Chapters (36)
- The Rockwood Chronicles
- Rockwood Map
- The Rockwood Chronicles family tree
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Read on for a sneak peek of the next book in The Rockwood Chronicles …
- Duke Street, London
- Keep Reading …
- About the Author
- Also by Dilly Court
- About the Publisher
‘Neither did Bertie, or so Trimble’s wife says, but Grandpapa knew and so did Hester. Grandpapa sent Sally away to have her baby and her sister Emily went with her. Bertie doesn’t know that he’s a father.’
‘Well, I’ll be jiggered! It will come as a shock to him, but from what I’ve seen of young Tommy he’s a credit to the family. Louise has told me what the poor kid suffered when he was a climbing boy. It’s all wrong using children that way. In fact I’m incorporating that in my novel. Maybe it will make the government sit up and think, if I manage to get it published.’
‘That’s wonderful, Walter. I knew you’d be a success at writing one day. You’ve never been interested in anything but literature and poetry.’
‘I might have a leg up when it comes to publishing. My friend’s father is a publisher and I’ve been helping Timothy when he’s stuck for words. He’s promised to put a good word in for me.’
Rosalind rose from the window seat. ‘I’m sure you’ll get published on your own merit, Walter. Just keep at it.’
‘That’s what Louise says.’
‘She’s a very sensible lady. You should listen to her. Now I must write that letter to Bertie. I’ll be in the study if you need me.’
Rosalind barely slept that night. Piers’ even breathing in the bed beside her made lying wakeful in the small hours even more frustrating, and she envied him his peaceful slumber. She rose early, washed, dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen to discuss the day’s menus with the surprised cook.
‘Should I make you some breakfast, ma’am?’ Mrs Jackson gave her a searching look. ‘I was like you when I had my first baby. Up all hours and very little sleep.’
‘I didn’t know you had a family, Mrs Jackson.’
‘They’re all grown up and married, or gone to sea in the case of my sons. I had six babies and all survived, I’m pleased to say.’
‘But you’re still working, Mrs Jackson.’ Rosalind did not like to ask why Cook’s children allowed their mother to work hard for her living after bringing them all into the world and raising them to stand on their own two feet.
‘I could reside with any one of them, ma’am, apart from the boys, who are at sea. But I like my independence, and I enjoy working here.’
‘I’m very glad of that,’ Rosalind said, smiling. ‘You are an excellent cook and we all appreciate your efforts. As to myself, I’ll have breakfast when my husband wakes up. My brother-in-law arrives today, so I think I’ll just check that everything is ready for him.’