Trimble advanced on her but she held her ground. He was a big man, tall and burly with hands like hams and muscular forearms exposed by his rolled-up sleeves. His expression was grim. Bob growled and moved closer to Rosalind. She placed her hand on his collar in an attempt to reassure him.

‘I’ve brought the missis. You won’t deny a poor woman the comfort of seeing her only child, will you, ma’am?’ Trimble’s wheedling tone was at odds with his scowl, and his fists were clenched at his sides as he eyed Jarvis suspiciously.

‘You sold your boy to Hodges,’ Rosalind said firmly. ‘You gave him up, so why do you want him back now?’

Trimble grabbed his wife by the arm and thrust her forward. ‘You tell her, Emmie. Tell the lady how you cries yourself to sleep because you miss the lad.’

Emmie cringed, keeping her eyes downcast. She muttered something inaudible and received a sharp slap for her pains. ‘Speak up, woman.’

‘I misses him, ma’am.’

Trimble twisted her arm. ‘Say it with more feeling, you silly slut.’

‘That’s enough, Mr Trimble,’ Rosalind said angrily. ‘If you treat your wife so cruelly, why should I allow a young child to return to your household?’

‘Because he’s my flesh and blood.’ Trimble’s eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. ‘How many times do I have to say it?’

‘I believe you only want Tommy back because you intend to sell him again. Or perhaps you hope that I will give you money for him?’

‘I dare say we could come to an arrangement,’ Trimble lowered his voice. ‘Something that would make up for the pain of losing a dear one.’

Rosalind turned to Jarvis. ‘Mr Trimble looks as if he is in need of refreshment, Jarvis. Please take him to the still room. I’m sure a glass of ale will go down well on such a warm day, and I’ll look after Mrs Trimble.’

‘She comes with me,’ Trimble said hastily.

‘No, Ezra. I’ll stay here and wait for you.’ Emmie Trimble faced him defiantly. ‘I knows what to say.’

‘Come with me, my man.’ Jarvis folded his arms. ‘You’ve been offered a glass of ale. It would be unwise to refuse such hospitality.’

Rosalind waited for Trimble to make an excuse, but to her surprise he followed Jarvis without any further argument. She turned to the frail woman, who looked as if a puff of wind would blow her away. ‘Come with me, Mrs Trimble. I’m sure a cup of tea and something to eat would be welcome.’

Emmie nodded. ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

Rosalind took her to the morning parlour, having sent Molly to fetch a tray of tea and biscuits. Bob had bounded on ahead and he flopped down in front of the empty grate, but Rosalind knew that he was far from relaxed.