Abbeyford Inheritance by Margaret Dickinson

it for their own purposes.”
    â€œWhatever could you use a place like this for?”
    Wallis smiled a little. “A trysting place, perhaps, for lovers to meet in secret.”
    Adelina’s eyes were drawn once more to the cold stones. Perhaps her mother and father had met in this very place all those years ago.
    Suddenly there was a movement and the figure of a man appeared on one of the walls. He stood, his legs wide apart, his arms akimbo, looking down at them. The horses shied a little at the man’s sudden appearance.
    â€œWhat the devil are you doing here?” Wallis Trent shouted angrily. “Why aren’t you working?”
    â€œOh, I’m working, Mr Trent, I’m working.” His tone was insolent. “One of the sheep strayed. I’m looking for her.”
    Wallis snorted disbelievingly. “ Well, be about your work, then.”
    The man made no move to obey, bitterness and hatred in his blue eyes as he looked down at Wallis Trent. He was stockily built, with broad shoulders and slim waist and hips. He wore a loose shirt, open to the waist and with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, showing his tanned, muscular arms. Around his neck was knotted a red spotted neckcloth. He wore breeches with leather leggings buttoned on the outside of each leg from ankle to above his knee, and heavy boots. He had a shock of red hair and white, even teeth.
    Adelina frowned slightly. He seemed to remind her vaguely of someone …
    Wallis was speaking again. “I said be about …”
    The man sprang from the wall and leapt the small distance between himself and Wallis’s horse. Jupiter reared, but the young man, showing no fear, caught hold of the bridle.
    â€œMr Trent – sir …” Instead of being a polite salutation, his tone was a sarcastic insult.
    â€œLet go my horse,” Wallis Trent hissed between clenched teeth.
    â€œWhen are you going to repair my mother’s cottage, to say nothing of all the other cottages in the village? You treat your animals better than your workmen!”
    â€œ Leave hold my horse ,” Wallis said with dangerous emphasis on every word.
    The young man held on, his face turned up towards Wallis. “When you’ve answered my question – sir !”
    Adelina saw Wallis raise his riding-crop, and a small scream escaped her lips as he brought it down with a single vicious stroke across the man’s face. The man winced and turned his face away but, to her surprise, Adelina saw that he still held the bridle fast in his hand.
    â€œAye, you’d like to kill me, wouldn’t you?” his voice was low and menacing and then he added but one more word, putting into it every ounce of the hatred that was in his heart. “Wouldn’t you, brother ?”
    Then he let go of the horse, turned and walked away but not before Adelina had seen the purple weal made by Wallis’s whip swelling on his cheek. She stared after him and as she did so the thought came to her that he was the first person she had met in Abbeyford who had no fear of Wallis Trent.
    â€œCome,” Wallis was saying, breathing heavily with ill-concealed anger. “ We must return home.”
    â€œWho – was that?”
    There was a pause before Wallis replied. “Evan Smithson. One of my employees, who seeks to rise above his station.” Then he urged his horse ahead as if to prevent Adelina asking further, unwelcome questions.

Chapter Four
    â€œEmily, who is Evan Smithson? Is he Sarah Smithson’s son?”
    â€œOh, Adelina,” Emily said, her eyes wide with fear. “You shouldn’t be here. Mama will be angry. Go back to bed.”
    After she had undressed in her own room that night, Adelina had quietly unlatched her door, listened a moment to be sure there were no sounds coming from the lower rooms, and had crept along the landing to Emily’s room.
    Now she perched herself on the end of Emily’s bed.