‘Haven’t you got a servant to do that?’

Judy laughed and shook her head. ‘There’s just Ma and me, and my brother Nate manages the stables and acts as a potman in the evening. We manage very well.’

‘But your doctor friend told you that the building of the hospital would bring more trade. How would you manage then?’

‘We’ll meet that eventuality when it happens.’ Judy rose to her feet. ‘You’ve finished. Would you like some apple pie?’

‘No, thank you. That was excellent, but I’ve eaten my fill, and now I must go, but I’ll be back this evening.’

‘Don’t you want to see your room first?’

He smiled. ‘I’m sure it will be perfect. Thank Hilda for her efforts in the kitchen. Tell her I look forward to supper.’ He picked up his cap, gloves and riding crop and left the taproom with a cheery wave.

Judy took the tray back to the kitchen.

‘Well?’ Hilda said eagerly. ‘Did he enjoy his meal?’

‘Yes, he did, and he’s coming back this evening for dinner, and he wants the room we’ve kept for the doctor.’

Hilda stood arms akimbo. ‘Well, since that gent hasn’t turned up, I see no reason why we can’t let it to a paying customer. I reckon the advance Dr Godfrey gave you has run out by now.’

‘You’re right,’ Judy said, placing the tray on the table. ‘But I’d love to know what business Rob Dorning has round here. Maybe I can find out when he returns this evening.’

‘I’m sure there must be a good reason.’ Hilda picked up the coal scuttle and handed it to Judy. ‘Be a dear and fill this for me.’

‘That reminds me,’ Judy said, frowning. ‘I’d better light a fire in his room. Heaven knows when Dr Godfrey will put in an appearance.’

The taproom was quiet as usual in the early evening with only a few customers. Eli, the old man who looked after Colonel Catchpole’s pigs, and smelled worse than all the animals in his care, was a regular. He always sat in the corner of the bar, nursing a pint of mild beer, which would last him the whole evening, unless someone bought him a drink. Seated near the fire was the gamekeeper from Colneyhurst Hall, and his son, Davey, whom Judy recognised as one of the stable lads who worked with her brothers. He kept eyeing Judy and grinning at her, but she chose to ignore him. She was not in the mood for banter with a cheeky fourteen-year-old. Nate was in the kitchen eating his supper, but he would be in the bar later, collecting empty tankards and serving when required.

She had just thrown another log on the fire when the door opened and Dr Godfrey walked into the taproom, bringing with him a gust of ice-cold air and a dusting of dead leaves. Judy’s heart sank, but she managed a welcoming smile. ‘Good evening, Doctor.’

He took a seat as far away from the other customers as was possible. ‘Brandy, please, Judy. Bring me the bottle.’