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crashed into the wall. She lay there unmoving.
    ‘Dear God,’ I cried. ‘What have you done?’ I struggled to my feet. Bertram caught me at once by the waist. ‘Oh no. Oh no, you don’t. You’re not getting away again. I tell you, Belinda, if I can’t have you, no man will.’
    ‘Let me go! She’s hurt!’
    Bertram grabbed my face and twisted it towards him. ‘Answer me once and for all, will you be my wife?’ I did the only thing I could think of and bit him hard. I sank my teeth into the side of his hand until they grated against bone. He gave a little shriek and released me. He still stood between me and the door, so I scrabbled at the patio window that looked out onto the orchard and ran out into the night.
    I ran fast. Branches clutched at my clothes and my hair. Some light leaked from the house, showing me my escape, but it quickly faded under the dark sky. I thought I could hear footsteps behind me, so I ran on. All I could think was I had to get away and I had to get Bertram away from the house before true catastrophe overwhelmed us all. Blind panic sent me far, far into the night until I realised I had no idea where I was.
    I stopped. The Fens were wide and large. The village and farm were out here somewhere, but so were the marshes. I had lost all sense of direction. Then the air around me began to cool. The temperature dropped lower and lower. My body began to shiver uncontrollably. I tried to remain rational, but I knew this was no natural phenomenon. I had an over-riding feeling that something was coming. Something was coming to meet me.
    Fog rolled in. What little I could see in the moonlight vanished in a haze of white. Then I heard it. A splashing, sucking noise. The ground under my feet rippled. In front of me it bubbled and broke. The depths flung up a dark object. A horrendous stench filled my nostrils and I lost what composure I had as I realised what this was. I screamed and screamed and screamed. The thing drifted towards me until it touched the edge of my boots. It took me every ounce of strength I possessed not to collapse in a dead faint and pitch down into the water with it.
    ‘Euphemia! Euphemia! Stay where you are!’ cried Bertram’s voice, far way in the darkness. ‘I’ve got Old Ben with me. We’re coming to find you. Don’t move.’
    I used the last of my will to stay still until I saw Bertram emerge from the mist. Now his face only expressed concern and fear. I sank gratefully into his arms.

VIII
    It turned out there had been quite a few people out that night. The light from the fires and the smoke pouring out of White Orchards had been spotted in the village and young and old had turned out to rescue us, believing the house was once more on fire.
    Of course, it wasn’t. We didn’t even suffer a scorched rug. Bertram had a sore head from the brandy and the candlestick and very little recollection of what had happened. Richenda had regained full consciousness. She said it was not as bad as being thrown from a horse. We decided not to tell Bertram what he had said and done. We simply insisted that the body that had floated up before me was buried that very day in what remained of the Hadwell family plot. It cost Mr Bertram a lot of money to convince his people to do it, but Richenda and I would brook no argument. We even insisted the local priest was sent for.
    Later, when we had woken a sleepy Sam and set him to redecorating the house before any of the guests awoke, we gathered in the breakfast room. I had brought tea from the kitchen and Richenda had raided the cake cupboard. We settled down for our strange breakfast. I, for one, found I was ravenous.
    ‘But who the hell is she?’ Bertram demanded.
    ‘Lady Belinda,’ said Richenda.
    ‘She never did leave him,’ I said. ‘She went out onto the Fens for a walk to clear her head after the two men argued over her, and stumbled into the marshes.’
    ‘How do you know she wasn’t leaving him?’ asked Richenda.
    ‘No