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‘And very pleased I am to hear it, sir,’ she replied softly. ‘Did we disturb you?’

‘No, my dear, I was waiting for you, but this infernal laudanum keeps dragging me off to sleep—do better without it.’ He glared balefully at his manservant, who regarded him fondly in return.

‘Bring a light, man. I want to see the girl properly!’

Although it was daylight the heavy curtains were drawn to keep out the sunshine, making the room quite dark. Chegwin lifted a branch from the dresser and held it aloft so that Harriet’s face was bathed in its pool of candlelight. The old man contemplated her steadily for several minutes, his eyes faded but indubitably grey, and she felt no embarrassment at his scrutiny.

Sandford grinned, feeling a surge of respect at such composure. ‘Well, sir? And do you approve?’

Beldale gently squeezed Harriet’s hand. ‘Very fetching, my boy,’ he said. ‘Your mama was right—image of her grandmother—glad you found her, Sandford—made her ladyship very happy.’ His voice faded, then his eyes flashed wide open once more. ‘Keep your guard up, Robert—just remembered—something—happened …’ His head drooped back on to the pillows and Sandford started up in alarm, but Chegwin put his hand on the viscount’s arm and steadied him.

‘He’s all right, sir,’ he said. ‘Keeps dropping off like that. Needs the stuff for the pain, you see. Leave him to me, if you please, sir—and ma’am.’

He bowed towards Harriet who, seeing Sandford’s agitation, had immediately risen from her own chair but, at the sight of the tears in his eyes, had swiftly bent to tidy the covers over Beldale’s recumbent form.

‘I know you’ll take good care of him, Chegwin.’ Sand-ford’s voice held a tremor but, straightening his shoulders, he held out his hand to Harriet and escorted her from the room.

Downstairs, Lady Caroline was waiting in the small dining-room as the dishes were being brought in. They took their places at the table and she signalled to Rothman to begin serving.

‘His lordship seems so much better, don’t you agree?’ she applied hopefully to her son. ‘Sir Basil thinks to reduce the medication tomorrow—it has been over a week since his fall.’

Sandford nodded. ‘He will be relieved to be off the drug—he dislikes taking it, I know. It seems to make him ramble somewhat, too. I remember having to take it myself on one occasion and had the most awful hallucinations. I’m sure he will be better without it.’

The meal progressed through the various courses, during which Lady Caroline, eyes twinkling at her son, inquired as to the success of their visit to Westpark. Harriet, after describing Judith’s plans for the forthcoming assembly, thanked the countess for the garments that had been delivered in their absence, expressing her particular delight with the green silk gown intended for the party and it was in a happy, friendly mood that they all repaired to the salon afterwards, with Sandford opting to take his brandy with the ladies and the evening being rounded off with some rousing games of piquet.

The following day the viscount rode over to Westpark, as he had promised, to take his nephew out riding. Harriet spent part of the morning with the earl, at his request. He was more lucid than he had been on her previous visit and had expressed a desire to hear her story first-hand. He, in turn, was able to tell her more of her family’s history and Chegwin was very satisfied to hear, more than once, the sounds of stifled laughter issuing from his master’s bedside.

When Harriet rose to leave, having judged that his lordship was beginning to tire, the manservant accompanied her to the door with a smile, saying, ‘This has done him a deal of good, miss, if I may say so. He will sleep naturally this afternoon, I feel sure.’

Finding that Lady Caroline was engaged with the housekeeper, Harriet decided to take herself for a walk down to the lakeside, where she hoped that the air would be fresher. The day was warm and very humid and, having been cooped up in Lord William’s darkened rooms for some time, she felt that she needed the exercise. She walked sedately across the sweeping stretches of the rear lawns until she was sure she was out of sight of the windows then, running and skipping with pleasure, she reached the waterside.

The lake had been sunk many years previously and its banks were quite steep in parts. Both willow and aspen straddled the water’s edge and bulrushes grew in profusion. A small pavilion was situated on an island in the middle of the lake. This was reached, as far as Harriet could tell, by the rowing-boat that she could see tied up outside a boathouse on the far side of the lake and she began to make her way towards it along the path, which meandered around the lake.

