She glared at the man shuffling in the doorway. ‘What are you waiting for? Go at once! Master Gerald will accompany you, so that he can report back to me on his return,’ she snapped, her nerves jangling.

‘But, Mother!’ said Gerald fractiously. ‘There’s no reason for me to go. He’s perfectly capable of handling this by himself.’

‘Don’t quibble! Do as I say,’ commanded Adele.

Seeing the obdurate look in his mother’s eyes, Gerald shrugged and said, ‘Let’s get on with it then, man.’ They left together, Gerald in a high dudgeon.

Adele sat down and stared into the fire. Although she was oddly oblivious to the suffering of people, paradoxically the thought of an animal injured and in pain always moved her.

Emma brought her the water. ‘They’ll do as yer’ve told them,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry so, Mrs Fairley.’

‘Shall I assist you upstairs, Mother?’ Edwin suggested. ‘You should rest for a while, before dressing for dinner.’

‘Yes, Edwin, that is a good idea,’ said Adele thankfully. She was drained. Dealing with Gerald had taken its toll and vitiated her energy. The impending evening would be a further strain, and she wanted to gather her diminishing strength in readiness for it. At this moment she fervently wished she could retreat to her comfortable enveloping bed with a bottle and lose herself in her inner world. She stood up abruptly and Edwin took her arm and led her out of the library.

They mounted the stairs slowly and Emma followed dutifully behind. As Edwin shepherded his mother into the bedroom with great gentleness, Emma caught Edwin’s attention and motioned for him to follow her. He excused himself to his mother and hurried after Emma, who was waiting in the sitting room.

‘What is it, Emma?’ he asked with misgiving, conscious of the worried expression on her face.

‘Don’t leave yer mother alone, Master Edwin,’ Emma cautioned softly. ‘Can yer stop a bit and read ter her, or chat with her, till I changes me uniform and comes back ter help her get ready?’

‘Why, of course I can, Emma. But wouldn’t it be wiser if she slept for a while?’ he asked. ‘Why shouldn’t she be left alone?’

‘Because she frets about things and she’s ever so nervous about this blinking dinner party. And I knows she won’t sleep ’cos she had a long rest this afternoon. Just sit with her and keep her company. Help ter get her mind off the dinner. I’ll be back in a tick, ter start doing her hair,’ said Emma.

Edwin nodded in agreement. ‘Yes, you are quite correct, Emma. She does worry and easily becomes distracted.’ He reached out impulsively and touched Emma’s arm lightly. ‘Thank you so much, Emma, for taking care of my mother with such kindness. I do appreciate it, really and truly I do,’ he said with warm sincerity, his eyes soft and gentle.

Emma looked up at Edwin, who was tall for his age, surprised but delighted at this show of gratitude. ‘That’s ever so nice of yer ter say that, Master Edwin. I do me best, yer knows,’ she answered sweetly, glowing with genuine pleasure. And then she smiled. It was the most dazzling of smiles, one that illuminated her face with such radiance it actually appeared to shimmer in the dying afternoon light, and her eyes, widely open and tilted upward, were so spectacularly green and brilliant they were breathtaking.

Why, she’s beautiful, Edwin thought, momentarily staggered and blinded by her radiance and that beguiling smile and those incredible emerald eyes full of vivid intelligence, honesty, and innocence that gazed at him unwaveringly and with perfect trust. How odd that I never noticed her beauty before, he thought in wonderment, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. Imperceptibly, Edwin’s young heart shifted and tightened and he was besieged by an overpowering emotion, one he had not previously ever felt and which he did not understand. They continued to gaze at each other, as if mesmerized, locked in a prolonged moment of silence so intense the air seemed to vibrate around them, and they were like two figures isolated and petrified by time. Edwin’s naked face was bleached, the bones stark and pronounced. His limpid eyes were registering every plane and angle and smooth contour of that face before him, as if he felt compelled to commit it to memory for eyer. A light flush began to permeate Emma’s neck and cheeks, and her pale pink lips parted slightly. She was puzzled by that strained and staring look in Edwin’s eyes and concern flooded her face, extinguishing the radiance. It was then that Edwin recognized obtusely, just below the level of his conscious, that something of tremendous importance had happened to him, although he was not sure what this was. He did not comprehend, in his youthfulness, that he was now beholding the only woman he would ever truly love. The woman who would tragically haunt him for all the days of his life, and whose name he would cry out, and with yearning, as he drew his last breath.

Quite unexpectedly tears pricked the back of Edwin’s eyes and he was forced to turn his head. He swallowed hard, coughing behind his hand with embarrassment, humbled and oddly shy in front of this girl who had wrought such sudden upheaval within him. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, coughing again, hardly daring to look at her, but he could not resist and his eyes swept back to hers. Emma smiled gently and with kindness, and her face was so exquisite, so fragile, so tender, Edwin had to curb the strongest impulse to reach out and take it between his hands and touch it reverently. Eventually he managed to say in a strangled voice, ‘You are a fine girl, Emma. And I will stay with Mother, as you suggest, until you can come back.’

He turned on his heel and went towards the bedroom. As he crossed the floor, with that easy gracefulness inherited from his father, he experienced a peculiar sense of loss, a sensation of such profound loneliness it overwhelmed him and brought him to a standstill. Shaken, he swung around with involuntary force and Emma was startled. He stared at her with great intensity and his eyes were questioning and perplexed. Emma studied him gravely, and with a new understanding remarkably mature in its perception. She smiled faintly, and before he could say anything else she hastened out of the room with the tea tray, the dishes rattling noisily.

Miraculously, the hubbub in the kitchen had abated, and although Mrs Turner was flushed and perspiring, she seemed less irritable and anxious about the dinner. She was presiding over the steaming pots and pans with a certain bombastic pride, a self-congratulatory smile on her plum-coloured face, the ladle hooked on to her apron pocket, her hands on her hips.

Emma placed the tray near the sink and said, ‘If yer don’t need me for owt, Mrs Turner, I think I’d best go and get ready for tonight.’

‘Aye, luv, yer had, and right sharpish,’ responded Cook, looking at the clock on the mantel. ‘Everything’s under control here. It’s plain sailing from now on, I’d say.’ She bestowed a complacent smile on Emma. ‘There’s nowt much ter them there fancy recipes, once yer get the hang of ’em,’ she continued in a satisfied tone. ‘Next time we have a big dinner, I’ll be able ter do ’em with me eyes closed!’

Annie, who was polishing a large silver meat dish in the corner, looked up and grinned. She winked at Emma, who turned away, bit back an amused smile, and said, ‘I’m sure yer will, Mrs Turner. I’ll see yer later.’

Emma climbed the steep and twisting narrow stairs that led to her room in the attic. She shivered as she entered it. The window was wide open, and the blue curtains were billowing out wildly in the cool evening breeze from the moors. Emma ran to the window and closed it, and then quickly undressed. She stood at the washstand in front of the small leaded window and scrubbed her face with cold water and a flannel until it shone with rosy freshness. She brushed out her long hair, deftly twisted it into a thick bun, and then put on the evening uniform she had recently made. This was a black wool dress with long tight sleeves and a long straight skirt, and it was considerably more severe than her daytime uniform. But a white silk collar and cuffs relieved the starkness of the black, as did the frilled organdie apron she now tied around her slender waist.