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He drew back and looked at her searchingly. “You’re sure? You don’t look yourself.”

She shook her head and he frowned. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he said narrowing his eyes. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

But all Lizzie would do was shake her head. After a moment, she heard him move away. When he returned, he did so with a pan of water which he set over the fire before fetching more wood for the fire.

Lizzie supposed she should go and fetch the tea things, but for some reason she remained huddled where she was, her eyes trained on the fire.

“Is it your woman’s time?” he asked in a low voice as he threw logs on the fire.

This startled Lizzie out of her torpor. “No!”

“Is this about Banbury, then?” he persisted.

Banbury? Lizzie gazed at him blankly a moment before remembering this particular bone of contention. “Nothing is wrong!” she lied and made as though to stand. “I’ll fetch the teapot.”

“I’ll get it.”

It was while Benedict was brewing up that Sebastian bounded up and started barking. He stopped as soon as he saw Jack appear around the side of the wagon.

“They’ve gone, upped sticks and left!” Jack announced. “Ma and Daphne both. Took both the wagon and the brown mare.”

For a moment, Benedict’s gaze met her wordlessly over the fire, and she remembered that he already knew about Ma leaving the previous day for Shropshire. Silently, Lizzie cursed the fact she had blabbed to him about that. However, when he spoke, it was only to offer Jack a cup of tea in the blandest of voices.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” his youngest brother remonstrated, dropping down onto a convenient seat.

“I did,” Benedict admitted as he spooned sugar into a cup. “Daphne was at the boxing tent earlier,” he pointed out slowly.

“She was,” Jack agreed. “But I never saw her after five and that much I’ll swear.”

When Benedict squeezed the last of a lemon into her cup and held it out to her, Lizzie roused herself to speech. “When was the last time you saw your grandmother?” she asked, accepting the cup and avoiding Benedict’s eye.

Jack rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t like to say for sure,” he admitted. “I saw her yesterday alright, but I couldn’t swear I even clapped eyes on her today.”

Benedict grunted. “You got any notion why they’d take themselves off?”

“None,” Jack said. “I wanted to ask the same of you.”

“It’s nothing to do with us,” Benedict said coolly. “Ask Frank.” Then something seemed to catch his eye for he tensed up and stepped around the fire, whipping away Lizzie’s blanket and dragging her to feet. “What’s this?” he asked sharply, tilting her head and looking fully into her face. “Someone’s struck you!”

Sebastian gave a warning growl, and Lizzie spoke to him sharply. “Sebastian!” He lowered his head to his paws and lay back down.

Jack gave a low whistle. “That’s going to be quite the shiner tomorrow, Lizzie my girl.”

“Don’t call her that, she’s not your girl!” Benedict snapped making his brother chuckle. “And it’s no joking matter.” He turned back to Lizzie. “When did this happen? In Connie’s tent? Some customer got rough with you?” His face grew grim. “You should have fetched me if there was any trouble. I want the name of the bastard that hit you.”

“It wasn’t there. You’ve got it all wrong,” Lizzie said struggling to free herself from his grip.

“Tell me how, then?”

“Benedict … ” Jack started but halted when his brother swung around to look at him.

“Do something useful, can’t you?” Benedict bit out. “Go and buy me a raw steak.”

“What about Ma and Daphne – ” Jack began, but again did not get to finish for his brother had skewered him with a furious glance. “Alright, alright,” he said, raising his hands and backing away. “I’ll leave you to tend the wounded.”