Now shaded from the sun by the leafy branches of the trees on both sides of the path, she felt much cooler. Smiling at the sight of the mallard duck leading her almost-grown brood in stately procession across the water, she frequently strayed to investigate the various splashings and rustlings of other small water creatures exploring their habitat. These delays caused her to take much longer than she had intended but, when she eventually arrived at the boathouse, she was still determined to take just a little peek at the pavilion, judging that it would not take her many minutes to row the short distance to the island. She checked that the oars were in place and was beginning to untie the mooring-rope when she heard a cry. Startled, she looked around, fearing that she had, once more, broken some unwritten rule. The cry was repeated, this time louder and she realised that it was a cry of distress.

Someone was calling for help. Her eyes scoured the water and the banks, trying to identify the place from which the sound had come. Then she saw. A small boy, up to his waist in the water, was clinging to the roots of a willow tree that grew at the water’s edge. Picking up her skirts, she ran quickly along the path to the spot. She could see that the bank sloped steeply down into the murky water, which was thick with weeds. She could not tell how deep the water was at that point, but did not stop to consider it. Crawling on her knees, she edged her way downwards, stretching out a hand towards the grimy lad.

‘Reach forward,’ she said. ‘See if you can take my hand.’

‘Oh, miss—miss—I can’t do it,’ came the wailing reply. ‘I’m stuck fast in the mud.’

Harriet slithered further down, her hands on the roots of the tree and grabbed at the boy’s wrist. He suddenly jerked back and pulled himself away and, to her horror, disappeared beneath the surface. Scrabbling to regain her balance, she felt her body sliding sideways down the bank and, although she managed to keep hold of the tree root, she found herself up to her knees in the mud. Frantically, she looked about her for the child, who was nowhere to be seen, but a sudden sound from the water’s edge some distance to her right alerted her to the astonishing sight of a small, bedraggled figure climbing out of the lake and disappearing into the bushes.

‘What on earth … !’ Harriet exclaimed in rage, as she struggled to free herself, but, upon finding that her feeble attempts had merely caused her to lose one of her slippers, she held still and tried to apply her mind to her situation. Her feet were on firm enough ground as far as she could tell, but she could see nothing within her reach that would help her to extricate her legs from the mud’s tenacious grasp. She was eyeing the thin root she had managed to keep hold of, weighing up its ability to take any strain, when to her dismay she heard the sound of approaching hooves and then the unwelcome sight of the rider, Sandford himself, appeared on the path. He could not fail to observe her.

‘Good God!’ he exclaimed, reining in and leaping from his mount. ‘How has this happened? Here, take my hand …’ and, leaning his weight against the boll of the tree, he effortlessly hoisted Harriet to firm ground. She ignored the glimmer of laughter in his eyes as she tried, ineffectually, to sweep away the thick black mud from her clinging skirt.

‘You just can’t stay out of mischief, can you?’ he said, his grin widening.

‘This was not my doing,’ she said crossly. ‘Someone pulled me in. There was a young boy—I thought he was in trouble—but I slipped and he—he swam off and left me.’

Sandford regarded her with unconcealed amazement. ‘A boy? What boy?’ he said, looking about him.

Harriet stamped her unshod and mud-encrusted foot. ‘How dare you disbelieve me!’ she stormed. ‘I am not in the habit of telling lies! There was a boy, I tell you!’

Tears of fury began to prick her eyes, but she blinked them away and struck out at him with her muddied fists. He backed away quickly before she could touch him.

‘Whoa! Steady, there!’ He looked at her uncertainly. ‘We’d better get you back to the house before anyone sees you like that. Are you cold?’

Harriet shook her head, wearily controlling herself. ‘No, thank you. I will soon dry in the sun but—I have lost a slipper and it is a long walk back.’

‘I’m sure Pagan can cope,’ Sandford rejoined. Pulling a rolled-up blanket from his pannier, he wrapped it around her muddied skirts and proceeded to lift her effortlessly on to his saddle.

How tiny her waist is, he marvelled, holding her steadily as she attempted to find her balance. His senses quickened as he felt the vibrant warmth of her body through the thin muslin fabric. Warning signs immediately flashed in his brain. Abruptly, he withdrew his hold.

‘All set?’ he asked, with apparent cheerful unconcern. ‘See if you can steady yourself against the pommel. Hang on to Pagan’s mane.’

Harriet complied with his instructions in silence. Assuming that the viscount would climb up behind her, a mounting sensation of breathless confusion gripped her at the thought of the necessarily close physical contact.

