‘Where’s the boy?’ Trimble pushed her aside. ‘I ain’t leaving without him.’

Jarvis stepped forward. ‘You heard Mrs Blanchard, sir. I’d advise you to go now or I’ll send for some of the groundsmen to help you on your way.’

‘I ain’t afraid of an old man like you.’ Trimble raised his hand as if to strike Jarvis, but Bob leaped up and grabbed him by the arm, growling ferociously.

‘Get your dog off me or I’ll strangle the brute.’

Rosalind rushed forward and pulled Bob away. Her normally gentle friend was clearly disturbed and she had no doubt that he would defend her to the death if required, but she was not going to allow Trimble or anyone to hurt him.

‘I’ve asked you politely and now I’m telling you to leave my property, Mr Trimble. If you return you will not be admitted under any circumstances.’

‘I want the boy,’ Trimble said stubbornly.

Rosalind released Bob, giving him a command to sit, which to her surprise he obeyed. ‘As I told you before, I paid the sweep three guineas for Tommy, so he’s legally mine.’

‘Let’s go home, Ezra. We can’t do any more here.’ Emmie patted him on the arm. ‘Leave the boy.’

Trimble shook her off as if she were an irritating fly. ‘I told you to go outside and wait with the horse.’

Emmie shook her head. ‘No, I’m not going anywhere without you. I know what you’re like when you get angry. You’ll only make trouble for yourself.’

Trimble glanced at Bob, who was still growling softly in the back of his throat. ‘All right, I’m coming. But I will be back and if necessary I’ll bring a constable with me. I will have what’s rightfully mine.’

‘You can’t do that, Ezra. You aren’t his pa.’

Trimble raised his hand and brought it down hard on the side of his wife’s head, sending her sprawling to the floor. Jarvis stepped forward and before Trimble had a chance to argue Jarvis twisted the man’s arm behind his back.

‘I won’t stand by and see a woman treated like that. You’re leaving now, cully. Walk.’

Rosalind watched in awe as Jarvis seemed to shrug off his years and he marched Trimble out of the parlour. She bent down to help Emmie to her feet.

‘Are you all right?’

Emmie nodded. ‘I’m used to his ways, ma’am. He’ll be sorry later and I’ll forgive him. That’s how it goes with us.’

‘If you ever decide to leave him, I could find you somewhere to live on the estate. You don’t have to stay with a man who treats you worse than a dog.’