Obediently, she followed him out of the child’s bedroom, through the nursery into a smaller room. A bed in one corner lay snug beneath a bright coverlet and a pair of comfortable chairs stood together. A patterned china jug and ewer occupied a washstand under a tiny window. To the left of the window was a neat wooden wardrobe.

“This will be your room while you stay with us.” Hugh watched.

The young woman’s face broke into the broadest of grins. “Oh! It’s lovely.” She clasped her hands together and beamed at him. “It’s the prettiest room I’ve ever known.” Her cheeks glowed.

She looked delightful, her face so open and trusting. Hugh felt a pang of desire. If only she would be honest. Why would she not explain the reasons for her flight from London? Surely, such a wide smile could not hide a devious, false nature. “Tell me who you are and what you were doing, travelling through the length of the country alone.” He spoke without heat. Would she set his mind at rest?

She bit her lip. “Who I am?” She gave a little laugh that rang false. “Why, I’m no one.” Her eyes flickered from side to side.

Hugh’s heart sank. She was searching for a lie, for some story. He must extract the truth. “Mrs. Rivers has suggested that since Abigail has left the Hall you should undertake the duties of nursemaid.”

She nodded.

Hugh hardened his heart. “Tell me what qualifications you have.”

“Why, none at all.” Her head was high but her fingers twisted together. “I used to supervise children sometimes in London.” Hugh heard a catch in the voice. “I taught them their letters and how to count.”

“Indeed.” Hugh folded his arms and leaned against the wall, tapping one boot on the floor, as irritation flooded back. “As you will have charge of my son, I need to know something about you.” Impatient, willing to offer the woman a last chance, he fired rapid questions. “Where are you from? What possessed you to travel at night? I gather you wished to visit the West Country. Bath, perhaps, would be a suitable destination. Did you have no travelling companions?” Tell me. Convince me that all is well.

The young woman took a deep breath, unclasped her hands and hid them behind her back. “I am an orphan,” she began in a voice that wavered. She coughed and continued with more confidence. “My mother died many years ago and I was brought up by-by my Uncle Samuel, a tailor.”

“Uncle Samuel?” Why was she stammering, so? Was she telling the truth?

“Not a real uncle.” The voice faltered again. “I believe he was an old friend of my mother.”

“Hmm.” Hugh considered. “No father, I gather?” An orphan, then. Some excuse for her conduct, perhaps.

She shook her head, so lost and sad. If only he could believe every word. “He cared for me most carefully and kindly.” She spoke faster, words tumbling over one another. “Last month, he passed away. I always wondered where my mother’s parents lived and from some hints Samuel dropped, I learned there is another uncle, living in Bristol, in a small way of business. I decided to visit the West Country.” Her voice trailed away.