‘They look pretty as owt,’ said Silas.

‘Good enough to grow in the limited space I have for gardening,’ she said, plucking at the tablecloth nervously with one hand. The other hand held a letter.

‘What’s the matter?’ He closed the door behind him and leaned on it. ‘Am I in bother?’

‘No, Silas. You are wanted, though. Will you sit down, please? You’re making me nervous looming over me like that.’

He pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Go on then, Missus Gunson.’

She reached forward to touch his sleeve. ‘Well, there are two matters. I have some bad news for you, Silas.’

His stomach contracted. ‘Is it Harriet?’

‘No. No, it’s nothing to do with that family.’ She put the letter on the table in front of him. Silas picked it up. He could read quite well now, thanks to Charlotte Gunson. It had been opened. He looked up at her and raised his eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry, Silas. It is addressed to you, but I was worried it was from the court or the police and I thought I might be able to deal with it, without causing any more upset to you. You’ve been through so much.’

‘But it is bad news.’ He couldn’t bring himself to look at the page he held. It was covered in a spidery half-remembered hand.

‘Yes. Silas, it’s from your father. Do you want to read it yourself, or shall I tell you what it contains?’

‘Here.’

He held out the sheet and she took it from him and laid it flat on the table, and looked into his eyes.

‘Silas, I’m very sorry to tell you that your brother has died. Peter had an accident on the farm and a Reverend James has written on behalf of your father to tell you that you must return home as soon as you possibly can.’

Silas looked away from her sympathetic gaze. Outside, a horse and rider clopped slowly by. A fly bumped and buzzed against the windowpane, trapped behind the net curtain. He should let it out, or kill it. ‘Does Father give a date for… for the funeral?’

‘No. They’ve had the funeral already. I’m sorry. You should read the letter from your father, Silas. Whatever you decide to do, you will have the support of myself and Mr Gunson.’

‘Aye, thank you.’ He was surprised to find his throat was thick with tears. He took the letter back and folded it and put it in his jacket pocket.

‘I’m so sorry, Silas.’

‘It’s not tha fault.’ He spoke more roughly than he’d intended.

‘Your father says there’s a widow…’

‘Aye. Ginny.’

‘… and a baby boy to consider. Your father wants you back to run the farm. Forgive me for asking, but did you leave on bad terms? He’s most insistent that you obey him.’

Chapter 41

A meeting was taking place in the master bedroom. Polly had been persuaded into a bed jacket and thence into Walter’s armchair. Albert Boothby and the family solicitor stood before her and Harriet took up position beside her chair. It was explained that Walter’s share of the construction business would pass to Harriet’s brother, in trust, along with the house and its contents, until Adam came of age. Albert told Polly that he would pay a nurse to provide round-the-clock care for her, to free Harriet from the burden. Harriet shuddered as the gilded cage of her future life closed around her. In any event, he remarked to the solicitor, Walter’s young niece would be embarking shortly on her new life as Mrs Albert Boothby.