –’

‘No, listen. Just now, when you agreed to marry me, shouldn’t your first reaction have been to come to me? To kiss me? But no, you stood up and, well yes, gloated that you were going to marry the butcher’s boy. Not me, not Will Davies. The “butcher’s boy”.’

Remorse struck me as I stared at him, at his usually open, cheerful face, now tight-jawed and frowning. I couldn’t blame him for his anger. I wanted to go to him, as I should have done before but it would just look false now – it was far too late. I simply didn’t know what to do.

I looked at him helplessly, hoping my regret would show through my wordless inability to move. He looked back, his face pale, his own silence begging me to contradict what he’d said, but I couldn’t find anything big enough, and significant enough, to say. The feelings were swelling inside me, but they couldn’t find a way to be expressed. Eventually I found a tiny voice and managed, ‘Do you still want to marry me?’

He let his arms drop, but he didn’t hold them out to invite me closer. ‘Of course I do,’ he said, gently enough, then went on in a firmer voice, ‘but I won’t be your toy, a means of annoyance to your mother.’ He shook his head, his expression touched with exasperation now. ‘I don’t understand you sometimes. You clearly love her, but you have this need to push her to the limit of her endurance. I can’t just be another weapon in your armoury.’

That stung. ‘This is about you and me, Will, no one else.’

‘And what of your mother?’

‘Well, of course I love her, even though she’s sometimes hard to love.’ I saw a way to convince him then, and hurried on: ‘And yet I’m prepared to risk hurting her to be with you. Doesn’t that tell you all you need to know?’

‘You torment her at every chance,’ he pointed out, but he had softened his stance and now took a hesitant step closer. ‘Look, I know you’ve always been a bit of a tearaway, but you’re growing up fast, and Lady Creswell needs to get to know the young lady you’ve become. She’ll never like me, I understand that, but when she sees you’re serious she might give us her blessing.’

I shook my head. ‘She won’t. And it’s not because of who you are, because if she knew you she would love you as much as I do. It’s because of who you’re not.’

He slumped a little then, but my words seemed to reach him and he accepted my tentative embrace. We stood for a while, on top of the rock, while our first ever moments of discord gradually slipped away into the breeze, and began to appreciate, once more, this precious time alone together.

I ran a finger over the back of one of his hands, noting the slender strength of his fingers and remembering their dexterity with the paper sculptures. ‘You never did tell me: how did you end up working for Mr Markham? And what do you want to do, really?’

‘I suppose if you’re going to marry me you ought to know something about me,’ he conceded. ‘I have no deep, dark secrets, but you’re right, butchery was never my first choice.’ He jumped off the rock and turned to me, hands outstretched to help, but I’d been jumping off this rock for years and, with a withering look at him, I managed it quite well again today without his help. He grinned and took my hand, tucking it around his arm as we walked up towards the big quarry pit that lay over the hill.

‘Dad wanted me to take over the business. He worked seven days a week, but that wasn’t why I left, I’ve never been afraid of a full working life. I just felt as if I had no time to do what I loved most: sculpting wood.’

I should have expected this; his eye for crafting beautiful things was clearly echoed in the skill of his hands. ‘I had a friend,’ he went on. ‘Nathan. He lived in Blackpool too, but he had family in Breckenhall. Quite well off, I think. We both shared this…’ he looked down at his free hand and flexed the fingers reflectively, ‘this need to create, I suppose.’ He glanced down at me, a little embarrassed, a little defiant.

‘Go on,’ I said, delighted to be learning about him at last. ‘Where is Nathan now? Oh, and what was the family business you couldn’t wait to get away from?’

Will stopped and withdrew his arm from mine to shove his hands in his pockets. ‘You’ll laugh.’

‘I won’t, I promise.’

‘Cross your heart?’

‘Absolutely. I will not laugh.’

His eyes narrowed in warning, then he shrugged. ‘All right. It was a butcher’s shop.’

