Free Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter by Sylvia Andrew Page A

gave him a smile full of in sincere regret. ‘Alas, I was not here at the time. I…I was with my g-grandfather in London.’ She shouldn’t have added that last bit. She had stammered. Rosa had always said that she wasn’t a good liar.
    The silence grew. ‘Now that does surprise me,’ he said at last.
    â€˜Why?’ Emily asked with a touch of belligerence.
    â€˜Because…’ He regarded her with amusement as she lifted her chin. Then he went on, ‘Because London would have been so crowded at that time of year. The middle of June, wasn’t it?’
    â€˜No, the middle of May.’
    â€˜Oh, yes. So it was. How did you know?’
    â€˜How should I not know when I pay visits to my grandfather, Sir William?’
    â€˜Quite! But how did you know that it was May when I was in the district?’
    They had reached the gate at the end of the trees. Emily had never been so thankful in her life to reach a simple gate. ‘My sister-in-law will be wondering where we are,’ she said and hurried through, deliberately letting the heavy gate swing to behind her. It must have hurt when it hit him, but apart from a swiftly drawn breath he gave no sign, and soon caught up with her again. They were just by the entrance to the maze and she at tempted to hurry past. He took her arm and stopped her flight.
    â€˜But, Miss Winbolt! Isn’t this the entrance to the famous Shearings maze? You can’t have for got ten that Mrs Winbolt particularly wished me to see it. She wouldsurely be disappointed if I said I hadn’t even ventured inside. Shall we go in?’
    â€˜Oh, but I…’ Without quite knowing how he did it, Emily found herself being led into the maze, where they were soon surrounded by a high wall of hedges. But, she thought grimly, if Sir William Ashenden thought she was about to wander idly through the maze with him, he would find he was mistaken. The situation was far too dangerous for her peace of mind. She knew the maze inside out and had every intention of losing him as soon as she could. Within minutes she had taken a swift turn to the right, then another, then hurried along to the left. Slightly out of breath, she stopped and looked round. There was no sign of him. She waited a moment or two, then, smiling with satisfaction, she turned a corner to make her way out. Sir William was there, sitting on a bench that had been placed to rest the weary at the centre of the maze.
    â€˜There you are,’ he said genially. ‘Where did you get to? I’ve been waiting for you.’
    He patted the seat beside him and Emily, whose knees had gone weak, sat down. What else could she do? ‘Now,’ he said, ‘where were we? Oh, yes, of course! How you knew I was in Stoke Shearings in May. I’ll tell you how it must have happened, shall I? It’s very simple. The people at the inn told Will Darby, and Will Darby told you!’
    Emily stared at him blankly. What had they been talking about? Then she said, ‘Yes. Yes, of course. That must have been it.’
    â€˜A curious coincidence, that.’
    Against her better judgement Emily asked, ‘What is?’
    â€˜That he and I have the same name—though I amusually called William. Only in exceptional circumstances does anyone call me Will.’ He paused. ‘ Very exceptional. One might almost say intimate circumstances.’
    Emily rose to her feet in some agitation. ‘I…I should like to join the others. They will surely be wondering where we are.’
    â€˜They know where we are,’ he said firmly. He led her back to the bench and sat her gently down again. ‘We can talk a few minutes longer.’
    â€˜But I don’t wish to talk to you!’ cried Emily in desperation.
    â€˜I think you do,’ said Sir William softly. ‘I think you must.’
    â€˜What do you mean by that, sir?’
    â€˜Come, Miss Winbolt. Why do you think I’ve