Sandford had intended to ride with her but, for some unfathomable reason, now found that he was unable to trust himself with her tantalising nearness. He hesitated momentarily, then gathered the horse’s reins in his hands. ‘I’ll lead him in,’ he said, still feeling somewhat shaken. With a slight frown on his face he started back towards the house.

Harriet registered his hesitation and her heart seemed to shrivel, overwhelmed by feelings of humiliation and rejection. With difficulty she repressed these emotions as she tried to apply her concentration to keeping her seat and her replies to Sandford’s searching questions became curt and, for the most part, monosyllabic.

Sandford led his horse into the stableyard and Tiptree came running at the sound of his master’s voice. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the dishevelled figure being helped down from Sandford’s mount, but he said nothing as he took the reins and the mud-stained blanket from the viscount.

‘Don’t put him away,’ Sandford instructed. ‘I shall need him again. Get Thunder saddled for yourself. I’ll be back presently.’ He escorted Harriet through the rear of the house to the foot of the staff staircase.

‘Come up this way,’ he said. ‘The kitchen staff will be at lunch. I’ll head off anyone who appears.’

Harriet reached her room unobserved and, as soon as she had closed the door behind her, she slumped down on to the nearest chair, regardless of the mess she was making, for she was utterly chagrined. What else could go wrong? she wondered. The morning had started so well and she had enjoyed her time with Beldale. The lakeside walk had been so pleasant until that incident. A puzzled frown creased her forehead. What was the meaning of it? It was no accident, of that she was convinced, but could see no point in what had occurred. Just a malicious prank? But, to what purpose? And, more infuriating, why had Sandford dismissed her story out of hand? Oh, if only her grandfather would reply to Lady Caroline’s letter! Harriet felt that she could no longer remain at Beldale under such a cloud and wondered if she could confide her troubles to Judith Hurst. In spite of Sandford’s instructions she was tempted to ask her new friend’s advice should a suitable opportunity arise.

During the next few days Harriet did her utmost to avoid Sandford’s company. She spent much of her time with the earl, who enjoyed her pretty attentions and was making steady progress towards a full recovery. She managed to take one or two rides about the park and to visit Judith, but only when she was sure that Sandford was elsewhere. She was obliged to take her meals with him, of course, but made sure she had a fund of Lord William’s stories to relate to the countess so that it became unnecessary to hold a separate conversation with the viscount. Sandford himself appeared not to notice her evasive behaviour and, in any event, always seemed deeply preoccupied with estate business. To Harriet’s relief, he made no further reference to the lake incident. Harriet had decided not to tell her hostess the full story of her misadventure, merely saying that she had slipped on the bank whilst trying to untie the boat. Lady Caroline had, at first, been rather shocked that Harriet had not asked a manservant to row her to the pavilion, then she had laughed and said, ‘You modern young ladies! You have so much more freedom than we did in my day. I envy you, I do truly!’ And the matter was forgotten.

At last the letter for which Harriet had been praying arrived. Rothman delivered it to her ladyship at the breakfast-table and the countess broke open the seal eagerly.

‘How quickly he has replied,’ she said, as she scanned the contents. ‘Yes, he says he has written at once—you are to remain with us—he is actually coming to fetch you himself! He says he is overjoyed—and forever in our debt—what nonsense—but how sweet! Oh, my dear! Your troubles will soon be over!’ She placed the missive into Harriet’s trembling hand. ‘There, my child. You may read it for yourself. Your grandfather will be with us in no time at all if all goes well with his travel arrangements,’ and, turning to Sandford, she said, ‘Isn’t this happy news, Robert? Ramsey will surely come to his granddaughter’s rescue now that he knows her whereabouts, don’t you think?’

Sandford nodded, but did not reply. He felt a sudden lowering of spirit for which he could not account and stared moodily across the table at Harriet, but she was still deeply engrossed in her grandfather’s words. Excusing himself, he quickly finished his coffee and left the room.

‘We must go and tell Beldale the good news,’ said the countess. ‘He will be so happy for you—and glad to see Ramsey again, I dare say—if only to compare the wrinkles!’

Harriet laughed joyfully. She was feeling euphoric, hardly believing that her dream was finally about to become a reality. How long would it take her grandfather to travel to Beldale? Two weeks, perhaps. She could surely hold out until then, now that she knew he was actually coming. Then she was struck by a sudden thought.

