Daisy wrapped her cape tightly around her to combat the chill wind from the east and she set off on foot for Creek Hall, where she hoped to find Dove. The lane ran parallel with the creek, and when she came to the shallows where she and her uncle had found Jay, she wondered whether he and his crew had managed to refloat the Lazy Jane. Jay’s sudden departure had upset Jack and Linnet, and Daisy could understand why they were so fond of their wayward elder brother. Life would never be dull with a man like Jay Fox, but neither would it be safe nor settled. He was a born wanderer and an adventurer, but that only added to his attractiveness. She sighed and quickened her pace.

Born and bred in the city, Daisy found life in the countryside a challenge, but living in London she had barely noticed the seasons changing. Now each day she noticed something that brought hope of spring, whether it was a patch of snowdrops at the foot of the hedgerow, or the buds on the trees waiting to burst forth into leaf. It was as if the world renewed itself by magic, and today was no different. The wood close to Creek Hall was carpeted in the bright golden flowers of lesser celandine and winter aconite. The birds seemed to realise that winter was gradually losing its grip and the saltmarsh was teeming with life. Daisy slowed down as she approached the mellow house, which seemed so much a part of the landscape that it might have grown from the clay soil rather than having been built brick by brick all those years ago. She could understand Nick’s devotion to his old home and she experienced a surge of anger towards Squire Tattersall, whose greed was consuming the county that she had come to love, even in such a short space of time.

Daisy entered the kitchen and was enveloped in a warm fug of cooking smells and the scent of herbs, which hung in bunches from the rafters. Mrs Bee and Dove were seated at the pine table, cleaning the silver, but they stopped what they were doing and looked up, smiling a welcome.

Mrs Bee put down the polishing cloth she had been using so energetically. ‘Put the kettle on, Dove. We’ll have a break and enjoy a chat with our visitor.’

Daisy took off her bonnet and cape and laid them on a chair. ‘Thank you. That would be lovely. It’s beautiful outside but very chilly.’

‘It’s brought the roses to your cheeks,’ Mrs Bee said approvingly. ‘As you can see we’re busy cleaning the silver, not that there’s much of it left. The old master sold off some of the more ornate pieces, but we keep what’s left nice, ready for the doctor when he chooses to visit.’

‘Have you heard from him recently?’ Daisy pulled up a chair and sat down, rubbing her hands together in an attempt to stop them tingling. In her eagerness to escape from the squire she had left her gloves at home.