I bit my lip, but it was no good, and although I didn’t laugh outright I did feel a wide smile on my face that made him roll his eyes, pull my hat down over my ears and stalk off. I chased him, letting the giggles out at last, and caught his hand. ‘Wait! I want to hear the rest!’

‘I’ll tell you the rest if you promise not to say the word “butcher” to me once more today.’

‘I promise,’ I said again, with the proper solemnity, and he sighed.

‘Might as well get the grass to promise not to grow,’ he grumbled. ‘Anyway, Nathan was – is – an artist. A proper artist, not like me; I just like to make things, but he’s a painter.’

‘I don’t see why that makes you less than a “proper” artist,’ I protested.

Will shook his head. ‘He had real talent, everyone said so. He was offered a studio here in Breckenhall, one of his family left it to him. So he asked me if I wanted to leave Blackpool, come here and set up with him in business. He would take commissions, I would work on my carvings and sculptures, and we would sell them at the market.’ He shrugged again. ‘It all sounded wonderful. I was just in the way at home, anyway.’

‘In the way? How could you be?’

‘I’m the youngest of five. There were plenty of others to take my place beside Dad.’

I tried to imagine how anyone could make him feel anything less than special, but I couldn’t begin to. ‘So the two of you came to Breckenhall, set up your studio, and what happened then?’

‘Nathan’s dream carried us for a while. I sold a few pieces and we set ourselves up using our savings. But we’d not thought it through really; frames, oils, canvas, brushes…it all cost much more money than we’d allowed for.’

‘But you owned the studio outright?’

‘Yes. We partitioned it off and slept in one half, worked in the other. It was fun, those few years,’ Will said, smiling in remembrance. ‘We got on well, and we were able to spend all our time doing the thing we each loved the most. I was able to get by without spending too much on equipment; I walked to the forest and gathered hardwoods there, so all I had to do was keep my blades sharp. And eat and keep warm, of course.’

I wished I’d known him then, it gave me an odd feeling to think he’d been there all this time, I’d probably even seen him selling his carvings in the market without noticing him…it didn’t seem possible now. ‘Sounds heavenly,’ I said.

‘Well, I knew things were difficult, but I thought we were muddling through. Then one day Nathan stayed up late to finish a project he was working on, and when I woke up I found a note. He’d gone.’

‘Gone? Where?’

Will shrugged. ‘Just…gone. He’d been struggling for a long time, borrowing from friends and family, until he found himself in so much debt he couldn’t pay it back. Not even his family could help. I had no idea things were so bad.’

‘What about the studio?’ I said, aghast, ‘Couldn’t you sell that?’

‘He’d already sold it, without telling me, and now I owed rent to the new owners.’

‘What on earth did you do?’

‘I sold everything I could to pay the back rent, found a smaller room above the fruit shop, and just when I thought I would have to go back to Blackpool with my tail between my legs, I saw the note in Frank Markham’s window.’ He looked at his hands again and gave a rueful laugh. ‘It seemed I’d learned more from my father than I thought, Markham was very impressed despite my “advanced age”. He gave me the job there and then.’

‘Well, thank goodness he did,’ I said, ‘or I’d never have met you.’

Will stopped and turned me to face him. ‘Thank goodness,’ he echoed, and I stood very still, breathless, thinking how close I had come to driving him away with my childish need to provoke my mother.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted. ‘You had every right to be angry.’

‘I wasn’t –’

‘Yes, you were.’

He smiled, suddenly. ‘Yes, I was. Bloody angry, actually. There was I, baring my soul to you, and all you can do is start yelling down the valley.’

‘Sorry,’ I said again, then gave him my wickedest grin. ‘You do look very handsome when you’re angry though, I must remember that. Perhaps I should begin a list of all the things that make you cross.’

He growled, and lunged for me, but I danced back out of reach and sat down on the grass. ‘You’re so easy-going, what does make you angry?’

