Hiding From the Light. Barbara Erskine

sit by me and we will discuss it, see if there is something we can do.’

      She was trembling. ‘He will hurt her, Papa. He will force a confession.’

      Anthony Bennett frowned. ‘Liza is not entirely innocent of whatever charges have been laid against her, Sarah. You and I both know that. Her intentions may have been benign, but her methods have not always been Christian.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Have never been Christian, if we are honest! That is, sweet daughter, why your mother first dismissed her from our service. She decided Liza was not a fit nurse for you.’

      Sarah’s face was burning with indignation. ‘But you brought her back, Papa, after Mama died. And she cared for me as her own child. She never harmed me –’

      ‘No. She never harmed any of us. She has been loyal and kind to the Bennett family, which is why I gave her the cottage, and for that reason we will support her and do what we can for her.’ He stood up and walked towards the window. His elbow resting against a carved wooden mullion, he stared down into the garden. ‘I will speak to our neighbour, Sir Harbottle, who may well end up the judge of the case,’ he said slowly. ‘Our friendship is severely strained however, as you know, as he is for Parliament and we are for the king. It is not a good time to seek favours.’ He turned back to her. ‘You must leave this to me, Sarah.’ His voice was suddenly stern. ‘Do not become involved.’ He knew his daughter. For a while, during her short-lived marriage to Robert Paxman, she had settled into blissfully demure matronhood, or so it had seemed to her father. He had sighed with relief. His daughter was safely settled, married to a good, wealthy man. Not gentry, as he would have wished – she had spurned the suitable men whom Anthony had produced for her inspection – but a decent burgess of Colchester who was strong, well-educated, successful and she adored him. The only blight on their five-year marriage had been the emptiness of the nursery. The cradle remained unused, to Robert and Sarah’s deep unhappiness, and when Robert had died of the pox Sarah was left wealthy, independent, and alone. Anthony sighed. This was the third time she had ridden over to see him in as many weeks. The loneliness was beginning to wear her down.