She picked up her case. Edward stood stock-still as she moved past him. But as she reached the door, he suddenly found his voice.

‘You’ll be sorry,’ he called after her.

Anna turned to look at him.

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘You’ll be the one who’s sorry, not me.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

‘What do you mean, you don’t want to marry him? It’s all arranged.’

Grace’s mother confronted her across the kitchen, barely paying any attention to the infant screeching in the crook of her arm. This was Grace’s youngest sibling, a boy called Reuben.

Grace tugged at the collar of her dress. It was a warm June day outside and the back door was open, but the sticky heat of the kitchen was still making her feel faint.

This wasn’t going as well as she had hoped. The elegant speech she had rehearsed on the train down to Devon had stuck in her throat, until all that emerged was a confused jumble of words that even she scarcely understood.

‘We haven’t set a date,’ she pointed out quietly.

‘That doesn’t matter,’ her father dismissed. ‘You’ve promised to marry Noah Wells, and that’s that. We Duffields never break our word.’

‘We’re talking about my marriage, Pa, not trading a pig!’ Grace protested.

‘Sounds the same to me!’ her sister-in-law Jessie said, and both she and Eliza sniggered.

‘It’s just nerves, that’s all,’ her mother said to her husband. ‘All brides get them, it’s nothing to worry about. She’ll come to her senses and do the right thing in the end.’

Grace turned on her. ‘That’s just it, don’t you see? I’m tired of coming to my senses all the time. Good old Grace, always doing the right thing. But not this time. I don’t want to be the sensible one anymore. I don’t want to wear practical shoes, or clothes that don’t show the dirt. And I don’t want practical hair, either! I want dainty dancing shoes, and – and curls!’

She finished her outburst to see a ring of astonished faces staring back at her.

‘Have you gone quite mad, Gracie?’ her mother asked.

‘Dainty dancing shoes!’ Eliza spluttered with laughter. ‘There’s nothing dainty about those great big feet of yours!’

‘I know what’s wrong with her.’ Jessie sent her a sly look. ‘She’s in love.’

‘I am not!’ Grace felt the heat rising in her face.

‘I knew it!’ Jessie crowed. ‘Look how she’s blushing. She reckons she’s going to get a better offer.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ her mother said, ‘Grace knows very well that will never happen.’

‘Why not?’ Grace turned on her mother. ‘Is it really such a silly idea that someone might fall in love with me?’

‘Especially with her curls and her dainty dancing shoes!’ Eliza chimed in, still laughing.

Grace ignored her. ‘I mean it,’ she said to her mother. ‘Why shouldn’t I be like all the other girls? Why shouldn’t I be like Sylvia Saunders?’

‘And who’s Sylvia Saunders when she’s at home?’ her mother wanted to know.