no,’ Harriet said quickly. ‘You must work in your own way. I only asked so that we might know how to go on. It is important that we are in accord.’ She paused before going on. ‘Have you learned anything today?’
‘Very little. She is, I believe, coming to remember her childhood here and that is a start, but any questions about her life in London draw a blank. I think something must have happened there before she ever boarded that coach.’
‘Our view exactly,’ Matilda said. ‘But we are fearful of what might happen if she were to return there. We have discouraged her from attempting it.’
‘I think you are right. Until we know the truth of it ourselves, she is best here being looked after by your good selves.’
‘How are we to find out? We never travel to London.’
‘I shall send my man back to the capital to fetch things I need. We rode here, not expecting to stay above a day or two, and I have but one change of clothes. I shall instruct him, while he is there, to try and find out who this Mr Billings was and what happened at the house. And if there is any news of Mr Macdonald.’
‘He is trustworthy?’
‘I would trust him with my life, madam. And he knows how to keep his tongue between his teeth. You need have no fear.’
‘Good.’ She paused as footsteps sounded on the stairs. ‘Here comes Amy. I think we will not say anything about your man for the moment.’
‘Very well.’
He rose to his feet as Amy came into the room, dressed in a cool muslin gown with a light shawl thrown about her shoulders. Her cottager hat was tied on with a ribbon beneath her chin. ‘I am ready,’ she said.
They set off on foot, crossing the drawbridge and turning away from the drive and the main entrance to go across a green sward and taking a path through a small copse. ‘The trees were planted by one of my ancestors to protect the Manor from the prevailing east wind,’ she told him. ‘It can go right through you in the winter.’
‘That I can imagine,’ he said with a laugh. ‘There is very little between here and the Arctic to stop it.’
‘Perhaps that is why fen folk are so hardy,’ she said. ‘This path leads to a back entrance to the grounds, which is where the Lodge stands. See, there it is.’ They had come out of the trees and she pointed to a squat red-brick house, two storeys high, with a door in the centre of the façade and windows either side. It was neatly thatched. Beyond it were tall gates set in the wall surrounding the estate, on the other side of which was a lane. ‘It guards the Manor, just as the tower guards it on the other side. I am sure it was intended to withstand a siege.’
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