Rescued By The Forbidden Rake. Mary Brendan
Edward shook his head sending his sandy fringe flopping into his eyes. ‘Honest...ain’t seen ’em, Miss Shawcross. Peggy went out this morning to do chores for Mrs Bullman like she always do every day. Ain’t seen her since. And ain’t clapped eyes on Miss Claire since the fair. I’ve been helping Pa indoors ’cos his knees are bad.’ He jerked his head towards the wonky open doorway that led into the cottage. A girl of about seven was stationed there, sucking a thumb.
Faye knew that the butcher’s wife paid Peggy to help out in the shop in the mornings. But it was possible Peggy had met Claire later on.
‘I know about the gypsy boy you were going to punch because he was making eyes at Peggy,’ Faye said quietly. She didn’t want members of Edward’s family overhearing her, but Edward had to tell her more about what had been going on between the Miller children and the gypsies. Since her sister had got embroiled in it, it affected her, too.
Edward blushed and fidgeted. ‘His pal was after Miss Claire,’ he rattled off. ‘I reckon you should thank me for scaring ’em off, Miss Shawcross.’
Faye believed he was telling the truth and in an instant she felt her niggling anxiety over her sister’s whereabouts explode. Claire might have a more personal involvement with the gypsy boys than she’d imagined. Quickly Faye banished that awful thought from her head. Claire could be silly, but she’d never play such a dangerous game.
‘Do you want me to go and find them?’ Edward meekly offered.
‘I expect my sister has already gone home. It’s supper time soon.’ The tone of the youth’s voice indicated that he, too, suspected an upset might be brewing. Faye climbed aboard the trap, her heart feeling leaden. From a corner of her eye she saw Edward resume scything. She hoped he had not put too much store on her questions. If a rumour spread about Claire Shawcross and a gypsy boy, her sister’s reputation would suffer. With Claire’s come out in the offing they couldn’t risk a breath of scandal spoiling their plans.
Faye forgot about visiting Anne Holly and turned the trap to head home. She slowed down by the butcher’s shop, but the shutters were already closed for the day. It was midsummer and still sunny, but she guessed the time to be gone six o’clock. At the back of her mind whirred a fervent prayer that her worry was unfounded and her sister was already at Mulberry House. Yet...she feared Claire was not.
With a gasp of relief Faye glimpsed the unmistakable sight of Peggy’s bushy auburn tresses bobbing along further along the street. Faye pulled Daisy to a halt, then jumped down and hurried towards her.
‘Is Claire in the shop?’ Faye tilted her head to see past a few customers congregated in the doorway of the confectionery shop. The merchant kept his premises open quite late in the summer months to sell to those playing games on the village green.
‘Haven’t seen your sister, Miss Shawcross,’ Peggy said, edging away.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Faye lowered her voice to demand, ‘Have you and Claire been meeting some gypsy lads on the sly?’
‘Don’t tell me pa, will you, Miss Shawcross?’ Peggy whimpered. ‘He’ll take the stick to me back.’ She dodged past, running towards her home.
Faye was no mean sprinter and quickly caught up with her; grasping her elbow, she whipped the girl around. ‘You had better tell me where Claire is, or I’ll come home with you now and you can tell your father and me everything that has gone on.’
‘We went to the fairground earlier. I came back, but Claire stayed with Donagh because they’re packing up to travel on and she wanted to say goodbye.’
‘Donagh?’ Faye echoed with subdued alarm.
‘Donagh Lee is the chief’s son. He’s keen on Claire...’
‘Is she keen on him?’ Faye whispered, her mind jumbling with all sorts of imagined disasters.
Peggy nodded. ‘I told her to come back with me or she’d get in to trouble. But she said she’d stay just a few more minutes, then head home. They were by the copse where the ponies are tied up.’
‘Thank you, Peggy.’ Faye could feel the prickle of shocked, angry tears as she hurried back to the trap and climbed on board. At the back of her mind whirred a constant mantra. How could you be so stupid and selfish, Claire? How could you?
As she set the trap to a fast trot out of Wilverton her heart was thudding crazily beneath her bodice. She clung to the hope that her sister had gone home and was impatiently waiting for her to return so they could eat supper.
Home or not, Faye knew that she would tear a strip off her sister. She prayed that Peggy and Edward would keep what they knew to themselves in case their father found out they’d also risked trouble with the gypsies.
As the trap bumped and rattled over dry ruts Faye saw that her fiancé and Anne Holly had a point when warning her that the burden of her siblings might prove to be too much for her to cope with. She put up her chin, instilling fresh courage. She must not let this calamity intimidate her, but draw strength from it. Then in the spring when her sister went to London Claire would surely find a husband.
Faye blinked anxious tears from her lashes and flicked the reins, urging the pony on. Too late, her vision cleared and she tried to avoid a pothole just a yard or two from Daisy’s front hooves. The animal veered left to avoid it and the trap tilted precariously, then bounced up and down. It landed with a crunch as a wheel buckled and Faye was flung from her seat. She landed on the parched ground on her back with enough force to knock the breath from her body. For a second or two she was lucid enough to be furious at her own carelessness and then the sky above spun and turned black.
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