‘Apart from young ladies reacting incorrectly to proposals of marriage?’

‘Apart from that, yes.’

He sat next to me, and pretended to consider. ‘Grown-ups sulking,’ he said at last. ‘I find that more annoying than almost anything.’

I lay back and rolled over, letting out the biggest, grumpiest sigh I could manage. He chuckled, and I felt his hand on my back, but although I smiled into the crook of my elbow I didn’t roll over. I liked the feeling of the persistent rubbing of his hand through the thin material of my dress, and as he lifted the hair away from the nape of my neck I knew what would happen next. Sure enough, his lips touched the newly exposed and tender skin and I bit my arm to keep from letting out a sigh of pleasure; I wasn’t ready for this to end yet, and as I gave another grunt of feigned annoyance I felt his mouth curve against my neck in a smile that I knew would be wide and beautiful.

‘I’m getting very angry now,’ he whispered, and the warmth of his breath sent a shock of longing through me that I wasn’t prepared for. My playacting ceased immediately and I lay very still, aware of the heat of his hand at my shoulder, and of the cool shade of his body. He kissed my neck again, and his hand moved gently down my side to cup my hip, then roll me gently towards him, brushing across my body to rest at my waist. I found myself unable to speak, but it didn’t matter; his face blocked out the sun, and as his lips touched mine, I knew this time things were different.

Our afternoons had always held the frisson of forbidden pleasure, and, while I knew the attraction between us had been growing, I had never, until now, felt the almost painful need to take our innocent kisses any further. Now, as he drew back and looked down at me, his breathing suddenly shallow, I felt a sweet, tugging sensation in the pit of my stomach that grew stronger the more I studied him. I noticed every single thing about him; the way his hair flopped untidily across his brow; the stray lash that lay beside his left eye; the slightly reddened skin along his jaw where he’d shaved in a hurry before coming out to meet me. I felt his hand slide up from my waist and across my ribcage to lie tentatively beneath my breast, and then his thumb moved to caress the swell there and he closed his eyes.

I kept mine open. His collar was open in the August warmth, and I saw the muscles move in the strong, smooth column of his throat, and the pulse beating rapidly below the angle of his jaw. I smelled grass and soap, the faint tang of moorland animals, and my own light perfume, all mingling in the dry air, and then his mouth was on mine and as my lips parted I felt him sigh against me, and I was lost.

I came to only moments later. Will jerked away from me as if I had slapped him, and I stared up at him in mortified astonishment before realising he had not moved voluntarily. A tall shadow fell over us both, and even as I recognised the angry face of my cousin David Wingfield, Will rolled away from me and came to his feet. Before he had gained his balance David shoved at him and he stumbled back, but recovered in time to deflect a blow that would otherwise had crashed into the side of his head. His own fist came up with a short, quick motion and connected with David’s jaw, and from where I lay I could see David go sprawling backwards.

Will turned back to me, stunned, and crouched down. ‘Darling, I’m so sorry, are you all right?’

‘What on earth is going on?’ I said, putting my hand in his.

He pulled me to my feet. ‘I have no idea why he’s here, but you’d better –’

Before he could finish, David’s foot rammed into the back of his knee and he staggered into me, carrying me back to the ground with a grunt, and my teeth clacked together painfully. He only just avoided landing on top of me by rolling onto his side and, off-balance and worried about me, he failed to move out of the way quickly enough and David’s next kick took him below the breastbone, knocking the breath from his body. He slumped, gasping, but the next time David’s foot flew out he caught it and tugged hard, spilling David onto his back again.

Will climbed to his feet, pale and still dragging painful breaths, and waited until David was upright again before advancing with his fists ready. I stared at them both, dizzy with the suddenness with which everything had changed, and wanting to go to Will and make sure he was all right. But he was completely focused on David now, and as David lunged, he easily dodged and clipped David on the point of his chin.

