Destitute On His Doorstep Read Online Free Page A

Civil War, it was plain that their steward, Silas Thorpe, had done his work well, and was a good taskmaster in managing the tenants and obtaining from them the requisite labour.
    Jane’s eyes had been fixed on the horizon for the past hour. At last she was rewarded when the turrets and rooftops of the hall came into view. In recent years she had often thought about the past and now, seeing the pink-and-gold stone walls, with ivy growing around the facing windows, it brought it all back with a strange force. With poignancy she found herself thinking of her father and all he had tried to do for her. Sadly she had never known her mother, who had died shortly after her birth. The memory of her father’s death flashed into her mind and brought tears to her eyes. She blinked them aside. Bilborough Hall had been a place of peace and happiness, and she vowed it would be again. It was home, and this was where her heart was, for always.
    â€˜There it is, Scamp. Does the sight of it not gladden your heart?’
    In reply, the little dog twitched his ears and licked her hand. Her eyes switched to the left of Bilborough, settling on the picturesque rooftops of Avery in the distance. On a note of gravity she said, ‘I wish I could say the same for the town.’
    She was remembering the last time she had been there, when Gwen, her stepmother, had been attacked by hostile locals, who had accused her of being a witch. Jane felt her heart contract with remembered fear.
    â€˜It will be better now, Scamp. What happened was a long time ago. Things have moved on and people forget. Please God the people of Avery have done so.’
    Not to let any unpleasant memories mar her home-coming, she thrust them away. Dropping Scamp to the ground, she laughed joyously, gathering the reins firmly in her hands. ‘Time for some exercise, Scamp. We are home at last and I can’t wait to get there. Let’s see who can get there first.’ With a tap of her crop and a kick of her heels against the horse’s flanks, she took off in a flurry of skirts.
    As a child, no one but Jane’s father had been able to control this wayward, headstrong girl. In Northampton Jacob Atkins had subdued her spirit and it had lain dormant but for ever simmering. And now, within sight of Bilborough, it was resurrected and ready to fly free.
    Jane’s father had been killed in a skirmish near Oxford, leaving his widow with not a penny in the house. The country at that time was racked with civil war, plague, food shortages and high prices. Gwen had no liking for Bilborough Hall or the people of Avery, who on the whole supported Parliament and were making their lives at Bilborough a misery. When the threat ofbeing charged with witchcraft became a reality, Gwen had fled Bilborough, taking Jane with her, and returned to live with her widowed brother at the family home in Northampton, much to Jane’s disgust, who, despite her fondness for her stepmother, had thought she should do as other women with absentee husbands were doing all over England and play the soldier and stay and defend her home with prudence and valour.
    Jacob Atkins had prospered in the provision of trade before the war. He had married the widow of a cloth merchant, who had brought him a small fortune and given him three daughters. He had promised Gwen on her deathbed that he would look after Jane until she married, but having his sights set on Bilborough Hall since the estate was not entailed to the male line and was now Jane’s inheritance, he had a mind to marry her himself.
    His anger would be fierce when he returned home and found her gone, but Jane had no qualms about leaving. When she’d put the house behind her, she’d felt like a gilded bird freed from its cage. But she feared that he would come after her and threaten her life and her future. Every waking moment from now on she would expect to see him. The picture of him coming after her for revenge was so