Hilda nodded and Judy was left with no choice other than to do what her mother wanted, even though it felt completely wrong. She turned to Nancy, grasping her by the hand.

‘Promise me that you’ll watch out for my mother.’

Nancy’s small eyes glittered with excitement. ‘I most certainly will. You can’t trust men. I’m glad I never tied meself to one, although I had offers. I was pretty once.’

‘I’m sure you were,’ Judy said vaguely. ‘I’m sorry, Nancy, but I have to start walking. It’s three miles to Colneyhurst and it’ll be dark by the time I get there.’

‘Good luck, love,’ Nancy said gloomily as she climbed over the low wall and disappeared into her cottage, slamming the door behind her.

Faced with a long walk in the gathering gloom, Judy set off, heading towards Colneyhurst. The road took her along the margin of the saltings and as it grew darker she could see the tiny darting lights of the will-o’-the-wisp that had lured many a traveller to wander into the marshes. It was not until she reached the headland that the moon came out from beneath a thick blanket of clouds and the calm waters were bathed in a silver light. It was then that she spotted the almost forgotten and long-deserted smugglers’ inn. The landlord of this infamous hostelry, a relation of the notorious Dorning brothers, had been arrested and jailed along with his accomplices, and the pub had been empty for as long as Judy could remember. She could only imagine what it must have been like when the gangs were in operation, and the surrounding villages had been complicit in helping them to evade the revenue men.

Her feet were sore and she was exhausted, but she walked on despite the pain from her injuries. The road was deserted and she saw no one until she had almost reached Colneyhurst, but by this time it was pitch-dark and growing colder by the minute. Her thin cotton gown was no protection and she sighed with relief when she saw the lights of the Georgian mansion glimmering like tiny diamonds amongst the surrounding trees. An old man tipped his cap as he walked past her, and she acknowledged him with a nod.

‘If you’re planning on visiting the Hall, you’ll not find the master and mistress at home,’ he said gloomily. ‘Gone to London, they have.’

‘Thank you,’ Judy murmured as she hurried past him. She had been banking on finding Daisy at home, but perhaps Molly was there and she could share her room or, failing that, there were Pip and Nate. She headed for the servants’ entrance at the rear of the building and was met by a startled scullery maid. When Judy explained that she had come to visit her sister, the girl looked even more worried.

‘Molly’s gone to London town, miss. She’s looking after the little ’un, although Master Henry and Master Edward don’t need no nursemaid. They’re big boys now.’