Will shrugged as he swiped a strand of thick hair, exactly the same fiery colour as Amber’s, from his brow. ‘I wouldn’t know, sir. Me mam keeps in touch be letter but I ain’t seen hide nor hair of her since her went.’

‘Oh well, I hope he recovers soon.’ Barnaby inclined his head and moved on towards the office as a thought began to form in his mind. Amber had left very abruptly and had already been away for some months. What if she hadn’t got rid of the child as he had ordered her to? His stomach started to churn and as he entered the office there was a thoughtful expression on his face. Perhaps it was time he paid Mrs Ainsley a visit, but first he would have to come up with an excuse to warrant it.

*

The visit occurred the very next day, shortly after he had been to see Louisa in her room. She was fractious and difficult because she had been confined to bed so he had made a hasty exit and soon found himself standing at the Ainsleys’ door, aware of the curious glances he was getting from everyone who passed. He had no doubt that in this poor area, in his fine clothes, he must look like a rose on a dung heap.

Mrs Ainsley admitted him with an anxious frown on her face. ‘Is owt wrong, sir?’ As she stood before him wringing her hands he flashed her a charming smile.

‘Not at all, Mrs Ainsley,’ he assured her. ‘It’s just that whilst I was doing my accounts yesterday, I realised that I still owed your daughter some wages so I thought I would drop them in to you.’

‘That’s reet kind o’ you, sir.’ She eyed the coins he placed on the table suspiciously. ‘I’ll see as she gets it.’ She expected him to leave now that he’d done what he’d come to do but instead he looked about the humble abode and smiled.

‘You keep a very good home, Mrs Ainsley. Very comfortable.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Again, he made no move to leave so she felt forced to ask, ‘Would you like a cup o’ tea. I was just about to have one meself.’

‘That would be most acceptable. Thank you, Mrs Ainsley.’ He removed his hat and, flicking the tails of his fine coat aside, he sat down at the table. She hurried to push the soot-blackened kettle over the fire and while she was preparing the cups he asked casually, ‘And how is your brother now, Mrs Ainsley? Improving, I hope?’

‘Er . . . yes, as far as I know,’ she answered cagily. ‘I ain’t had a letter off our Amber fer a couple o’ weeks or so now.’

‘Oh, so you have no idea when she might be returning to work?’