‘But—Judith’s party?’ she inquired of the Countess. ‘We must inform her before it is too late to cancel. It will not be necessary to pretend an engagement now, surely?’

Lady Caroline hesitated on the stairway, considering the problem.

‘On balance, my dear,’ she said at last, ‘I think it would be wiser to wait until your grandfather arrives—supposing he were delayed? Remember that we conjured up the plan in order to prevent unsavoury gossip. It is still the best protection we can offer you until he comes. Judith’s guests will have seen the notice in the Mercury and it will not do to start up a hive of speculation so soon after the announcement. Don’t worry, dear child. It’s only a small local party, after all.’

And with this she continued up the stairs.

Harriet was perturbed, but did not mention the subject again. She knew that the countess had gone to considerable trouble to keep other members of the family away from Beldale House, using Lord William’s indisposition as an excuse even to her own two daughters, who had been besieging her with requests to visit their father. Harriet had been relieved to learn that she was not expected to come under Sandford’s sisters’ scrutiny, as she doubted that her acting ability would pass muster under such close inspection. Casual observation by a few local families at a small houseparty would be much less of a trial, she decided. She determined to put away her fears and do her best to look forward to the forthcoming assembly, reasoning that Sandford was unlikely to accord her anything other than the devoted attentions of the newly engaged man he was supposed to be, especially since the plan seemed to have been concocted with his approval. After that, as far as she was concerned, he could please himself!

Chapter Four

Sandford stood at the entrance to the Dower House with a frown on his face. He was not looking forward to confronting his aunt with his discovery and, on being shown into Lady Eugenie’s morning room, he saw that his cousin Ridgeway was also present and resigned himself to an uncomfortable few moments.

Ridgeway saluted him from his seat at the desk and Lady Eugenie smiled at him in welcome.

‘Why, Robert,’ she said, holding out her hand for his kiss. ‘This is indeed a pleasant surprise—but your father—’ her voice grew anxious ‘—he has not taken a turn for the worse?’

The tiny, birdlike Lady Eugenie was a sweet and gentle soul who had suffered a very unhappy marriage to a man who had married her only for her considerable dowry and name. He had treated her monstrously, flaunting both debts and mistresses with total disregard for her sensitivities. When he had finally taken his life she had felt nothing but relief and had dedicated the succeeding thirty years to charitable works. Her brother’s pensioner, she had no money of her own, but gave her time unstintingly to any deserving organisation that approached her, from orphans’ relief to support for fallen women. The meagre staff she employed at the Dower House consisted entirely of waifs and outcasts rescued from disaster by her ladyship. Ridgeway jokingly predicted that they would one day be found murdered in their beds but, secretly, he was immensely proud of his mother’s achievements and her entire household was devoted to both the baroness and her son.

Sandford, having assured his aunt of the earl’s continued improvement, stood undecided momentarily, abstractedly tapping his crop against his boot.

Ridgeway, attending to some paperwork, raised his head at the sound and looked at Sandford curiously.

‘Problem, coz?’ he asked cheerfully.

The viscount nodded. ‘Rather tricky, Charles, actually.’

Ridgeway’s face grew serious and he rose at once to his feet. ‘Let’s have it then, Robert—and for goodness sake, sit down. If it’s not Uncle Will, what’s the trouble?’

Sandford cleared his throat and turned to his aunt with a troubled look. ‘It’s one of your boys, Aunt Eugenie—he seems to have been up to mischief.’

Ridgeway laughed and his mother’s pensive frown vanished immediately.

‘The young scamps are always up to something, Robert,’ said his cousin. ‘Stealing apples, I suppose? You’d think we didn’t feed them…’ He stopped as Sandford shook his head.

‘Fact is, Charles,’ he said brusquely, ‘two days ago one of them pulled Miss Cordell into the lake and swam off!’

His aunt gasped and put her hand to her throat while Ridgeway started in disbelief.

‘You can’t mean it, man! Let’s have the whole, if you please!’

Sandford related Harriet’s tale briefly, then went on to describe how he and Tiptree had scoured the lake area for the culprit, without success. He had then extended his search into the village where every boy of relevant age had been questioned thoroughly.

