Lady of Lincoln by Ann Barker Page A

that that is wise?’ he ventured, his brow creasing a little.
    ‘I see no reason why not. Oh, I will be discreet, of course, but anyone could tell from looking at the lady that she is transparently honest.’
    ‘That is not what I was thinking,’ he replied.
    ‘Explain?’
    ‘I overheard you telling your brother that he had captivated her with his fine eyes, or some such thing. If she has become enamoured of him, then surely it would be cruel in the extreme to ask her help in finding a wife for him.’
    ‘Oh fiddle,’ declared his sensible wife. ‘People do not fall in love in that kind of instantaneous way. She was flustered at meeting a strange man, that is all.’
    ‘I’m sure it is just as you say, my love,’ replied Mr Trimmer with a smile. ‘I was just wondering …’ His voice tailed off as he stopped fiddling with his wife’s ring, and ran his fingers up the inside of her arm to her elbow.
    ‘Yes, Alan?’ she replied innocently.
    ‘I know you have had a good deal to do today,’ he continued, looking down at the coverlet.
    ‘That’s true,’ she agreed.
    ‘I was wondering if you were very tired, or…?’
    ‘No, Alan,’ she answered, pulling back the coverlet in invitation. ‘I’m not tired at all.’
     
    The members of Canon Whittaker’s household had never kept very late hours, and after Emily had retired for the night, especially in the summer months when she would go to her room before it was properly dark, she would find it impossible to sleep before she had read a few pages of a book.
    Before meeting Nathalie, her reading matter had often been Shakespeare. She would sometimes close her eyes and try to imagine what the different characters might look like and how they might sound as they spoke their lines.
    Now, she had slightly different subject matter to absorb her, for she had borrowed from Nathalie a copy of Mrs Radcliffe’s novel, The Mysteries of Udolpho , published just a few years ago. Yet although she picked it up once her bedroom door was closed, she sat with it unopened on her knee, her thoughts going instead to the ideas that she had had for a book when she had been in Mablethorpe. As she recalled the pictures that had come into her mind, the hero seemed to take on new life, and she now realized that he bore the features of Sir Gareth Blades. Blades! Now there was a fine name for a character in a book.
    She remembered the conversation that they had had concerning  Canon Mitchell. Of course it had been very shocking for Sir Gareth to suggest that the clergyman might have pushed his wife down the stairs. What a splendid incident it would make in a novel, however! Perhaps the principal characters might discover that an elderly clergyman had murdered his wife. Perhaps the heroine might discover the body and fling herself into the hero’s arms out of shock!
    Blushing at the very thought, Emily opened the novel on her lap and began to read. Minutes later, she burst out laughing, for on reaching the third page, it became clear that the heroine was called Emily! Perhaps, then, she was destined to be a heroine after all. 

CHAPTER SEVEN
    M rs Trimmer did not waste any time in furthering her acquaintance with Emily Whittaker, and the following day, she made her way to Canon Whittaker’s house. Emily was already about her household duties when her new neighbour arrived, but she gladly left the sorting of the linen cupboard to Mrs Ashby, and came downstairs to greet her guest and offer her refreshment.
    ‘Thank you, I should be very glad of something,’ Mrs Trimmer admitted. ‘The boys can be quite exhausting first thing in the morning, but Alan and Gareth have taken them to walk about the town a little. They talked of going to a place called Brayford. Is it very far?’
    Remembering what her husband had said, she watched Emily keenly when her brother’s name was mentioned, but Emily did not even look conscious let alone blush at the mention of the baronet. Instead she said with