her thoughts, until he had finished his letter.
‘There, all done. Now, I had best go downstairs and find a servant to take it to the post. Then I think I shall take a little air. Will you come with me?’
She glanced out at the sunshine but refused, reluctantly. She would have liked to go outside, but she did not know if Ben was still at the inn and she would not risk another meeting. With that thought in mind she locked the door behind Henry, just in case, then prowled restlessly about the room. At the writing desk she stopped, looking at the sheets of writing paper in disarray. Her eye was caught by one sheet which bore several lines of writing. Dear Henry, had be missed a page of his letter? She picked up the paper, but what she saw there made her blood run cold.
* * *
Unusually, Ben slept late, his slumbers disturbed by images of Serena Coale. It would have been better if he had ignored her, rather than stirring up memories best left alone. After a hasty breakfast he walked out to the stable to collect Morgan, the huge roan gelding that had carried him faithfully for so many miles. A little rain had fallen in the early hours but the sky was clear and as he trotted out onto the road he hoped for a dry journey to York.
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