I watched, my heart slowing as the panic eased; Will was older, and easily the most agile and stronger of the two, and, despite the bruising kick, he was breathing more easily now. I wondered what had brought David up to the quarry in the first place, and, hot on the heels of that came the more urgent question: how could we prevent him from telling everyone what he had seen?

The two circled one another like wolves, the twenty-six-year-old and the seventeen-year-old, but David had already lost and we all three knew it. He eyed Will warily; Will had pushed his sleeves back to reveal forearms made strong by the hard work he did six and a half days out of seven, and the muscles flexed beneath his skin as he tightened and relaxed his fists. There was a gleam of sweat along his brow, and his eyes flashed bright blue in the sunlight, but now they weren’t friendly at all.

David cleared his throat and stepped back, dropping his hands back to his sides, an act I reluctantly admitted took courage. Defiantly, he raised his chin and I could see the red mark that would bruise nicely later. ‘I’ll have you arrested if I catch you anywhere near Miss Creswell again.’ His gaze flicked to me, and although I was quite respectably dressed I felt as if Will’s warm hands had left blazing prints all across my summer dress, and that they must have shown. Then he looked back at Will, clearly relieved as Will also dropped his guard and assumed a more relaxed position.

David’s tone turned rather snooty and I lost the fleeting sympathy I’d felt. ‘Who are you, anyway? No gentleman, that’s for sure. A gentleman would never assault a lady while she was out riding.’

‘What do you want, David?’ I said, moving to Will’s side. ‘Just say what you came for and then leave.’

‘I came to see you, as a matter of fact,’ he said. ‘Your mother invited me to dinner.’

Whatever I had been expecting, it wasn’t that. ‘What on earth for? And how did you know where I was?’

‘Everyone knows where you come to get away from everything, even your stable-hand. It’s a good thing I came, if you ask me, another few minutes and that low-born thug might have done anything!’

‘Watch who you’re calling a thug,’ Will said with deceptive mildness, but I saw him tensing up again.

David did too, and stepped back, his voice betraying his nervousness. ‘Whatever you claim to be the case, you cannot deny I came along just in time,’ he said. Privately I couldn’t help agreeing, but for a very different reason. I found my eyes drawn once more to the muscular arms that brushed mine as we stood side by side, and knew that if they were around me right this minute I would have surrendered everything, wholly and without a second thought.

‘Are you going to tell anyone what you’ve seen?’ I wanted to know.

‘Well now, I don’t know what I’ve seen, do I?’ David looked cunning suddenly, and I wanted to slap him. ‘It’s hardly your fault if some ruffian attacks you while you’re sleeping in the sun.’

Will and I looked at each other, and I could see he was going to admit to exactly that, if it meant maintaining our secret for my sake. I spoke quickly, before he could. ‘That isn’t what happened, David, you know it isn’t.’

‘Evie –’ Will began.

‘No, it’s not and you can’t pretend it is either. You’ll lose your job and Mr…your employer will suffer too,’ I said, almost naming Markham in my hurry to make my point. Mother would be certain to discover who Will was, and that would be the last time he or Markham would be delivering to Oaklands. Not to mention Will’s reputation being torn to shreds. I could not allow that.

I turned back to David, who was glancing from me to Will and back again. ‘David, I know you’re going to run back to your mother and tell her what you saw, but you need to know that won’t make any difference at all.’

‘Any difference to what?’

‘To us.’ I slipped my hand into Will’s and, after a glance of mingled exasperation and pride, he raised it to his lips. ‘Nor to what you came here for,’ I added, and David flushed.

‘I merely came to dinner,’ he reminded me. ‘At the invitation of your mother.’

‘And the instigation of yours,’ I said acidly. ‘She must be quite sure I will get the Kalteng Star back one day, and what better way to ensure it goes back to the Wingfields than if you and I were to marry?’