‘I admit I was at point non plus,’ he confessed wryly, ‘until Tip brought me word that old Mrs Jennings remembered having seen one of your young imps scrambling through our hedge with his clothes soaking wet. She supposed he had been messing about in the lake and thought no more about it. I’m sorry, Aunt Eugenie,’ he finished awkwardly, ‘but I’m afraid I’ll have to follow it up.’

His aunt looked helplessly towards her son, who nodded briskly at Sandford.

‘Right, man,’ he said. ‘Let’s get at it.’

Turning to his mother as they left the room, he said, ‘Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll sort it out. It’ll be one of Sukey Tatler’s young ‘uns—you mark my words.’

He led Sandford down the back stairs to the kitchens where a group of Lady Eugenie’s reclaimed streetwalkers were to be found chattering merrily as they went about their work. They immediately fell silent at the sight of the two intruders to their domain.

Ridgeway sought out the young woman he had named and beckoned her to the doorway. ‘Come outside, Sukey, his lordship wants a word with you.’

Eyes full of foreboding, the young woman complied, while the rest of the group stood looking at one another in consternation. Grateful to have been rescued from the awful poverty and degradation of their former existence, they still lived with the constant fear of being rejected and returned to their old haunts. They idolised their benefactress with unalloyed reverence for her part in their salvation, but were generally resigned to the fact that life had a habit of delivering the most crushing blows when one least suspected them.

Ridgeway ushered the scullery-maid out into the yard.

‘Do you know where Billy is?’ he asked her gently. ‘His lordship needs to speak to him.’ Sukey shook her head.

‘Don’t never know where ‘e is, guv,’ she said tremulously. ‘But ‘e’ll be ‘ome for supper, that’s fer sure. What’s ‘e done this time, guv?’

‘Something very serious, I’m afraid, Sukey,’ said Ridgeway.

The woman’s face was filled with fear.

‘You ain’t gonna send us back, guv?’ she pleaded. ‘I’ll skelp ‘is ‘ide, I swear to God!’

‘I hope it won’t come to that,’ Sandford intervened. ‘I have a feeling that he isn’t entirely to blame. Do you know who his friends are?’

Getting no further help from the boy’s mother, they sent her back to the kitchen where she was at once surrounded by her peers demanding to know whether they were all about to lose their places.

‘I’ll send one of the men to look for him,’ offered Ridgeway. ‘If he comes back and hears you were after him, he’ll make himself scarce. We need to find out why he did it. Someone must have put him up to it—it makes no sense.’

Sandford agreed with his cousin and reluctantly left the matter in his hands for the time being, but insisted on being notified as soon as the boy was found. He asked Ridgeway to give his regards to Lady Eugenie and took his leave.

Riding back across the fields to Beldale he attempted, for the umpteenth time, to analyse his own turbulent emotions in what he hoped was an objective manner. It had now reached the point where he found himself increasingly reluctant to venture into any of the rooms in his own home for fear of encountering Harriet’s stony expression! He was beginning to find it almost impossible to deal with her continued indifference towards him. He had pretended not to notice, of course, and had done his best to stay out of her way while trying to clear up the matter of the missing boy. He was furious with himself for having, apparently, given her the impression that he thought she had been lying, for no such consideration had entered his mind. He had simply been utterly taken aback that such a thing could happen on Beldale lands and had, subsequently, left no stone unturned in his efforts to find the culprit. His constant spur had been the thought of restoring that winsome smile to Harriet’s face, but he was still no nearer to any solution and the prospect of another long and wretched evening loomed before him.

He entered the hallway just as the countess was ushering Harriet into the estate office and, as he made for the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief that at least he would not be called upon to suffer that cool, disdainful gaze in the immediate future.

‘Harriet has visitors, my dear,’ said his mother, over her shoulder. ‘Are you going up to your father? I will join you when I have finished here.’

Sandford frowned as he climbed the stairs, curious as to the identity of Harriet’s visitors and wondering why they should be ensconced in the office, which was normally reserved for estate matters. His throat tightened as he considered the prospect of her leaving Beldale sooner than anticipated.

Harriet was also in some apprehension as to who her visitors could possibly be but the initial look of puzzlement was wiped from her face in a flash as she beheld the stocky figure before her and, rushing forward in delight, she threw herself at him crying, ‘Ozzy! Oh, Ozzy!—how on earth did you find me?’

