It was the end of July and Piers had travelled to London the previous day for a business meeting. Rosalind was on her way to the stables when she heard someone sobbing. She opened the door to the feed store and found Tilly Madge curled up on a pile of empty sacks, crying as if her heart would break. Rosalind bent down to pat her on the shoulder.

‘Tilly, what’s the matter?’

Tilly scrambled to her feet, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘Don’t apologise. You’re obviously very upset about something. What is it?’

‘It’s Ma and the young ’uns. They’re being evicted from our cottage today.’ A fresh bout of sobbing rendered her incapable of speaking.

‘Why are they being evicted? This is the first I’ve heard of it.’

‘Ma couldn’t pay the rent,’ Tilly sobbed.

Rosalind took her by the hand. ‘Come with me, Tilly. I’ll soon put a stop to this.’ She marched to the stables where Gurney had the pony and trap ready for her. He stared curiously at Tilly, but Rosalind was not in a mood for explanations. ‘Get in, Tilly.’

‘Should you be driving on a day like this, ma’am?’ Gurney asked tentatively.

‘I have something important to do, Gurney. Stand aside, please.’ Rosalind flicked the reins and clicked her tongue against her teeth. ‘Walk on, Ajax.’

The ageing Dartmoor pony was still eager to oblige, and Bob ran along beside the trap as it gathered speed. The cottages on the quay belonged to the Rockwood estate, and Widow Madge had paid a reduced rent since her husband was lost at sea. They arrived to find Tilly’s four sisters lined up on the quay wall, while bailiffs dragged furniture from the tiny cottage. Rosalind had never understood how the family managed to exist with only one room on the ground floor and one bedroom above it, but somehow Widow Madge had raised six children. Her son had followed his father’s footsteps and become a fisherman at the age of eleven, but tragically both father and son had drowned during a sudden storm. Tilly had gone into service at the castle a few months later. However, the younger children still depended upon their mother to support them and she did this by taking in washing and mending.

Rosalind handed the reins to Tilly and she alighted slowly and carefully. ‘What’s going on, Mrs Madge?’

‘Oh, ma’am, I am so sorry. I tried so hard to raise the rent money but young Jennet was poorly and I had to send for the doctor. Then I had to buy medicine and it’s cost me dear.’

‘Don’t cry, Mrs Madge.’ Rosalind stepped in front of the burly bailiff. ‘You can put all that furniture back in the cottage where you found it.’

‘I got orders, missis.’