their faces. Harry insisted wild cats were to blame but Lillian didn’t think so.
John went into the cottage, silently praying for his wife and daughter’s safe journey, hoping they would get out of Woodbury without being seen. Ellen’s injuries would certainly demand questions, and what answer would she give? He shook his head and pushed yet another worry to the back of his mind. Scowling, John slung on his jacket and joined his children outside again. ‘Get your coat Jim; we’d better make a move. Sir Edmund will be waiting to get the search started.’ Turning to Lillian and Harry he said, ‘Stay in the house and keep out of trouble. We’ll be back as soon as we can.’
‘They’ll be all right, Dad. Lillian’s a sensible girl, she’ll look after little Harry.’ Jim attempted to ease his father’s worry.
‘I know,’ John answered sourly. He wasn’t worried about the little ones. He trusted Lillian; out of all of them she was the most sensible. Anyway, if the worst should happen they still had Jim. John stole a glance at his elder son. How long, he wondered, would it be before Jim put two and two together and realised Laurence’s disappearance and his mother and sister’s injuries were connected.
As if reading his mind, Jim said, ‘Maybe Laurence’s been attacked by the same man who hurt Mum and Amy, Dad.’ Fizzing with anger and frustration he added, ‘We’ll find the bastard, and when we do, by God I’ll bloody kill him.’
John didn’t answer. What could he say? He continued walking, head bent low into his jacket collar, so that Jim couldn’t see the tears on his face.
***
Daisy Hope’s skirt flapped against her legs and made a swishing sound around her ankles. Her new leather boots creaked with each stride as she hurried up the long drive to Tapscott Manor. Although determined in her quest, she faltered as she neared the imposing building. A wide rise of stone steps led up to an impressive carved oak door flanked on either side by white stone pillars. Each side and above, square Georgian windows defended the interior, giving occupants a shielded position from which to observe visitors. The majestic and intimidating entrance appeared to look down its nose at Daisy, causing her to reconsider approaching the main door. Instead she made her way to the rear of the building. Rounding a corner brought Daisy into a large square yard where the smell of fresh baking made her mouth water, and she supposed the kitchen was situated nearby. On the opposite side of the yard a lower building ran to meet the main house, forming an L shape. A narrow opening in between the two walls was gated. Beyond the gate a path wormed its way through the meadows and disappeared into Oakham Wood.
Daisy stopped and gaped. The yard was filled with men, fifty at least, some of them quite young, tasty too, she thought. Her glance though was superficial. Only one man in particular interested Daisy and she searched the sea of faces for him. The men all wore rough working clothes and cloth caps, evidently farm labourers, not gentlemen ready for a hunt as was Daisy’s first impression. She spotted Sir Edmund Deverell in the crowd and Daisy thought he looked as work worn and weary as the other men. Noticing Jim Farrell in the crowd she waved him over to her. Beyond Jim, Daisy’s eyes alighted on the very person she’d come to see and she checked her bodice quickly, to make sure her ample cleavage was displayed.
‘What’s going on, Jim?’ Daisy asked, as Jim strode up to her.
‘Laurence Deverell didn’t return home last night and nobody’s seen him since yesterday afternoon. Dad’s organising a search of the wood. Thanks for volunteering by the way,’ Jim said, smiling. He knew Daisy from the Nags Head pub where she worked as a barmaid. He’d asked her out once but Daisy had said no. He’d found out later that Daisy had her sights set on a bigger fish.
Through the crowd Daisy saw Leo again and began
John went into the cottage, silently praying for his wife and daughter’s safe journey, hoping they would get out of Woodbury without being seen. Ellen’s injuries would certainly demand questions, and what answer would she give? He shook his head and pushed yet another worry to the back of his mind. Scowling, John slung on his jacket and joined his children outside again. ‘Get your coat Jim; we’d better make a move. Sir Edmund will be waiting to get the search started.’ Turning to Lillian and Harry he said, ‘Stay in the house and keep out of trouble. We’ll be back as soon as we can.’
‘They’ll be all right, Dad. Lillian’s a sensible girl, she’ll look after little Harry.’ Jim attempted to ease his father’s worry.
‘I know,’ John answered sourly. He wasn’t worried about the little ones. He trusted Lillian; out of all of them she was the most sensible. Anyway, if the worst should happen they still had Jim. John stole a glance at his elder son. How long, he wondered, would it be before Jim put two and two together and realised Laurence’s disappearance and his mother and sister’s injuries were connected.
As if reading his mind, Jim said, ‘Maybe Laurence’s been attacked by the same man who hurt Mum and Amy, Dad.’ Fizzing with anger and frustration he added, ‘We’ll find the bastard, and when we do, by God I’ll bloody kill him.’
John didn’t answer. What could he say? He continued walking, head bent low into his jacket collar, so that Jim couldn’t see the tears on his face.
***
Daisy Hope’s skirt flapped against her legs and made a swishing sound around her ankles. Her new leather boots creaked with each stride as she hurried up the long drive to Tapscott Manor. Although determined in her quest, she faltered as she neared the imposing building. A wide rise of stone steps led up to an impressive carved oak door flanked on either side by white stone pillars. Each side and above, square Georgian windows defended the interior, giving occupants a shielded position from which to observe visitors. The majestic and intimidating entrance appeared to look down its nose at Daisy, causing her to reconsider approaching the main door. Instead she made her way to the rear of the building. Rounding a corner brought Daisy into a large square yard where the smell of fresh baking made her mouth water, and she supposed the kitchen was situated nearby. On the opposite side of the yard a lower building ran to meet the main house, forming an L shape. A narrow opening in between the two walls was gated. Beyond the gate a path wormed its way through the meadows and disappeared into Oakham Wood.
Daisy stopped and gaped. The yard was filled with men, fifty at least, some of them quite young, tasty too, she thought. Her glance though was superficial. Only one man in particular interested Daisy and she searched the sea of faces for him. The men all wore rough working clothes and cloth caps, evidently farm labourers, not gentlemen ready for a hunt as was Daisy’s first impression. She spotted Sir Edmund Deverell in the crowd and Daisy thought he looked as work worn and weary as the other men. Noticing Jim Farrell in the crowd she waved him over to her. Beyond Jim, Daisy’s eyes alighted on the very person she’d come to see and she checked her bodice quickly, to make sure her ample cleavage was displayed.
‘What’s going on, Jim?’ Daisy asked, as Jim strode up to her.
‘Laurence Deverell didn’t return home last night and nobody’s seen him since yesterday afternoon. Dad’s organising a search of the wood. Thanks for volunteering by the way,’ Jim said, smiling. He knew Daisy from the Nags Head pub where she worked as a barmaid. He’d asked her out once but Daisy had said no. He’d found out later that Daisy had her sights set on a bigger fish.
Through the crowd Daisy saw Leo again and began
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