He curved his lips in a wry smile. ‘I’ll try to be brave.’

Judy followed Mrs Trundle to the bedroom upstairs where a fire had been lit in the grate.

‘This is the only spare room we have, my dear,’ Mrs Trundle said apologetically. ‘But don’t worry, your young man will have to double up with Seth, although I’m afraid my boy snores.’

‘My mother will be worried,’ Judy said, sighing. ‘This is all so unfortunate, but of course we’re very grateful to you for taking us in.’

Mrs Trundle ran the warming pan over the sheets. ‘I’ll do that again before you turn in, dear. The damp gets everywhere at this time of the year.’ She tipped the coals into the fire and a warming blaze roared up the chimney, sending a shower of soot onto the hearth. She laughed and wiped a smut off the tip of her nose. ‘Oh, Lord! I forgot that the chimney hasn’t been swept for a while. Anyway, let’s get you out of those wet things.’ She opened an oak chest and took out a plain woollen gown that was at least two sizes too large for Judy’s small frame. ‘This will have to do until your clothes are dry. Now let’s get that boot off so that I can take a look at that ankle.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Trundle. You’ve been so kind.’

‘It’s Prudence, dear. No need to be formal.’ She helped Judy to take off the boot and examined her ankle. ‘It is just a sprain. You’ll need to rest as much as possible, but it will soon get better. Now let’s see to those wet garments.’

Half an hour later, wearing Mrs Trundle’s old grey dress and with her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, Judy went downstairs to join the others. She was pleased to see that Rob’s wound had been neatly stitched and was no longer bleeding. He had swapped his wet clothes for an old pair of trousers and a shirt that probably belonged to Seth, and the colour had returned to his previously ashen cheeks.

‘You should wear your hair like that more often,’ Rob said, smiling.

‘You’re a very pretty lady,’ Seth added.

‘Mind your manners, son,’ his father said, frowning. ‘We don’t make personal remarks, do we?’

‘Leave the boy alone, Joe.’ Mrs Trundle proceeded to arrange their damp garments on a clothes horse in front of the range. ‘Set the table, please, Seth. I’ll serve supper as soon as I’ve done this.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Judy asked anxiously.

‘No, miss. You’re a guest in our humble home and we don’t allow guests to lift a finger. Seth, do you hear me? Lay the table.’

Joe Trundle pulled up a chair and sat down at the head of the table. ‘We’ll go out first thing in the morning to see what damage is done to your carriage, Rob. There’s nothing we can do until then.’

‘Has it stopped snowing?’ Judy took her seat beside Rob. ‘How will we get home to Little Creek?’