‘The diamond is gone,’ he protested, but there was no conviction behind his words; he clearly believed the same as his mother, that Lizzy would soon break under the terrible conditions inside Holloway, and tell someone where she had hidden it. Except I knew she hadn’t taken it to begin with, and with any luck we would never see it again.

‘Then Clarissa won’t be too disappointed to learn that I have no intention of joining our two families again,’ I said.

‘Aren’t you two related anyway?’ Will said.

‘Only distantly. David’s great-grandmother was my great-aunt Catherine.’

‘So it’s legal for you to wed?’

‘Legal, but not in the least desirable,’ I said, ‘particularly after the way he helped convict Lizzy.’

‘I simply came to dinner,’ he repeated stubbornly. ‘Please allow me to escort you back, Miss Creswell.’

‘I have Orion,’ I reminded him, profoundly grateful for the excuse. ‘And it’s nowhere near time to eat yet. At least Mrs Hannah will have plenty of notice of your cancellation.’

David’s jaw dropped. ‘Are you refusing me the hospitality offered by Lady Creswell?’

‘Not at all. Do stay, if you wish. I hope you enjoy talking to Mother.’

‘Won’t you be there?’

I smiled sweetly. ‘I expect I shall have a headache later. It’s probably best if I take a tray in my room.’

Will’s hand tightened on mine as he choked back a laugh, and I gripped hard in return. David looked at us both, searching for a way to save face. In the end he simply turned on his heel and strode off down the hill, no doubt aware of the picture of dignity he made. This was spoiled slightly as he had to take a sudden side-step to avoid the inevitable sheeps’ leavings, and his ankle turned; his disappearing silhouette cut a rather less dashing figure from that moment on. Will and I leaned on each other in relief at being alone again.

‘Do you really think your two mothers are conspiring to have you married off?’ Will said. I was glad of the distraction, even if it meant discussing such an unsavoury thought; I was too conscious of the silence, of the peace that had fallen over us, and of the heat of his body.

‘The Kalteng Star does funny things to people’s minds,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised.’

‘But, as you said, it’s gone. We don’t know who stole it, and it’s fairly certain you’ll never get it back.’

‘Thank goodness, although Clarissa must think differently.’ I realised something then, and smiled. ‘Do you know, Lord William, that never once in all the time I have known and loved you, did it occur to me that you might have had your head turned by it too?’

He gave me an amused look; it had obviously never occurred to him either. ‘Not even when I told you how much I’d struggled before, to make a living from sculpting?’

‘Not even then. Besides, you’re here with me now even though I don’t have that fortune any longer.’

‘You’re still a very wealthy young woman,’ he pointed out. ‘Although the first time we saw each other I think we both knew we would be standing together one day. That was back when I thought you were kitchen staff at Oaklands, of course.’

‘But I knew who you were.’

He put his arm around my shoulder. ‘And it didn’t make any difference to you, so why should it to me? The way I see it, loving you comes with a great deal more complication than loving me could ever do.’

‘You’re right,’ I said a little glumly, making him smile. ‘You have my sympathies. Promise you’ll never give up on me?’

‘I promise. I only hope David is too embarrassed to tell his mother, or yours, what he saw up here.’

I had to speak of it, now the moment had passed and I felt safe from my own unexpectedly fierce desire. ‘Will, about before, when David found us –’

‘I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry,’ he interrupted, but I shook my head.

‘But we can’t … you know. We shouldn’t. And today I felt…’ I was struggling to find the words, but he was there with his own and, as always, they cut straight to the heart of things.

‘Only a word from you would have stopped me.’ He held my shoulders and ducked down so his eyes were level with mine and there was no hiding. ‘And you wouldn’t have said that word, would you?’

‘No,’ I confessed in a small voice. What did that make me? But the sudden, brilliant smile on his face banished the question and replaced it with the knowledge that it simply meant that this man and myself were meant to be together. As we’d both known from the start.

‘Come on,’ he said, tugging my hand, ‘it’s almost time you were back home.’

