seek out her brother. She needed a little time to herself and she needed to think about the task her father had set her. One thing was very sure: her inheritance was going to have to be sacrificed and the sooner she accepted that the better. She went up to her bedchamber, put on a light shawl and a bonnet and set out for the village.
* * *
But for the problems that weighed her down she would have enjoyed the short walk. The sun was shining, the birds were singing and the hedgerows were bright with blossom. Hadlea village, set in the north Norfolk fenland, was not a large one. There was a church, a rectory, a windmill, two inns and several cottages grouped around a triangular village green on which there was a pump and some old stocks, though no one had been put in those in her memory. Side roads from the green led to a farrier and harness-maker who also mended shoes, a butcher and a tiny front-room shop that sold almost anything the village women might need from salt to sugar and soap to candles, working boots to plain cotton tick. For anything like muslin and silk, ribbons and bonnets, they had to make a trip to Norwich or King’s Lynn or wait until the travelling salesman came round, usually at the end of the harvest when his customers had a little money to spend.
Jane made her way to the rectory and was greeted cheerfully by Mrs Caulder. ‘Come in, Jane, I will have some tea and cakes brought into the parlour. It’s time Henry came out of his study. He has been in there all morning, working on tomorrow’s sermon.’
Mrs Caulder was very plump, a testament to a love of her cook’s cakes. She fussed around, giving the orders and calling her husband to join them, while Jane sat on one of the chairs and wondered how she was going to explain that the five thousand pounds she had promised for their project would not be forthcoming. She could not divulge the true state of affairs.
‘How are you my dear?’ Mrs Caulder asked. ‘Did you walk here? I did not hear the pony and trap.’
‘I walked. It is such a lovely day.’ Even as she spoke, she wondered if the pony would have to go, or perhaps the carriage, or the riding horses.
‘To be sure it is. Ah, here is Henry.’
The Rector was of medium height, with a shock of grey hair, which he wore long and tied back with a thin black ribbon. He was a jovial man and beamed at Jane. ‘What a pleasure to see you, my dear Miss Cavenhurst. I hope I find you well.’
‘Very well. But I am afraid I have some disappointing news.’
‘Surely not the wedding?’ exclaimed his wife, handing Jane a cup of tea.
‘Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s simply that I cannot give our orphan project the five thousand I promised.’ She paused, then resorted to an untruth. ‘I find I cannot touch it until either I marry or I reach the age of thirty in three years’ time. I have been racking my brains trying to think of a way of going ahead without it.’
‘My dear girl, do not look so downbeat, it is not the end of the world,’ the Rector said, flinging up the skirt of his coat and seating himself beside his wife to take a cup of tea from her. ‘We will contrive somehow without it. We shall have to find a wealthy patron, more than one if need be. I never did feel quite at ease about you giving it in the first place.’
‘Oh, I am much relieved,’ Jane said. ‘I thought it would be the end of all our hopes. You have given me fresh heart.’
‘There are orphanages all over the country, some a great deal better run than others. We must ask them how they manage and draw up a list of possible patrons. You, I am sure, could persuade people to donate. It is a good cause and you are so passionate about it.’
* * *
Jane laughed at that and the rest of the visit passed cheerfully. She was still smiling as she started out to cross the green on her way home. She had her head down, deep in thought, and did not see the two men until she was almost abreast of them.
‘Jane, we are well met,’ Mark called out to her.
She looked up, startled, and found herself hurtling back ten years. The man beside Mark was unmistakable. The years had dealt kindly with him. He was tall, broad and muscular and dressed to perfection in a brown coat of Bath cloth and fawn buckskins tucked into shining tasselled Hessians. A gold watch chain hung across his creamy brocade waistcoat and a huge diamond sparkled in his cravat. All this she noted before lifting her eyes to look into his face. It was tanned and the only lines were around his hazel eyes, due either to laughter or squinting in the sun. He was regarding her with a look she interpreted as amusement. Was she a comical figure? To be sure, her dress was plain, but her shawl was pretty and the ribbons on her bonnet were new even if the bonnet was not.
‘You remember Miss Cavenhurst, do you not?’ Mark said to him. ‘This is Jane, sister to my fiancée.’
‘Of course I remember,’ Drew said, doffing his hat. ‘How do you do, Miss Cavenhurst?’
‘I am well. And you?’ She had often wondered what it would be like to meet him again and whether the old attraction would still be there. He was an extremely attractive man, to be sure, and a great deal more confident than the man she had sent away, but after ten years, it would have been surprising if she had not found him changed.
‘I am in good health, Miss Cavenhurst, and happy to renew acquaintance with you. It has been some time.’
‘Ten years,’ she murmured and then wished she had not mentioned the time. He would assume she had been counting and dwelling on it, which was the last impression she wished to give him.
‘Yes, and every one of them devoted to the goal of returning one day, having made my fortune.’
‘And have you?’
‘I believe so.’
‘He is a nabob,’ Mark said, laughing. ‘But underneath he is the same Drew Ashton I knew before he went away. He has come to stay with us at Broadacres and be my groomsman.’
‘I thought you already had someone,’ Jane said, turning towards him. He was almost as tall as Drew, but slimmer and his urbane good looks contrasted sharply with the weathered look of his friend.
‘So I did, but he has been called away and when I met Drew in London, the solution to my problem was obvious.’
‘How fortuitous for you.’ She turned back to Drew. ‘So, you came to see how we all go on in Hadlea, Mr Ashton. We are a quiet community, little changes here.’
‘Except we all grow older and wiser,’ he said.
‘That is true, of course.’ Was that some reference to their youth ten years before or was he telling her his old passion had died a natural death, as surely hers must have done?
‘Jane, I need to have a quiet word with you,’ Mark said. ‘Perhaps Drew will excuse us for a moment?’
‘To be sure,’ Drew said. ‘I will amuse myself exploring the village.’ He bowed to Jane. ‘Good day, Miss Cavenhurst. I shall look forward to renewing my acquaintance with the rest of your family while I am here.’
She bowed her head in acknowledgement. ‘Good day, Mr Ashton.’
She watched him stride away, then turned back to Mark. ‘He is much changed and yet he has not changed at all.’
‘Except
