Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter. Sylvia Andrew

I rolled down the slope. It was steeper than I had thought.’

      ‘You could have been killed! I shall certainly have something to say to Philip when he comes back. I asked him to go when the carriage arrived back without you, but he said you’d be perfectly safe walking home. He really should have gone to look for you,’

      Emily gave a weak smile and tried not to show how profoundly grateful she was that her brother had refused. What he would have said, or done, if he had discovered her in that hollow, lying in the arms of a perfect stranger in an intimate embrace, was too awful to imagine.

      ‘But where was Will?’

      ‘Who?’

      Rosa looked puzzled. ‘Will Darby.’

      Emily, who had been thinking of quite a different Will, tried to speak naturally as she responded, ‘Will Darby… Oh, yes, of course.’

      ‘He must have been on his way home about that time. Didn’t you see him?’

      ‘’Er…no. I didn’t,’ said Emily, avoiding her sister-in-law’s eye. She could feel her cheeks getting hot.

      There was a slight pause, after which Rosa said, ‘You must be tired. I think you should have a rest now. Are you hungry? I’ll have some soup or something easy to eat sent up.’ Bending over to kiss Emily goodnight, she said softly, ‘A night’s sleep will work miracles. We’ll see you in the morning.’

      Emily lay awake for some time after Rosa and the maid had gone. She was still bewildered by what had happened that afternoon. Will—Will the stranger—had called her an enchantress, but judging by the effect he had had on her, it was far more likely that he was the sorcerer. She grew warm as she remembered how she had behaved. Wantonly. Shamelessly. Other words came to mind to torment her. But when she finally fell asleep, her last thoughts were oddly comforting—a stranger’s arms protecting her as they rolled down the slope, a strong body holding her so close, laughter in a man’s eyes as he held her and kissed…her…so… sweetly… And her dreams that night were surprisingly pleasant.

      The next morning Emily got up, determined to put her encounter with the stranger and her own inexplicable reactions behind her. She nodded reassuringly when Rosa raised her brows in a silent question as she entered the breakfast room, and held up hands now free of bandages. Philip had apparently been told an edited version of her arrival the night before. He asked about her injuries and she assured him they were all purely superficial. He frowned when she told him of her visit to Mrs Gosworth, then said, ‘I can’t understand what possessed you to go through that field.’

      ‘Philip, I can’t tell you. I don’t know! I agree it was madness, and that I was luckier than I deserved.’

      ‘Perhaps I should have a word with Pritchard.’

      ‘Please don’t. I’m sure the field is perfectly secure. No one else in the village would be so stupid!’

      They talked of other things for a while, but then Philip asked, ‘By the way, did you happen to see any strangers on your way back? They were saying down in the stables that some fellow or other was wandering about round here yesterday. From what they told me, he arrived halfway through the morning, left his horse at the inn in the village and went for a walk. Odd sort of thing to do, wouldn’t you say? Did you catch sight of him, Emmy?’

      Emily’s cheeks grew warm, and were even warmer as she felt Rosa’s eyes on her. She replied with commendable calm, ‘No, I don’t think I did. Did he…did he go back to the inn?’

      ‘Yes, but quite late. He claimed to have lost his way. But he must have come back along the stream about the time you were there.’

      ‘Is he…is he still at the inn?’

      ‘I don’t know! I haven’t seen Will Darby this morning. Why are you asking? There’s no reason to be afraid. They all thought he looked like a gentleman. I don’t think he’s dangerous.’

      Now that is entirely a matter of opinion! thought Emily with a wry smile, hastily straightening her face when she saw Rosa looking at her again.

      Philip went on to talk of other matters, and the stranger was not mentioned again. Emily hoped he was forgotten. But afterwards Rosa looked Emily in the eye and said firmly, ‘It’s a lovely morning. Do you feel well enough for a walk in the garden? Or shall we sit in the small parlour? There are just the two of us here this morning. Philip has to go over to Temperley.’

      Philip said, surprised, ‘Aren’t you coming with me to see your father?’

      ‘Not this morning, my love. It’s a business call, and you’ll do much better without me. No, Emily and I are going to have a comfortable chat in the garden. Aren’t we, dear?’

      ‘I thought I might go…’

      ‘You mustn’t disappoint me, Emily,’ said Rosa, with smiling determination.

      Rosa was the sweetest, gentlest girl imaginable, thought Emily, except when she’s looking as she does at the moment. She gave up. ‘No. I see that I mustn’t. Very well. The garden it is. I should like a walk.’

      ‘And a talk, I hope,’ said Rosa with another charming smile.

      It was a beautifully sunny day and the two ladies, wearing wide brimmed hats and carrying parasols, went out into the garden. They walked for a while, and then sat down in the shade. Emily looked around her. She had helped Philip so much here when he had first inherited Shearings. Their Great-Uncle Joseph’s chief interest had been in new methods of farming, and Shearings’s gardens had lain neglected. She and Philip had worked so hard that first year to create this haven of flower beds and shaded walks, arbours and fountains. Emily sighed. She was genuinely happy that Philip had found Rosa. They were ideally suited. But it was sometimes difficult not to be nostalgic about the past.

      Rosa snapped her parasol shut and turned to Emily, who saw the militant look in her sister-in-law’s eye and braced herself.

      ‘Now!’ she said. ‘Now you can tell me just what happened yesterday, if you please.’

      ‘I…I’ve told you.’

      ‘So you did. And I believed you. But that was before I heard about a stranger. A gentlemanly stranger.’

      ‘What…what has he to do with me?’

      ‘That is what you are going to tell me, Emily dear. I know you. You’re a bad liar. And I have a strong suspicion that you not only saw this “gentlemanly stranger” yesterday, but probably talked to him, too. Is that what made you so late?’ She stopped and looked closely at Emily. ‘Dear heaven, I hadn’t thought… He didn’t attack you, did he? Is he the cause of those bruises and scratches? Tell me, Emily, don’t be afraid.’

      ‘No, no! You’re quite wrong. I told you the truth about those. I got them when I climbed the tree. Most of them.’

      ‘And the rest?’ Rosa’s lovely face was unusually stern.

      Emily heard the determination and realised that she was not going to get away with less than the truth.

      ‘You see too much, Rosa. I should have known you’d guess. Very well. I climbed up the tree as I told you and saw that I couldn’t get down. That was true. But you’re quite right. I didn’t tell you everything.’

      ‘Which was…?’

      ‘It seemed like hours before I saw someone coming, and when I did I took it to be Will Darby. I knew he would pass by on his way home so I called out to him and he came over. But…but it wasn’t Will Darby, after all.’

      ‘I knew it! It was this stranger,’ Rosa said.

      Emily nodded. ‘He agreed to catch me if I jumped, but the branch broke, and we fell and rolled down the slope. That was when I got the rest of the scratches.’

      ‘Was he hurt?’

      ‘I…I