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to do with her sister.”
    â€œWe’d best be off, me darlings, if we are to be back by teatime.”
    Sally seemed reluctant to move.
    â€œNow, come on, Sally - there’s a good girl.”
    With a flick of the reins we slowly moved forward, waving goodbye to the Sheppards, who faded into the distance. Sally seemed to know her way home. Mr Pegington fell fast asleep, but he was woken with a jolt when we went over uneven ground.
    â€œToo much rum, me darlings, too much rum. You’re very quiet, me lad.”
    â€œMr Pegington, did you know Annie at Thornhall Manor? She worked in the kitchen.”
    â€œAnnie? I knew her very well. I took a shine to her, me lad.”
    â€œWhat was her second name, Mr Pegington?”
    â€œAnnie Potter. That’s it - Annie Potter.”
    A long silence followed. The children looked at each other. It was their Annie.
    â€œMr Pegington, why did she leave the manor?”
    â€œNow, that’s not for me to say, me lad.”
    We continued our journey back to Rose Cottage, again passing Thornhall Manor.

Chapter Ten
    STANSBY HALL, TWENTY YEARS EARLIER
    Mr Wheller, standing in front of a large open fire, was gazing at a large portrait of Sir William Nesbit.
    â€œI don’t believe it. It can’t be true. When did this occur, James?”
    â€œTwo days after you left on your business trip, sir.”
    â€œCan nothing be done, James?”
    â€œI’m afraid it’s too late. Sentence has been passed and carried out.”
    Enter Lady Nesbit, now married to Mr Vincent Wheller.
    â€œYour precious son’s at the back of this.”
    â€œYou can’t blame this on him.”
    â€œThey found the jewellery on them.”
    â€œOne earring. What happened to the rest of your jewels?”
    â€œThey must have sold them.”
    â€œI’ll get to the bottom of this. Why don’t you leave well alone?”
    â€œBecause I’ve known Mr Bradley and his wife Betty for over twenty years. A good and honest couple, incapable of what they have been accused of.” Lady Nesbit turned and stormed out of the room, little realising that her beloved son, Peter, was listening at the door.
    â€œJames, I’ll leave it with you. Find out all you can and report back to me.”
    â€œAnother brandy, sir?”
    â€œThank you, James. My stepson, Peter, will be the death of me one day.”
    How true these words were to be!

Chapter Eleven
    AT THE INN
    â€œAnother pint of your excellent beer, landlord, and pull one for yourself.”
    â€œWe don’t see you in here very often, sir. And may I ask how is Mr Wheller? In good health, I hope. A gentleman if there ever was one. Can’t say the same for that stepson of his.”
    â€œWell, actually, that’s why I’m here. I’m trying to find out more about William and Betty Bradley. Mr Wheller suspects Peter, his stepson, could be involved in some way.”
    â€œHe’s nothing but trouble, that one. Comes in here with his fancy talk. I can always tell when he’s had enough: he taps the side of his leg with his riding whip. I’m glad to see the back of him, but Mary-Ann is infatuated with him. She’s the one you should talk to. Sit you yonder there, sir,” he said, pointing to a dark corner of the inn.
    After a few moments a buxom-looking wench approached.
    â€œYou wish to see me, sir?”

Chapter Twelve
    MARY-ANN AND PETER AT THE UNKNOWN HOTEL
    â€œI never told him anything.”
    â€œThe jewels - did he say anything about the jewels?”
    â€œDon’t do that, you frighten me.”
    He stopped pacing up and down and stopped slashing the whip against his leg, his angry look fading from his face.
    A silence followed, then: “Mary-Ann, pack a few things. Not a word to anyone. We’ll go to Paris and I’ll make an honest woman of you.”
    Mrs Peter Nesbit! Her wildest dream seemed to be coming true.
    â€œNow, leave