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Fletcher shrugged and turned away. ‘I got no time for her or that sister of hers. You wouldn’t have been so generous to her when I first knew you.’
‘I’ve grown more tolerant since then, Fletcher. I don’t want to hear any more about it. Will you tell Robbins to harness the horse and bring the trap round?’
‘You ain’t thinking of driving yourself?’
‘It’s not far, Fletcher. I’m perfectly capable of handling the reins.’
Fletcher sniffed. ‘I’ll drive you. Mr Leo wouldn’t like it if you was seen driving yourself.’ She marched out of the room.
‘She really thinks she’s in charge,’ Nancy said, laughing.
‘And I let her. If it keeps Fletcher happy it’s worth the irritation it causes. She is worth her weight in gold when it comes to dealing with difficult customers at the mill if Leo isn’t there.’
‘I really admire Leo. I should think he can handle anyone and anything.’
Patricia smiled. ‘You missed all the excitement when Leo rescued Tommy from that awful man Ewart Blaise. I think Ewart was mad enough to torture Tommy in order to get his hands on the deeds to Rockwood Castle.’
‘I know. Tommy has told me about it in detail. I think you were all very brave.’
Patricia stood in front of a wall mirror to straighten her bonnet and tie the ribbons. ‘Ewart will spend the rest of his life in an Australian penal colony. We won’t be seeing him again.’
Nancy sighed. ‘Tommy will be home from school in a day or two, and then he’ll be off to university and I won’t see him if I’m in London. Although last summer he spent all his time with the boys from the village. He didn’t want to know me then.’
‘That was a year ago and he was at an awkward age, but you’ll be best friends again, I’m sure.’
Fletcher stuck her head round the door. ‘Are you coming? Or are you going to spend all day gossiping?’
Patricia drew herself up to her full height. ‘One day you will go too far, Cora Fletcher. Don’t assume that you can get away with bad manners just because we allow you some leeway.’
Fletcher raised her skirts to expose a pair of skinny legs ending in men’s boots as she executed a clumsy curtsey. ‘Sorry, my lady. I forgets meself sometimes.’
Nancy giggled and Patricia’s lips quivered, despite her attempt at a severe look. ‘You can stay here for that, Fletcher. I will take the reins. Come, Nancy. We’ll leave Fletcher to consider her future.’ Patricia swept out of the room, and left the house with Nancy following her.
Leo Wilder strolled out of the mill just as Patricia was about to climb onto the driver’s seat of the trap. Nancy met his friendly grin with a smile. Leo had always been her favourite, even if he did look like a corsair with a gold earring in one ear. With his rugged good looks and tanned complexion he looked his best in casual clothes, but he was an attractive man no matter whether he wore his customary open-neck shirt and leather waistcoat, or the more formal clothes he chose when visiting the castle. Leo was someone to be looked up to and admired.
‘Where’s Fletcher?’ Leo asked bluntly. ‘I thought she was going to drive you to Greystone Park?’
Patricia tossed her head. ‘She was, but I left her behind because she was being objectionable. She will have to go if she can’t mend her ways, Leo.’
He lifted his wife onto the seat. ‘I’ll give her a good talking-to. She can work in the mill for now if she’s being difficult.’ He helped Nancy onto the seat beside Patricia. ‘When are you off to London, Nancy?’
‘In a day or so. Hester and Rosie are forever arguing about what I should take with me, and which servant should accompany me.’
‘That sounds like Hester,’ Leo said, grinning. ‘She likes to have the last word.’
Chapter Two
Sylvia looked thin and fragile, but her eyes shone with vitality and her cheeks were pink, as if she was in the best of health. It was a deceptive look and Nancy was well aware that Sylvia Greystone was very ill indeed. Her aunt and uncle, Mr and Mrs Pennington, were dressed for travelling, and the servants bustled about, carrying bandboxes, trunks and valises down to the entrance hall to load onto the waiting carter’s wagon, ready for the start of the journey to Switzerland.
Mr Pennington, an earnest middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion and a kindly smile, greeted Patricia warmly and extended his welcome to Nancy.
‘I don’t think we’ve met, but you remind me of someone.’
Nancy bobbed a curtsey. ‘I’m Nancy Sunday, sir.’
‘Are you related to the Careys, Miss Sunday?’
‘No, sir. I was in service as a child. Mrs Blanchard felt sorry for me and she took me in.’
