‘My Nancy will be back in a minute, Doctor.’ Betsy’s voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. ‘She’ll get the fire going and cook me an egg.’

Daisy looked round the hovel and was even more horrified than before. The manor house was like a palace compared to this, and the Christmas tree and presents seemed like shameless luxury. ‘What can we do?’ she murmured. ‘Are all the squire’s properties like this?’

‘You’ve seen where Jay was born, and to Lemuel’s credit it was comparatively well kept, or rather it was when my father owned the land. He looked after his tenants, but Tattersall bled them dry.’

‘But these people are starving,’ Daisy said in desperation. ‘Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and they have nothing.’

Nick snapped the locks on his bag. ‘That’s about it. I do what I can, but you’ll find at least a dozen families in the village who are in a similar predicament. I can’t take them all in.’

Daisy glanced at the thin shape beneath the covers and the old woman’s ashen face. ‘Will she survive?’

Nick shook his head. ‘There’s little hope, and Nancy is ill-suited to look after herself, let alone an ailing parent. The poor woman will end up in the workhouse or an asylum when the old lady passes away.’

‘You might not be able to help the others, but I can,’ Daisy said firmly. ‘Will you take me to the vicarage, please, Nick?’

He smiled for the first time since they had met that day. ‘I don’t think prayers will help in this instance.’

‘It’s Mrs Peabody I want to see. I know she’s a vital force and if she puts her mind to something it will be done.’

Grace Peabody stared at Daisy in astonishment. ‘You want me to tell all the late squire’s tenants that they have credit at the village shop?’

‘The squire’s tenants and anybody you know who is living in utter poverty. It’s time something was done for the people of Little Creek. They’ve suffered long enough at the hands of a ruthless landlord, and the squire’s son will make sure that such a thing never happens again.’

‘But thirty shillings a family is a lot of money, Daisy.’

‘Jay wants to make reparation,’ Daisy said recklessly. ‘I can’t get to the manor house until the weather improves, but if the shopkeeper will let them have the food on credit I know that Jay will pay him handsomely. It’s Christmas and no one should go hungry.’

A slow smile spread across Grace’s thin features. ‘Well, now! Who would have thought it? Jay Fox, the wild boy turned benefactor.’

‘The squire knew that Jay was his son, but he forced his own flesh and blood into an illegal trade. He used his only child to make money for him despite the fact that he was already a wealthy man.’

Grace folded her hands primly in her lap. ‘At least the squire atoned for his sins on his deathbed. John told me everything.’