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‘At least I will know why this time,’ said Mary.

‘I could not reach you before I left.’

‘You did not wish to, Nick.’

‘I was too ashamed.’

‘But I loved you.’

‘It was not enough. I could not saddle you with that burden. It would have been unfair to you. I had to get away from him. You must understand that.’

‘What did your father do?’

It was a question she had a right to ask and he could not hold out on her any longer. Mary Whetcombe had suffered the consequences of a secret he dared not tell her, and she deserved to know the truth. At the same time, he wanted confirmation that Lucy was his daughter. Mary threw a glance at the girl and looked back at him. In the household of a merchant, his widow was offering a bargain before a mute witness. If Nicholas told her about the last night they had spent together, she would confide in him.

‘I wanted you, Mary,’ he said. ‘I wanted you more than anything in the world, but my father chose Katherine Hurrell for me. It was all arranged with her family. The dowry was large and my father needed a share of it to steady his own business. You were my choice but your dowry was smaller and your father was set on a marriage into the Whetcombe family. It was an impossible situation.’

‘There was only one way to break out of it.’

‘I tried hard to persuade my father.’

‘I know,’ she recalled. ‘You went home that night to make a final plea to him. If it failed, we were to run away sooner than be parted. But you never came back for me.’ Her eyes accused him. ‘What happened when you went home?’

‘I did not go home, Mary.’

‘Then where did you go?’

‘To Katherine Hurrell’s house.’

‘But why?’ she said, indignantly. ‘You had no cause.’

‘We were betrothed. She had a right to be told. I loved you but I could not walk away from Katherine without at least a word of explanation.’

‘You gave me no word of explanation.’

‘There was no time.’

‘You found time enough for Katherine Hurrell!’

‘Mary, please — listen!’ Nicholas tried to remain calm. ‘This is difficult enough for me. Be patient.’

‘All right. So you went to her …’

‘Yes.’

‘And stayed the night there, is that what I am to hear?’

‘No.’

‘Tell me the truth,’ said Mary, trembling with a jealousy that had had many years to build. ‘Tell me, Nick!’

‘Katherine was not at the house,’ he said. ‘Nor was her father. The place was almost empty.’ Nicholas shivered as he relived the memory. ‘I picked my way around to the garden at the rear. The window of Katherine’s bedchamber was at the end. I hoped to attract her attention and draw her out so that we could speak in private. There was no answer to my whistle. I did not wish to throw stones up at her window in case the noise woke anyone else who might be in the house.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘I climbed up the ivy to look into her room.’

‘And?’

‘She was not there.’

‘Well?’ pressed Mary. ‘What, then?’

‘I saw them in bed together.’

‘Who?’

‘Katherine’s mother and …’

‘Go on.’

‘My father,’ said Nicholas. ‘Robert Bracewell. He was making love to Margaret Hurrell.’ Nicholas looked up at her with his bitterness refreshed. ‘That was why I was to marry Katherine — to enable my father the more easily to carry on his adultery with her mother. I was not a son being sent off happily to the altar. I was just a factor in a corrupt bargain. It destroyed me.’ He winced visibly. ‘My mother knew, Mary. That’s what killed her. She knew all the time but had no power to stop him. My mother knew but said nothing. She simply curled up in horror and died.’

‘What did you do when you saw them together?’

‘I ran away,’ he said, simply. ‘All I could think about was getting away from that place and those two people. I looked up to my father. He was a difficult man to love but I had always admired the way he overcame his setbacks. But that night I lost all respect for him and for his values. I wanted nothing to do with Barnstaple and its merchants. My one urge was to take to my heels.’

‘Did you not spare a thought for me?’

‘Of course, Mary. I did not want to drag you into it. After what I had seen, I felt tainted and did not wish to pass on that taint to you. I believed that if I ran away, I might be able to save you.’

‘Save me!’ she said with irony. ‘From what?’

‘From taking on the name of Bracewell. From suffering the same sense of shame. From enduring our disgrace.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘I was young, Mary. I felt such things deeply. I could not ask you to come into such a family.’

‘So what did you think would happen to me?’

‘That you would find someone else and forget me.’

‘Oh, I found somebody else,’ she said. ‘And I was lucky to do so in the circumstances. But I did not forget you. How could I? We were lovers.’

Nicholas glanced down at Lucy then back at Mary.

‘Is she my daughter?’ he asked.

‘No, Nick.’

‘My father said that she was.’

‘He could not have done so.’

‘But he did, Mary. In so many words.’

‘What exactly did he say?’

‘I asked him why he visited your house so often.’

‘And he told you it was to visit his granddaughter.’

‘Yes — Lucy.’

‘No,’ said Mary. ‘Susan Deakin.’

‘The servant girl?’

‘She was our daughter, Nick.’

He was completely dumbfounded. The plain girl with the features that enabled her to pass for a boy had been his daughter. He could not believe it at first and yet he now saw, in his heart, that he must have had a faint glimmer of recognition. Susan Deakin had prompted such a compelling sense of revenge in him, a personal commitment such as a man could never feel for a stranger from a distant household. That was what had driven him on. It was not just the desire to get to Barnstaple to help the woman he thought had sent for him. Nicholas had also been seeking atonement for the murder of his own daughter.

He looked across to Mary for enlightenment.

‘The last night we met,’ she explained, ‘I had been carrying your child for some months.’

‘Why did you not tell me?’

‘I tried, Nick, but I could not find the words. I hoped that your father would relent and that we could marry with his blessing. All would be well then. But you left and I was stranded.’ She bristled like a hunted animal. ‘I had nowhere to go and no chance of hiding my condition for long. What life would I have as an unmarried mother with a bastard child? You had one kind of shame, I would have carried another.’ She shook her head in despair. ‘I did the only thing that was left to me. I turned to Matthew Whetcombe.’

‘You told him the truth?’

‘Yes, Nick. Matthew was a hard man but he knew what he wanted. I was to be his wife on any terms. We struck a bargain and I accepted it gratefully. I was confined and everyone was told that I was visiting friends in Crediton.’ She shuddered. ‘Susan came into the world too soon and almost died. She needed constant attention. Joan Deakin had been my own nurse. She took Susan for her own. That is the name you will find in the church register. Susan Deakin.’

‘Then you got married?’

‘As soon as I was strong enough.’

‘And Lucy?’

‘She came along very quickly.’ A defensive note came in. ‘I had to give Matthew that. He was prepared to let my brat live under his roof but only if he could have children of his own. That was the contract and he enforced it. But Lucy was the first and last.’

‘Why?’

‘There were complications. I could bear no more. My husband could never forgive me for that. He had accepted Susan and all I could give him in return was this wounded little creature here. Matthew felt cheated. Your child was fit and healthy while his was a deaf-mute.’