sister had got embroiled in it, it affected her, too.
Edward blushed and fidgeted. ‘His pal was after Miss Claire,’ he rattled off. ‘I reckon you should thank me for scaring ’em off, Miss Shawcross.’
Faye believed he was telling the truth and in an instant she felt her niggling anxiety over her sister’s whereabouts explode. Claire might have a more personal involvement with the gypsy boys than she’d imagined. Quickly Faye banished that awful thought from her head. Claire could be silly, but she’d never play such a dangerous game.
‘Do you want me to go and find them?’ Edward meekly offered.
‘I expect my sister has already gone home. It’s supper time soon.’ The tone of the youth’s voice indicated that he, too, suspected an upset might be brewing. Faye climbed aboard the trap, her heart feeling leaden. From a corner of her eye she saw Edward resume scything. She hoped he had not put too much store on her questions. If a rumour spread about Claire Shawcross and a gypsy boy, her sister’s reputation would suffer. With Claire’s come out in the offing they couldn’t risk a breath of scandal spoiling their plans.
Faye forgot about visiting Anne Holly and turned the trap to head home. She slowed down by the butcher’s shop, but the shutters were already closed for the day. It was midsummer and still sunny, but she guessed the time to be gone six o’clock. At the back of her mind whirred a fervent prayer that her worry was unfounded and her sister was already at Mulberry House. Yet...she feared Claire was not.
With a gasp of relief Faye glimpsed the unmistakable sight of Peggy’s bushy auburn tresses bobbing along further along the street. Faye pulled Daisy to a halt, then jumped down and hurried towards her.
‘Is Claire in the shop?’ Faye tilted her head to see past a few customers congregated in the doorway of the confectionery shop. The merchant kept his premises open quite late in the summer months to sell to those playing games on the village green.
‘Haven’t seen your sister, Miss Shawcross,’ Peggy said, edging away.
‘Are you sure about that?’ Faye lowered her voice to demand, ‘Have you and Claire been meeting some gypsy lads on the sly?’
‘Don’t tell me pa, will you, Miss Shawcross?’ Peggy whimpered. ‘He’ll take the stick to me back.’ She dodged past, running towards her home.
Faye was no mean sprinter and quickly caught up with her; grasping her elbow, she whipped the girl around. ‘You had better tell me where Claire is, or I’ll come home with you now and you can tell your father and me everything that has gone on.’
‘We went to the fairground earlier. I came back, but Claire stayed with Donagh because they’re packing up to travel on and she wanted to say goodbye.’
‘Donagh?’ Faye echoed with subdued alarm.
‘Donagh Lee is the chief’s son. He’s keen on Claire...’
‘Is she keen on him?’ Faye whispered, her mind jumbling with all sorts of imagined disasters.
Peggy nodded. ‘I told her to come back with me or she’d get in to trouble. But she said she’d stay just a few more minutes, then head home. They were by the copse where the ponies are tied up.’
‘Thank you, Peggy.’ Faye could feel the prickle of shocked, angry tears as she hurried back to the trap and climbed on board. At the back of her mind whirred a constant mantra. How could you be so stupid and selfish, Claire? How could you?
As she set the trap to a fast trot out of Wilverton her heart was thudding crazily beneath her bodice. She clung to the hope that her sister had gone home and was impatiently waiting for her to return so they could eat supper.
Home or not, Faye knew that she would tear a strip off her sister. She prayed that Peggy and Edward would keep what they knew to themselves in case their father found out they’d also risked trouble with the gypsies.
As the trap bumped and rattled over dry ruts Faye saw that her fiancé and Anne Holly had a point when warning her that the burden of her siblings might prove to be too much for her to cope with. She put up her chin, instilling fresh courage. She must not let this calamity intimidate her, but draw strength from it. Then in the spring when her sister went to London Claire would surely find a husband.
Faye blinked anxious tears from her lashes and flicked the reins, urging the pony on. Too late, her vision cleared and she tried to avoid a pothole just a yard or two from Daisy’s front hooves. The animal veered left to avoid it and the trap tilted precariously, then bounced up and down. It landed with a crunch as a wheel buckled and Faye was flung from her seat. She landed on the parched ground on her back with enough force to knock the breath from her body. For a second or two she was lucid enough to be furious at her own carelessness and then the sky above spun and turned black.
‘Miss Shawcross? Can you hear me? What in the name of God’s happened here?’
The urgent questions filtered into Faye’s mind through the drumming in her forehead. She tried to rise, but every limb seemed under attack from fiery pain and she sank back to the earth with a groan.
‘Stay still now...let’s see if you’ve broken anything.’
Faye felt the pressure of long firm fingers investigating her limbs in a swift scientific manner. Her collarbone and shoulders were also subjected to a smoothing massage, then two strong hands slipped beneath her shoulders, easing her upwards.
‘Look at me...do you recognise me?’
A strong hand grasped her chin as it started to sway towards her chest.
‘Open your eyes and look at me.’
The rough command penetrated her daze and Faye obeyed, blinking until a dark visage ceased shimmering like a mirage and she was staring into a pair of piercing blue eyes. ‘Mr Kavanagh...’ she murmured, then gasped as a pain shot through her from attempting to get up.
‘Be still...let me help you...’ He’d been squatting by her side, but now rose, drawing her gently to her feet with him.
‘I don’t think you’ve broken anything. But you’ll ache like the devil for days.’ He touched a finger to a bloody scratch on her ashen cheek. ‘I take it you hit that pothole. Your animal is injured. Your rig’s in a bad way, too.’
Faye stumbled around to see the trap listing dangerously to one side. But it was the sight of Daisy favouring a front leg that made a sob burst from Faye. The little pony had served them well over many years and she had hurt Daisy. The reason for her reckless speed burst into her mind like a thunderbolt and all else was forgotten.
‘I must get home, sir,’ Faye implored. ‘There is an emergency. She attempted to throw off his restraining hands to stumble on in the direction of Mulberry House. She’d managed only a few steps when her knees buckled.
Ryan caught her sinking form, swinging her up into his arms. ‘You little fool. Are you after killing yourself? You’ve suffered a bad accident and should thank your lucky stars you’re not in a worse state. A doctor should take a look at you.’
‘I have no time for that. Put me down, I beg of you, sir.’ Faye squirmed in his unrelenting hold. ‘It is critical that I reach home. It will be the worse for us if I do not.’
Ryan had been carrying her towards his horse, but he came to an abrupt halt, gazing down into her tortured expression.
‘What’s put you in such a panic that you’d risk your life flying along in that little contraption?’
Faye pushed tangled blonde locks from her brow and squeezed shut her eyes. ‘I can’t tell you, sir. It is a private matter concerning my family.’ Faye felt tears prickle behind her lids. ‘Would you take me home, please, so that I may deal with it without delay?’
‘If