Downstairs, she was on her way to the drawing room to see if Mary wanted anything when she met Dr Godfrey in the hallway.

‘I was looking for you, Judy. You left us rather abruptly.’

‘It’s difficult, sir.’ Judy dropped her gaze. His charming smile invited confidences, but she was wary of saying too much.

‘I can see that,’ he said gently. ‘I know a little of your history, and Nick explained how Mrs Tattersall came to be mistress of Creek Manor. It’s an incredible tale, worthy of gothic novel.’

Judy looked up and met his humorous gaze with a giggle. ‘I don’t think Mrs Tattersall would appreciate that, Doctor.’

‘Are you coming, Ben?’ Dr Neville strolled up to them. ‘I have a couple of calls to make on my way home. I’d value your opinion.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Dr Godfrey turned back to Judy with a smile. ‘There’s very little I can do for Jack. I’m afraid it’s a matter of time and, of course, the good care he’s receiving, but if you need someone to talk to, or if I can be of help in any way, you can reach me at the hospital.’

‘Goodbye, Judy,’ Dr Neville said affably. ‘You know you can send for me at any time. If I don’t see you before, I’ll see you at your mother’s wedding. It’s the talk of the village.’

‘Really?’ Judy stared at him nonplussed. ‘I don’t see why.’

Dr Neville looked away. ‘Don’t take any notice of the gossips, Judy.’

‘What are they saying? I want to know.’

He shot her a sideways glance. ‘Oh, you know the type of thing. They talk about the curse of Creek Manor, no doubt referring to the days when the old squire was here and the goings-on then, and the fact that Jay abandoned Daisy on their wedding day. You know the rest. It’s all nonsense, of course. I’m sure that your mother’s wedding will go off smoothly.’

Chapter Seven

Judy took the small posy of rosebuds and forget-me-nots from her mother and went to sit beside Molly in the front pew. They exchanged watery smiles as the Reverend John Peabody intoned the words of the marriage service, and Judy took her handkerchief from the pocket of her new gown, fashioned by Miss Creedy’s clever hands. She wiped her eyes and at an insistent tug at her sleeve from Molly, she passed her the hanky. Molly might be bright and beautiful, but to Judy’s knowledge her sister had never in her whole life had a hanky when she needed one. She glanced at Pip and Nate, who were looking uncomfortable in their Sunday best, and Nate kept running his finger around the inside of his starched white collar, his ruddy cheeks turning scarlet from the heat.