‘Just a bit longer?’ I pleaded. Despite the faintly tainted atmosphere that drifted around what had, for so long, been our private haven, it was such a heavenly day I hated to think it must end, and that I wouldn’t see Will again for a whole week. He was breath and life to me now, how had I survived so long without him? Soon it would be even longer between chances; the year was aging rapidly and there were few places we could meet without risk.

‘Just a few minutes then.’ He made it sound as though he were doing me the greatest turn, but his eagerness to sit down and draw me down next to him gave him away. I smiled and looked down the hill towards Oaklands Manor. Beautiful it might be, bathed in the reddish gold of the late afternoon sun, but I couldn’t wait for the day when I could move out and set up home with Will.

As if he could read my mind, he slipped his hand into mine. ‘Don’t you think we ought to set a date then?’

‘What about my mother?’

‘Tell her, or don’t. Only you can decide, but you’d better decide quickly.’

‘Oh there you go again, getting all cross and handsome.’

He scowled and turned to press me down into the grass, and kissed me until I could barely breathe.

‘God, Evie…I can’t wait much longer.’ He rolled away to lie staring up at the sky.

I understood he was not blaming me and suddenly, out of nowhere, I whispered, ‘Then let’s not wait.’ I immediately panicked when he looked at me long and consideringly, and wished I hadn’t said it. It would be unfair of me to change my mind now, and I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to, but I felt a churning, nervous wariness at the thought of what I had suggested.

His finger traced a gentle line from my temple to my jaw. ‘Listen. I love you desperately, and you know I want you, but this shouldn’t be something we may someday come to regret. It’s too precious.’

I nodded, part of me relieved, the rest aching like never before, and lay back down, close to his side, reluctant to break contact. ‘Then let’s do something else. Something exciting.’

He gave a soft laugh. ‘Such as what?’

‘Go somewhere. Away from Breckenhall, somewhere where people aren’t interested in us, and we don’t have to pretend we’re not mad about each other.’

‘Are you mad about me?’ he teased.

‘Yes, but only a little bit.’

Still smiling, he twisted towards me and kissed me. It did little to dispel the sense of longing but I couldn’t help smiling in return, and returned his kiss with renewed enthusiasm; now we had agreed to wait, it felt safe to do so. As we broke apart I felt his strong white teeth tug gently at my lower lip, and it was difficult not to pull him close again. ‘So,’ he said, in a voice that had turned faintly husky. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘You think we should go somewhere we can walk together and hold hands, right in front of everyone?’

‘It sounds silly when you say it like that, but don’t you think it would be wonderful? We could go to the seaside –’

‘The weather won’t last more than another few days.’

‘Then we’ll go as soon as we can. We can take a picnic lunch.’

Will sat up. ‘Why don’t we go to Blackpool?’

‘Blackpool?’ I tried not to sound disappointed; it was his home town, after all. But I’d hoped for somewhere a little more romantic.

‘Do you remember last year, when they lit it all up? Absolutely thousands of lights. For Princess Louise when she opened the promenade.’

‘Oh, yes, Ava Cartwright was there with her aunt. She did say it was beautiful,’ I conceded.

‘Well, Frank told me yesterday they were so successful, they plan on doing it again this year.’

I nodded, warming to the idea. It didn’t really matter where we were, after all, provided we were together. ‘All right, we can travel separately, but on the same train, then spend the day and evening at the Pleasure Beach. We’ll see the lights, then be home before anyone’s even noticed.’

‘I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get away, but I’ll try.’

‘You’re looking a bit peaky,’ I said, putting a solicitous hand on his forehead.’

He affected a look of deep suffering. ‘I believe you’re right. I feel a rather uncomfortable sickness coming on. Possibly in a few days.’

I laughed. ‘How will I know when you’re going to be laid up with this awful illness?’

‘I’ll leave a message in the summer house, as long as Mr Shackleton’s not looking.’

