expect she is bored being cooped up. She went to bed quite early.’
‘Peter likes her to be kept to a routine. Mrs Grove settles her while we dine.’
About to tell her stepdaughter that the cook was on the point of quitting, Dawn thought better of it. She imagined Mrs Grove had already told her mistress she was unhappy...and so was Eleanor unhappy. Dawn sensed Eleanor would never admit to it, though. Peter Mansfield had warned his wife not to mention whatever secrets they had. Eleanor should be anticipating the arrival of her second child with joyousness as Dawn’s friend Emma was. But there was no joy in this house.
‘Shall we play cards?’ Dawn suggested brightly.
Eleanor shook her head. ‘I’m sorry to be such poor company, but I think I shall go and say goodnight to my daughter, then return to my room.’
‘You’re not poor company. Just being with you and Lily is a delight for me.’ Dawn wished there was more truth in that statement. She had come to Essex in high spirits, but now felt utterly deflated. But she must stay cheery for Eleanor’s sake. ‘I’d like to say goodnight to Lily, if I may.’
‘Of course... I’ll call Mrs Grove in to clear things away.’ Carefully Eleanor rose from the table, but before she reached the sideboard to ring the bell she tottered. Quickly she recovered her balance and clattered the brass implement.
‘You’re still feeling giddy?’ Dawn had risen immediately and gone to her aid.
‘I’ll be fine by morning.’
‘I very much hope you will. Your dress is very stylish,’ Dawn said, wanting to boost her stepdaughter in some way. She fondled a blue-dimity sleeve. And your hair looks very pretty. She was encouraged to think that as Eleanor had presented herself looking neat at dinner, she was feeling better. She had declined Dawn’s offer to lend a hand with buttons and curling tongs.
‘I’ll be off home when I’m done here, m’m.’ Mrs Grove had come into the room to start collecting the used crockery.
Dawn gave the woman a questioning glance.
‘I’ll see you in the morning, usual time, Mrs Mansfield,’ the cook added before departing with a loaded tray.
‘Will you retire early, Mama, or stay up after saying goodnight to Lily?’
‘I think I’ll play solitaire in the sitting room, just for a little while.’ Dawn had found the cards in a bureau drawer in that room earlier and had whiled away an hour while waiting for dinner to be served. She glanced at the window. ‘The sun has made an appearance at last.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Just before it is due to set.’ Heavy cloud had covered the heavens for most of the day, but had parted to allow a narrow strip of blue to be visible. But still it was bitterly cold. ‘Perhaps tomorrow, if it is fine, we could walk in the garden. Once I’ve unpacked my things I can give Lily her presents.’
‘She’ll like that. You are good to her and to me, Mama.’
They had been slowly walking the corridor towards the stairs, but Dawn suddenly halted and put an arm around her swaying stepdaughter. ‘Hold on to me!’
Eleanor was no lightweight now she was big with child, but Dawn managed to guide her to a chair in the sitting room. She would have preferred to get her to her bedchamber, but knew she would struggle to support her up the stairs. ‘I’ll fetch Peter,’ Dawn said determinedly. ‘Enough is enough. You are sick, my dear, and urgently need a doctor’s care. If he still refuses, I will fetch the fellow myself!’
Eleanor put out a feeble hand as though to detain her, but Dawn ignored her, dashing out into the corridor and then out of the house.
Picking up her skirts, she flew along the cinder path towards the church. It was about a quarter of a mile distant and she arrived breathless, but burst in through the heavy oaken doors, calling her stepson-in-law’s name. The place seemed deserted. Nothing stirred in the cold, eerie space and the only sound was her voice echoing back at her.
Dawn’s heart was in her mouth as she hurried outside. Usually she would be happy to avoid the dratted man; now when she needed him, he’d disappeared. She had a feeling of dread rolling in her stomach. Intuitively she knew that Eleanor was in immediate need of a doctor’s care.
‘Mrs Fenton?’
Dawn whipped around at the sound of that familiar baritone...a voice she had heard recently after a long, long silence from him. She stared almost without breathing as a tall male figure approached along the path. The pale sun behind his head was burnishing his fair hair with a silvery halo, making it impossible for her to read his expression. But she imagined her shock at seeing him was plain on her face.
‘Mr Valance?’ Dawn uttered in astonishment.
‘I thought it was you, Mrs Fenton. I was just about to ride off.’ He gestured to a horse tethered close to the lychgate.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ Dawn blurted out the first thing that came into her head and in her agitated state it sounded rather rude.
‘I have an estate over yonder.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the coast. ‘Croxley Grange.’ He gave her a half-smile. ‘It is quite a coincidence that we appear to be neighbours. I would have mentioned it in London, but you seemed in a rush to get away that day.’
Indeed, she did regret having left him before discovering that news. But she’d no time to dwell on it now. The spontaneous surge of excitement at seeing him so unexpectedly hadn’t lessened her anxiety over Eleanor.
‘I came to find the vicar, but he doesn’t appear to be around.’ Jack thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Unfortunately, I’m in need of the fellow’s services. An elderly servant has passed away. I wanted to speak to Mansfield about a funeral.’
‘Oh... I’m sorry...’ Although still in turmoil Dawn issued an automatic condolence. Her fear for Eleanor and her unborn child had put a throb in her temples to beat in time with the erratic thump beneath her ribs. ‘I am also searching for the vicar. He is married to my stepdaughter and she is very unwell. The doctor must be brought to her without further delay. She is with child and close to her time.’
‘Do you want me to fetch the doctor?’ Jack offered with a concerned frown. ‘Wilson is not far away; he recorded the death at the Grange just a short time ago.’
‘I would be most grateful, sir, if you would find him and bring him urgently to the vicarage.’
Jack extended a hand to her. ‘Would you like a ride home?’
‘No...thank you... I can easily walk. Please be quick, sir, I beg of you. I am very worried about Eleanor.’
Jack dipped his head, then strode to his horse, swinging up lithely into the saddle. He wheeled the stallion about and, with a raise of his hand in farewell, spurred the magnificent beast into a furious gallop. Dawn stared after the blur of horse and rider, entranced by a maelstrom of emotions. Gladness and overwhelming relief at having his help, astonishment at seeing him again were all jumbled together, but overriding it all was still her fears for her stepdaughter.
