CHAPTER FIVEFirelight flickered on the nursery wall. Jacina sat hunched in a chair, a blanket round her shoulders. Her boots and stockings lay drying on the hearth. She was clutching a mug of hot milk, from which she now and then took a small sip. Her voice was tremulous as she told her tale.
Sarah listened in grim silence.
When Jacina had finished, the old woman turned her head and stared into the coals. Her face was sombre in the glow.
“I knew it from the first,” she said at last.
“You – you did?” stammered Jacina.
Sarah looked at her. “Oh, I didn’t know exactly what was going on. Mercy, no, but when the Earl brought Miss Felice up here to meet me, I thought at once she had the look of a minx on her.” Sarah mused for a moment before continuing.
“They say suffering makes the heart s
