It was almost an hour before Rosalind could get away from the vicarage, but this time she was not on her own. With Nancy’s small fingers clutching her hand Rosalind set off for Rockwood, carrying the small linen bag that contained all Nancy’s worldly goods.

‘How old are you, Nancy?’

‘I don’t know exactly, miss. I think I’m ten.’

Rosalind nodded. Nancy was so small and undernourished that it was difficult to tell. Her pansy-brown eyes were huge in her pale face, and her mouse-brown hair was scraped back into a knot at the back of her head. ‘Have you got another name, Nancy? What I mean is, do you know your parents’ surname?’

‘They found me on the doorstep on a Sunday morning, so they called me Nancy Sunday. That’s all I knows. Am I going to be your servant, miss?’

‘My name is Mrs Blanchard, and I’m thinking that what you need most is a good meal and some new clothes. What do you think about that?’

Nancy gazed up at her in astonishment. ‘Cook says I was standing behind the door when God gave out brains, and I’m clumsy. I expect you’ll take me back to the orphanage in a day or two.’

Rosalind squeezed Nancy’s hand. ‘That won’t happen, and I think the vicar’s cook was wrong and very unkind. At Rockwood you will never be asked to do anything that’s too difficult for you to manage. That’s a promise.’

Despite her young age, Nancy was exhausted by the time they reached the castle, and Rosalind carried her into the courtyard. She was met by Alexander, who was now walking with the aid of one crutch.

‘Who is this little waif?’ He lifted Nancy easily in one arm. ‘She looks done in.’

‘This is Nancy Sunday. She is the Shaws’ idea of charity, taken on from the orphanage and about to be sent back because she couldn’t lift a full coal scuttle.’

Alexander shook his head. ‘Poor little mite. What would you like me to do with her?’

‘Is Hester back yet? She’ll know what to do to make Nancy comfortable. I think she might have a slight fever.’

‘Yes, Hester returned about half an hour ago. I’ll take this little one to her parlour, shall I?’

‘That’s a good idea. Hester knows far more about childish ailments than I do. She treated all of us as children, although her cures were often worse than the illness itself.’ Rosalind shuddered dramatically, which made Alexander laugh.

She smiled back at him, enjoying the mutual understanding that had always been part of their relationship. More often than not she had to explain her feelings to Piers, whereas Alex understood without having to be told. She walked on quickly, leading the way to Hester’s parlour.