To complicate matters even more, Mr Mounce sent word that Piers’ trial would take place less than a week after Patricia’s wedding. Rosalind had asked twice for an interview with her husband and both times she had received a firm refusal. She decided to take matters into her own hands and, using the excuse that Nancy had to have a final fitting for her wedding outfit, Rosalind instructed Hudson to drive them to Exeter. Despite arguments from Hester, Rosalind took Dolly with her and she declined Hester’s offer to accompany them, even though she knew that she would be angry and offended. However, Hester would have been even more outraged if she had known that the real reason for the trip was to visit the prison. Rosalind was determined to see Piers even if she had to wait all day.

Meggie Brewer had the gown wrapped and ready for collection and if she wondered why Rosalind did not insist that Nancy tried it on, she was too polite to say so. Nancy sat in the carriage fingering the delicate material with a rapt expression on her face, and Rosalind ordered Hudson to drive on to the prison. He shot her a worried glance but he did not argue, although he did question Rosalind’s decision to go to the gates on her own.

‘I won’t be long, Hudson. Just stay there and keep an eye on Nancy and my baby. I’ll be as quick as I can.’ Rosalind could hear him muttering as she marched up to the prison gate and rang the bell. A guard appeared but her request to see her husband was refused, no matter how hard she pleaded, even when she insisted on seeing the chief warder himself. She was almost in tears when the gate was finally slammed in her face and the prison warder turned his back on her and walked away. She was about to climb into the carriage when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

‘Well, if it ain’t Madam High and Mighty Blanchard. Don’t tell me that your old man is in stir.’

The unwelcome sound of Ezra Trimble’s voice made her spin round to face him. ‘Mind your own business, Mr Trimble.’

‘Arrogant to the last, but I heard on the grapevine that Piers Blanchard finally got his comeuppance. We all knew that he was crooked.’ He placed himself between Rosalind and the carriage.

‘I’m in a hurry, Mr Trimble. Let me pass.’ Rosalind could hear Dolly’s mewling cries. She was due for a feed and Nancy was having difficulty in pacifying the hungry infant.

‘So you’ve got a little ’un now.’ Trimble leaned into the carriage. ‘That’s a tiny one. Give it here, girl.’

‘Leave my baby alone.’ Rosalind beat her fists on his back. ‘Don’t touch her. Hudson, don’t just sit there, get down and help me.’