Rosalind shrugged. ‘The scullery maid will do it when she gets up. It’s her job. You’d better sleep down here. It’s quite warm in the kitchen, just make sure you’re gone before she starts work.’

‘Thank you, maid. Just tell me one thing.’

Rosalind put her head on one side, eyeing him curiously. Now she could see him more clearly she liked the look of the boy from the boat. He was probably a bit older than Bertie and he was tall for his age, with a mop of dark hair that curled slightly round the back of his head. What struck her most were his eyes, which were slightly almond-shaped, large and a mysterious shade halfway between green and brown with tiny gold flecks. She decided that she liked him. ‘What do you want to know, boy?’

‘Will you tell me your name, so that I can remember the little girl on the beach?’

Rosalind smiled. ‘My friends call me Rosie. Goodnight, boy.’

‘Not so fast, Miss Rosalind.’

Rosalind found her way barred by the ample figure of Hester. ‘What’s going on, and who is this?’ Hester grabbed the boy by the collar as he attempted to escape.

‘Boy brought me home, Hester. Don’t scold him. I was on the beach and the preventive men were shooting smugglers. I fell and boy saved me.’

Hester released him. ‘What were you doing on the beach in the middle of the night, Miss Rosalind? You’re bleeding. Sit down and I’ll take a look.’

‘I’ll go, miss,’ Boy said hastily.

‘You’re not local. I haven’t seen you before. You’re not going anywhere, my lad. It’s not safe with them smugglers roaming the cliffs.’

‘I can take care of myself, miss.’

‘You’ll sleep here tonight, boy. You can leave in the morning when it’s safe to do so.’ Hester attended to Rosalind’s abrasions. ‘Now, off you go to bed. I’ll look after your young friend.’