Rosalind had formed a strong attachment to Tommy, especially in the knowledge that he was her nephew, and, as the days went by she was growing fonder of Nancy. Rosalind had taken to visiting the schoolroom in the morning and she was able to help Louise by listening to Tommy’s attempts to read while Louise took Nancy through her multiplication tables. These quiet periods helped to lessen Rosalind’s immediate fears for Piers’ safety for a while, but not for long. There was no escaping the fact after a week had passed that Piers had disappeared, whether by intent or by mischance. If he had suffered an accident Rosalind was certain that they would have been notified, and this added to the suspicion that foul play had been committed. Although why anyone would want to harm Piers was a mystery. He had confessed and explained his involvement with the smuggling gang when he was younger, and he had atoned for his misdeeds. As far as Rosalind was aware he had led a blameless existence since they married three years ago, although now there was a nagging doubt in her mind. However, to voice such worries to either Hester or Alex might seem disloyal and she bore the anxiety in silence.

It was two weeks since Piers had left so abruptly and still no news of his whereabouts. The mild September weather had been overtaken by a cold start to October with rain and gales, but Rosalind was determined to carry on as usual. Without a steward she had undertaken to collect the rents herself, and visiting the tenants took her mind off her worries. She had known them all since she was a child and it was more like dealing with members of an extended family. Alex had tried to dissuade her, pressing home the point that she was getting very close to her time, but Rosalind needed something to do and she laughed off his worries. Hester knew better than to try to stop her doing something she had set her heart on, and Rosalind drove the sturdy governess cart with Ajax in the shafts. He was old and reliable, and he could find his way home on his own if absolutely necessary. She spent some time chatting to Dora Greep, who presented her with a beautiful knitted shawl for the baby. Rosalind went on to visit the other tenant farms, ending up late in the afternoon at the fishermen’s cottages on the quay.

She had not meant to stay out after dark but the days were getting shorter and the clouds had come tumbling in from the west. Strong winds lashed the sea into a frenzy of white-tipped waves and gulls whirled overhead mewing and wailing like souls in distress. Widow Madge was the last of Rosalind’s calls, but as she entered the tiny cottage a sharp pain made her double up, gasping for breath.