‘I’m afraid cruelty and unfairness come all too easily to that particular man, as you well know. For all his outward appearance of benevolence, he cares for no one other than his wife and child. King and young Drannock are going to see him again and ask him to reconsider, but if they’re unsuccessful at getting him to change his mind, then perhaps I can. I will not leave the situation as it is.’

‘What will you do, Oliver?’ Kerensa said, hastily taking his hand as if by this she might forbid his plans; she would never forget that Oliver had once almost beaten Peter Blake to his death for harming her. And he could be equally protective over the people of the parish where he was Lord of the Manor.

‘I’ll take care of it,’ he said firmly. ‘Do not be concerned, I won’t raise a finger to him,’ adding mentally, ‘unless he gives me just cause.’ Oliver knew by the face Kerensa was making that she did not believe him, but before she could extract a promise from him not to lose his temper with Peter Blake he moved on to another concern left by the tragedy. ‘Are you still of a mind to call on Jenifer Drannock, my love?’

Kerensa narrowed her eyes at his ploy, but answered, ‘Yes. Jenifer probably needs more help than the Kings do. She has no one but Bartholomew to turn to now, the other children are too young to be of much help. Come to that, Bartholomew is very young to be head of the family.’

‘You go along now, my dear. I don’t want you getting a chill. I’ll take some refreshment with the Reverend Ivey and you can call at the parsonage when you’re ready to go home.’ He gave her his striking smile, said, ‘Take your time,’ then kissed both her wet cheeks.

The first time Kerensa had entered the Drannocks’ cottage, set amid the tightly packed cluster of fishermen’s cob-built homes, was eight years before when she’d been an unhappy young bride. It had always been a drab, dirty-looking building and in the years since had shown no improvement. Kerensa had visited only twice, because Samuel Drannock had shown his disapproval of her calling and had forbidden her to give Jenifer any more of the gifts she had brought to ease their poverty.

Kerensa wondered how Jenifer would receive her today. She knocked loudly on the battered door. There was no reply. Slowly she lifted the buckled rusty latch, pushed the door open a few inches and called out softly, ‘Jenifer, are you there?’

There was still no answer. Kerensa’s concern for Jenifer and her children outweighed the fear of a rebuff. She pushed the door open wider, stepped quickly inside and closed the door against the heavy rain.