The look on Agnes’s face was more than enough to confirm that she was the Agnes Fielding they had been looking for, for it was one that was shocked, dismayed and guarded in turn. Once again her gaze turned nervously to the clock.

“Why should you wish to know about that?” she asked. “It is no business of yours.”

“No,” Emily agreed. “And ordinarily I should find such reminiscences very tedious indeed, but the widow will have told you why we are here.”

“She did.” Agnes nodded. “I cannot help you, for I saw nothing during my time there other than the floor I was scrubbing or the veg I was peeling.”

“There may be something, no matter how small or inconsequential, that you remember that might help us find the next path to take,” Anne said. “Please, Agnes. If you could share with us anything that you might remember?”

“It’s a lifetime ago,” Agnes said. “I was barely more than a child, and now my days are preoccupied with the missus and her son. I am sure I can’t remember anything of use to you.”

“May we at least ask you some questions that might prompt a recollection?”

“As long as you’re quick,” Agnes said. “Mr. Barraclough will be wanting to be fed. He’s a right old mither when he is hungry.”

“You worked alongside Bess for the best part of that year,” Emily began at once. “You must have seen the comings and goings. Was there anything . . . strange?” Emily asked. “Were children commonplace amongst them?”

“Not that I recall,” Agnes said, knitting and unknitting her restless fingers as she spoke. “But I was mostly in the house and didn’t have much to do with those who came to work the land—they were housed and fed in the barn.”

“What was it like up there in those days?” Anne asked.

“Like any farm, perhaps a little colder, a little more remote. Bradshaw didn’t pay me much mind, and I did my best to keep out of his way.”

“Were you afraid of him?” Anne asked.

“Afraid? No.” Agnes’s forehead wrinkled at the very thought. “When you are in service in a place like that, there are worlds that don’t touch, hardly at all. The world of the house and the world of the farm. He was sometimes in my world, but he wasn’t a part of it. The most I’d have to do with him would be to clear up his muddy boot prints from the flags, and that was it.” She glanced at the clock. “Does that help you?”