Ex-Sergeant Jeremiah Osborne, late of the 67th Cavalry and her father’s one-time batman, took her hands in his and shook his head at her behaviour.

‘Now then, Miss Harry, a little more conduct, if you please! What would my Martha say—let alone your mama? Did they teach you to be a hoyden, I wonder?’

He grinned as he spoke and her eyes sparkled in return as she took the seat that Lady Caroline had motioned her into. Standing proudly erect in military manner, the old soldier looked to Harriet exactly as he had done on that day, two years previously when, hard upon her family’s disembarkation, he and his wife had decided to part company with them to start a new life of their own.

Harriet turned from Osborne to the countess, who had been smiling at the interchange.

‘I don’t understand, ma’am,’ she said carefully. ‘I thought you said a messenger from my mama … ?’

Lady Caroline patted her hand and waved Osborne to a chair as she herself sat down at the desk.

‘Perhaps we should allow Mr Osborne to relate his own tale, my dear,’ she said gently and, nodding to Osborne, ‘Please be so good as to begin.’

‘Well, my lady, as I was telling you earlier—’ Osborne leaned forward, clasping his hands together between his knees ‘—after we left the family at Dover, Martha—my wife—and I went on to Hampshire, where we’d heard of a little inn we might fancy—you know we’d been keen to try it, Miss Harry…?’

He wagged his bushy head at her and she nodded, hardly able to contain her impatience as he continued with his tale. The inn, it seemed, had been a success and Ozzy and Martha were in a fair way to being quite prosperous and had lately decided to take a much-deserved break, having promised themselves a visit to their old master and mistress as soon as they could manage it.

‘We wanted to give you a surprise, you see, but—it was us that got the surprise—or, shock, more like. We only got as far as the Partridge—the village inn, my lady—and the tongues were wagging fit to drop off. Miss Harriet was gone and worse, as far as I was concerned, the Major was dead and Lady Cordell had up and married her next-door neighbour.’

He brushed his hand across his eyes to conceal his emotions, cleared his throat and resumed. ‘But I had to go up to the house to see for myself—and what a change I did find in the mistress—her once so brave and feisty! I never knew anything to faze her the whole time we was out there, Miss Harry.’

Tears had started in Harriet’s own eyes as she answered him.

‘I know, Ozzy. It was Papa dying, you see. It threw her right off balance and it seemed that she couldn’t cope with anything at all. That’s how she came to marry Sir Chester—for he somehow seemed to take over, dealing with the funeral arrangements, and Mama allowed him to ferret through our papers and all sorts of things. Afterwards, it was very easy for him to persuade her into marrying him. She was just so unhappy and lacked interest in everything. It wasn’t until he had moved us up to the Hall that all became clear. He had enormous debts and he was absolutely furious when he found that I would inherit and not Mama. He accused her of trickery, would you believe? Then he started on this plan for marrying me off to his odious son—Mama wouldn’t have it, of course, but he made her life unbearable as a result and I could tell he was beginning to wear her down. Then, when I overheard him talking to the ghastly Gilbert—and it appeared that they were planning some sort of abduction—they intended to trap me into marriage

—I left a note for Mama telling her I was going to find my grandfather—then—I just left!’

There was a moment’s silence. Osborne shook his head and sighed as the countess gave Harriet a little smile of sympathy.

‘Don’t fret yourself, my dear,’ she said gently. ‘You will come about, believe me. Lord Ramsey will take care of everything, I feel sure.’

‘I am hoping so, ma’am,’ Harriet said dispiritedly. ‘If only he could come more quickly. You have been very good, your ladyship, but I wish that I, myself, could do something more useful on my own behalf.’

Turning to Osborne, she asked anxiously. ‘And you did not see Mama at all?’

‘Oh, yes, my pretty, I did that. I crept round to the gardens and gave her the shock of her life, I can tell you! But she was real glad to see me and wanting to hear all my news. We even had some laughs over old times but, as you’ve said, she wasn’t herself although she did tell me much of the tale. Apparently Middleton got hold of your note and had the stagecoach lists checked at both the Lincoln and Grantham offices and your mama was mighty worried until she saw the announcement of your betrothal in the Post because she knew then that you were quite safe—and, although it was no easy matter for her to write a letter for me to deliver—here I am, at your service, as you might say. And I also have to tell you that my Martha is a-waiting in your housekeeper’s room—fretting herself to bits, no doubt!’