A Mother's Betrayal by Emma Hornby

Author:Emma Hornby [Hornby, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473591271
Publisher: Transworld
Published: 2021-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

‘HELLO, CUTHBERT.’ SITTING on her haunches, Mara gave the dog a vigorous stroke. Lapping up the attention, tail wagging furiously, he threw himself at her, knocking her on to her back in the grasses, where he proceeded to lick her face to within an inch of its life – chuckling, she rolled away from him and jumped to her feet. ‘Scoundrel, you! Where’s Meg, hm? Let’s find her, shall we? Come on. Good boy.’

Despite their less than agreeable first encounter, she and Cuthbert had since formed a mutually pleasing bond. He’d await her arrival each day by the trees, and on spotting her would bound across to sprawl at her feet for a belly rub, whilst she waited out Meg’s arrival. The routine was something Mara looked forward to the moment she awakened in the mornings; she couldn’t imagine her days without Cresslea in them, now.

Today, Meg was already seated outside the kitchen’s door and ready to greet Mara with a warm smile. ‘All reet, love?’

‘Aye, you?’

‘Oh, you know, can’t complain. Sit thee down,’ she instructed, ‘and I’ll fetch us a sup.’

Mara waited until her friend had returned with two steaming cups of strong tea to ask quietly, ‘Meg, lass, are you sure this is right?’

‘What?’

‘Handing out brews to all and sundry. It’s been playing on my mind … it feels like stealing, somehow. It’s the master’s tea, after all.’

Meg’s tinkling laughter floated around the courtyard. ‘Number one, I don’t hand out brews to all and sundry. Only to you, and you’re my friend. Two, it’s hardly theft. Anyroad, even if it were, the master and his mother ain’t likely to miss a few measly tea leaves. And three, this here’s from the servants’ own supply what the master provides us with for our personal use. So no more fretting, all right?’

‘Sure, when you put it like that … I suppose so.’

‘Good! Now, drink up afore it grows cold,’ Meg told her with a wink.

Shaking her head and smiling, Mara did as she’d been bid.

Mellow and melodic birdsong rang on the balmy afternoon air and, as the women sipped their drinks in companiable silence, they tilted their heads skywards to watch the blue and great tits and common blackbirds hopping among the leafy boughs. After some minutes, a figure appeared over the crest of the hill in the distance – Roger.

Having spotted him first through the overhanging branches, Mara’s eyes widened and she watched his advance without making mention of it to the other woman. Why, she couldn’t be sure. Perhaps it was that she was aware that Meg would have called hello to him, and that for as long as was possible she wished to delay that. Yes, maybe that was indeed it. Because for reasons she was unable to identify, she knew an odd sense of pleasure in observing him alone in his natural form.

His step broad and sure, back straight and toned arms swinging steadily by his sides, he exuded ease and belonging with the solitary land.

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