‘He spends most of his time in the sheds at this time of year,’ I said. ‘I’ll check the summer house every day. Now I believe it’s time to return, and face the rather off-key music that’s waiting to accompany dinner.’

David had left before I returned, declining dinner on the grounds that the walk in the sun had left him with a headache. I couldn’t help feeling cheated that he had appropriated my own excuse, and I was forced to dine en famille after all. Dinner was an awkward and silent affair; Mother kept looking at me narrowly, no doubt she had seen the blossoming bruise on David’s chin, and noted how he favoured his right ankle as he walked, and she clearly suspected I had something to do with both. Quite what she thought I had done, I didn’t know, but those looks across the table were enough to convince me she had her notions anyway.

I missed Uncle Jack more than ever that evening; he was always the one to keep up a lively conversation and to dampen any signs of discord. I missed his gentle teasing, and the way he would coax Mother, in even the most morose of her moods, into a reluctant smile that made her beautiful and familiar again. He hadn’t been home since New Year’s Eve, almost nine months ago, and I was once more growing worried about Lizzy; the days were flying by for me, but every day she spent in that awful place must feel like a week. Mother clearly felt Jack’s absence almost as keenly as I did and I wondered, not for the first time, if the two of them were closer than they had led us to believe. I fervently hoped they were; there was no one I would rather have as a step-father than Jack Carlisle.

Lawrence sensed the tension in the silence and kept raising his eyebrows at me, but I studiously ignored him, and he pouted when he realised he was being left out of something yet again. Subsequently he requested to leave the table the moment his last forkful was taken, and to avoid the inevitable questions I did the same. But Mother took the rare step of coming to find me later.

‘Evangeline,’ she said, sitting down at my dressing table without being asked. I felt my stomach turn over nervously; she never came to my rooms unless it was something serious, the last time had been the day the diamond had gone missing.

‘If this is about David –’

‘Darling, I understand. I do. It can’t be easy for you.’

‘Easy?’

‘But you mustn’t worry. If you didn’t actually…if he didn’t…’

‘Didn’t what?’ I knew, of course. I just wanted to see how much David had told her.

‘If you were both still fully clothed,’ she said in a rush, her face looking as hot as mine felt.

I chose to misunderstand, just in case. ‘Why would either David or myself be otherwise?’

‘Not David!’ Mother tensed further as she realised she’d have to explain. ‘The other young man. Were you both dressed when David found you?’

Relief welled up, and the dark thoughts about how she would react were swept aside. ‘We were,’ I said. ‘Nothing happened, and I’m very very happy.’

She looked a little surprised at my sudden change in temperament, but she smiled. ‘Then so am I.’

I bent to put my arms around her, and when she hugged me in return all the years fell away, and I was a little girl again and my mother loved me even though I was such an effort for her. I felt horrible for assuming she would rather see me unhappy than wed to the man I loved.

‘You should have told me,’ she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder. ‘I wanted you to tell me yourself, and waited for it. I’m so sad you felt you couldn’t.’

‘I didn’t think you’d understand,’ I confessed. ‘It was hard to know where to begin.’

‘Of course I understand, darling, you mustn’t feel at fault. Now, what did he look like?’

I stepped back, with the prickling suspicion that all was not well after all. ‘What did who look like?’

‘David would only describe him as a thuggish sort of a man, with messy hair and a fierce look in his eyes. Blue eyes, he says, which may help but not much. I gather there was quite a struggle so he might be bruised as well. We must call Inspector Bailey of course. And you’re to stop riding out alone.’

I couldn’t speak. Quite aside from the exaggeration about Will’s appearance, and the “struggle”, I couldn’t believe David had told that story after all, it would achieve nothing. Was it simply revenge?

‘Mother, what David told you is a lie,’ I said at last.

