Hugh frowned. Could this really be the truth? Could he believe the story? It sounded unconvincing, but still, stranger things happened. It could all be sincere. His spirits rose. He must find out more. “Do you read and write?”

“Oh, yes, Samuel made sure I learned.” A louder voice. This must be safer ground: surely, there was truth here. “I can sew, for I used to assist him. I can cook and keep house.”

Hugh tore his eyes away and stared out through the window across the pleasure grounds and fields of the Hall. “You did not wait long before leaving London after the death of your uncle.” He kept his gaze fixed on the fields he loved and must protect. The Hall must come first.

“I hoped to arrive at my uncle’s house for Christmas.”

“So your relative is expecting you?”

“His invitation arrived the day after Uncle Samuel died. I did not reply but planned to surprise him.” The woman hesitated. “And his wife,” she added.

He did not believe her. She was adding to the story as she spoke. Hugh swung round in time to disturb a telltale blush and his heart sank. He knew now. This was all nonsense: a story designed to gain sympathy. He tried in vain to hold the woman’s gaze.

She spoke fast, now, as though hurrying to finish. “I was to travel with a maid, but she was unwell so I-I came alone.” Her voice faded to nothing.

It was all lies. Hugh’s jaw ached with tension as a long silence fell between them. He waited. Perhaps, even now, she would tell the truth. It was not too late.

With a sudden movement, the young woman straightened. Lifting her chin, she met Hugh’s eyes. “I am an honest woman,” she declared in a firm voice, confident at last. “I will continue on to Bristol as soon as possible. I am most grateful for such kindness—for letting me stay here for a while.” She curtsied. “I hope I can repay this consideration by helping to look after Master John, since the nursemaid has unfortunately been called away.”

At last, some words rang true. Perhaps there was hope. “I am willing to allow you to continue here during the holiday and until your uncle sends for you. Please write a letter at once and request a companion for the next stage of the journey to Bristol. Mrs. Rivers will supply writing materials and ensure that James, the footman, puts the letter into the post.”

Hugh watched the young woman closely. “I will not have it said that Thatcham Hall ever turned away anyone visited by misfortune.”

Her eyes were enormous.

“Abigail’s desertion of her post leaves me no alternative but to ask you to look after John for a day or two,” Hugh kept his tone casual. “I am sure you will wish to be on your way as soon as may be after that.”

The young woman’s gaze fell to the floor, but she said nothing.