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hadn’t realised how long a country mile can seem.’
    She saw him give Prue what could only be a quick warning glance. Warning of what? But the grinding ache in her hip was only too real and she knew that she must rest it for a while.
    He stepped back. ‘I’ll come and take you to see the house myself tomorrow afternoon, Mistress Bedham. I can’t come in the morning, as I have someone to see, but I know my way around that house as well as anyone, and shall be happy to be your guide.’ He should know the house - he’d had to make quite a few emergency repairs lately to stop the old place going from bad to worse.
    He was striding back to his cart before Sarah could say anything.
    ‘Well!’ She turned to the landlady. ‘Does he always take charge like that and tell folk what to do?’
    Prue shrugged. ‘If there’s something to be done, you can always rely on Will Pursley to get it done. And I’ll feel better if you have him with you tomorrow, my dear.’ For she, too, was afraid that Sewell’s men might waylay the newcomer and she was uncertain whether to warn her guest about him and his bullies, or hope Sewell would not dare act against one of his own class.
    Upstairs, Sarah lay down on the bed, sighing in relief as the pain eased a little once the weight was off her hip. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d seen. How forlorn Broadhurst Manor had looked - and yet, how lovely it could be, for there was a harmony to the lines of the house that pleased her greatly.
    ‘If it’s at all possible,’ she said softly as she got ready for bed that night, pinching out the last candle and pulling the covers cosily around her, ‘I would like to live there.’
    ‘There must be some way,’ she muttered a few minutes later, as she slid towards sleep. ‘There must.’
    And why she should dream of Mr Pursley that night, she couldn’t think. In the morning, she had to wonder at how unsettling her dreams of him had been - the feel of his hand on hers, the strength of his shoulders, the firm line of his lips. She’d never had such dreams in all her life before. But then, she’d never met a man like him. So strong. Not a mincing town gentleman, well not a gentleman at all, but a man of character, open-faced and quietly confident of himself.
    And handsome enough to turn any woman’s head.
    Oh, she was being foolish! She drifted off to sleep on the less disturbing thought that tomorrow she would see her new home properly, go inside, take possession.
    It would be hers for a time, even if she was forced to sell it. But she’d only do that as a final resort.
    Whatever anyone said.
     

Chapter 3
     
    The following morning Sarah woke early. Excitement hummed through her as she got ready, and images of the old house’s exterior kept floating through her mind. Today she wouldn’t be staring at it from a distance, but actually going inside. And if it weren’t for her stupid hip, she’d have done that yesterday.
    ‘Is your boy free to drive me to the Manor this morning?’ she asked Prue Poulter, who carried up her breakfast tray in person.
    ‘I thought Will Pursley was to take you there this afternoon?’
    ‘I’m not going to sit around half the day waiting for him!’
    ‘I - I .  . ’
    ‘This morning, if you please!’
    Prue went away, shaking her head and muttering to herself.
    ‘Mistress says I’m to drive you round by the farm lane,’ the stable boy offered as they left the village. ‘’Tis a bit longer, but less muddy, easier on the pony.’
    ‘Very well.’
    Sarah watched eagerly for the first sight of her house, her face softening into a smile as they drove round a bend and on to the overgrown drive. When they drew up before the front door, she let out a long sigh of happy anticipation, allowed the lad to help her down, then told him to return for her in three hours time.
    ‘Mistress Poulter said I were to stay here, case I’m needed,’ he objected, edging from one foot to the other.
    She set