‘I beg your pardon?’ It was only then that I saw she had been battling her own emotions, and there were tears in her eyes for my presumed suffering. I could have wept myself; the one time we had found a kind of bond in far too long, and now I must shatter it again. I felt a fleeting urge to allow her mistaken belief to continue, just to maintain that bond, but it wasn’t fair on Will.

‘I wasn’t being attacked,’ I said, ‘I was lying down with…with a man. We were dressed,’ I added quickly, as the colour drained from her face. ‘We were kissing. But that’s all we were doing. I promise, it was nothing more –’

‘Who was it?’ Her voice was flat, and my own anger kindled.

‘It doesn’t matter. It’s someone who makes me happy and who loves me as much as I love him. But he’s not of “our class”, so I already know what you’re going to say.’

‘Who?’ she repeated.

‘I’m not going to tell you,’ I said, trying to sound stubborn, but instead I heard pleading in my tone. ‘Mother, I don’t want to upset you, but –’

‘Upset me?’ She rose, smoothing down her skirts with shaking hands. ‘I don’t know what makes you think you can upset me now. Letting your maid steal our family’s fortune, your own birthright, that upset me. This?’ She gestured blithely, but her jaw was tight. ‘This is nothing. It will pass.’ But she paused at the door, and her tone softened a little. ‘I assume he’s a handsome boy?’

Man, I wanted to say, but didn’t. ‘Some would say so.’

‘Then be careful. A boy’s demeanour rarely matches a pleasant appearance, and the handsome ones are often the cause of more heartache than the plain ones.’ Her expression turned reflective for a moment, and I wondered again about her and Uncle Jack. Then she shook the thoughts away. ‘Don’t forget your choices are more limited now you have lost the Kalteng Star.’

‘I didn’t lose it, it was stolen. And W…he’s never been interested in my fortune. Even when I still had the diamond.’

She looked startled. ‘How long have you and this boy been courting?’

‘We met in the spring. But have only properly become close since the end of last summer. After my birthday,’ I added pointedly.

She came back in, and a shadow of that bond I had wanted to prolong reappeared as she took my hand. ‘Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I assumed this was some fleeting bit of nonsense, some momentary loss of control.’ I remembered how close that had been to the truth, but again held my tongue.

Mother squeezed my hand. ‘I don’t want you to be unhappy, of course I don’t. And this sounds terribly old-fashioned and you’ll hate it, but thanks to the terms of John Creswell’s will, the future of our family depends on your match, not Lawrence’s. You will never be asked to marry against your wishes, but if the Kalteng Star is ever returned to us, then whoever you have married must be worthy of it. You do understand?’

‘Yes,’ I said. Better to let her think she had convinced me, and to keep her warmth and sympathy, than to lose everything. But I was not going to give in entirely, even on the surface. ‘I won’t marry David Wingfield though.’

Mother looked at me for a moment, with pursed lips. ‘Our two families make poor enemies,’ she said at last. ‘I’ve always known that. However, you will not find me pushing the matter any further. It was Clarissa who suggested this advance of his, not me.’

‘Is that your way of trying to say you don’t blame me?’

A reluctant smile crossed her lips and I loved her again, in that moment. She leaned in close and whispered, ‘He’s a terrible little oik, and his mother’s frightful.’

She smiled again as she opened the door, and now there was an understanding between us that I could feel all the way across the room. Will was right; I was no longer a wayward, rebellious child with too much energy and too little patience, I was a woman, as Mother was, and she was ready now to help me find my way through the often dark and frightening maze of adult relationships and obligations.

There was a touching similarity between this acceptance, and when Will and I had kissed goodbye earlier. There had been no question of his being the friendly, funny butcher’s boy, consorting in secret with the heiress; when Will Davies kissed me at Breckenhall Quarry that day, he was the young man with strength in his hands, and nothing but goodness in his heart. The same hands and heart for which I would defy anyone, and in which I willingly placed the rest of my life. I had no idea, in the happy, heady arrogance of youth, that I would have to fight so hard to remain there.