Jenifer looked at Kerensa fondly, but shook her head. ‘It’s best to leave things as they are.’

Thinking back to the day Samuel Drannock had stopped her from helping his family, Kerensa’s face coloured a little. What he had told her then always made her feel guilty. ‘Is that because of the secret we share?’

‘In a way. Samuel was always afraid that Sir Oliver would find out.’ Then for a moment Jenifer looked as if she had some energy in her soul as she said, ‘And now that Samuel is dead, don’t you think it would be worse if he did?’

‘Yes, perhaps you are right,’ Kerensa replied uncomfortably. ‘But I would still like to help you, Jenifer. If you ever change your mind…’ She glanced round at the scraps of food on the table, bit her bottom lip, then added, ‘At least will you accept some eggs and milk for the children? Ruth and Esther can bring them over from the manor, Oliver need never know, and anyway it would be no more than he would expect me to do. He will wonder more if I don’t do something for you.’

After a pause Jenifer capitulated. ‘You’re such a sweet little thing and here’s me calling you my dear, or Kerensa, when I should be addressing you by your title or Ma’am.’

‘I’d rather no one called me that, or m’lady or Lady Pengarron. I’ve never felt comfortable with it, it doesn’t seem right, what with my background. You’ve made me feel good calling me Kerensa, it means I really do have your friendship.’

Jenifer gave a short, strange laugh. ‘I always said to my Samuel that you look no more than a child, sweet and gentle, not old enough to be married. And now you have children of your own…’ Breaking off Jenifer looked towards the window. ‘Is it still raining?’

Rising, Kerensa pulled open the ill-fitting shutters of the window and studied the streaks of grey painted across the sky. ‘It’s just about stopped and the sun is breaking through. It should be nice and warm by evening.’

‘Samuel liked the warm early summer evenings. He used to say it was the best time of day to be out at sea.’ As she talked Jenifer sounded more and more distant. Her eyes became vacant. She looked decades older than her forty years. Her skin was wrinkled and flaking, the flesh mottled with blue and purple patches. Her hair was ravaged of all its natural fairness to a lifeless grey. Kerensa wondered if she had eaten or slept at all in the past two months.

‘Jenifer, where are the children?’