Free Replenish the Earth by Anna Jacobs

couldn’t possibly manage on her own, however hard she was prepared to work.
    When he left her at the inn, he went away to worry about it all, but for some reason, he couldn’t get the memory of her glowing face out of his mind. She’d been so happy. He wished desperately that he could keep things that way for her.
    There was too much unhappiness in this world, that was sure. And men like Sewell caused more than their share of it.
    * * * *
    The following morning, Sarah again hired the gig from the inn, and got the lad to drive her and her luggage to the Manor, plus a basket of food packed by Prue Poulter. She’d borrowed a walking stick from Prue, one with a nobbly end to it, and she set it close at hand, keeping a careful eye out for attackers as they drove. But nothing disturbed the peace and beauty of the day.
    Left alone with her new retainers, Sarah wondered that she felt no fear, only great joy at being here. But she couldn’t spare the time to savour the moment, for two faces were staring at her expectantly, waiting for orders.
    She unpacked the basket, whose contents brought tears to her eyes, for it was a gift from the landlady of the Golden Fleece and Prue had done her proud. There was a pie, a crusty four-pound loaf, a jar of fruit preserve, a pat of golden butter, stamped with a rose, two wax candles and a jug of milk, its top stoppered by a wrinkled apple.
    She set to work to finish her bedroom, removing her grandfather’s things from the chest and laying her own meagre belongings inside it instead. Not nearly enough to fill it - just as she would feel lost on her own in the huge bed with its high pedestal.
    At noon she shared the food with her new retainers, watching them eat with the hunger that only long deprivation can give. She had lived among such hunger for too long to mistake it. If she was able, she vowed to herself, she would ensure that Mary and her son never went hungry again.
    ‘I think I’ll have to send to the village to buy more supplies,’ she said while Mary was clearing the table.
    ‘Yes, mistress. Janey Bell keeps a little shop there. She sells all sorts of things.’
    ‘Would Petey go with me to carry the baskets, do you think?’ 
    Mary's hand went up to her mouth in a gesture of dismay. ‘Oh, mistress. Oh dearie me. I’m sorry to tell you no, but he daresn't.’
    ‘Why ever not?’
    ‘It’s them men of Sewell’s, mistress. They d’torment my poor lad something cruel. He ent been into the village for over a year, now. But if you ask her, Janey Bell will lend you one of her children for a ha’penny to carry a basket back for you. Or she has a handcart. Maybe you could use that - if you’re buying a lot of things. If you got some wheat flour - she buys the good stuff from the miller in Sawbury - we could make proper bread.’ She licked her lips at the thought.
    ‘I’ll go to see her myself tomorrow, then.’ Sarah wasn’t looking forward to the long walk, though - especially if those dark skies meant rain.
    To her relief, Will Pursley turned up that afternoon to ask her if she’d like him to take her into the village to buy anything
    ‘That’s very kind of you.’
    ‘It was my mother who thought of it.’ It wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to tell Mistress Bedham he’d been worrying about her.
    They hardly spoke to one another on the way there. Perhaps one day she’d be able to afford a pony and a small conveyance of some kind. You needed them in the country, it seemed. She’d have to learn how to drive one first, but it didn’t look hard, not on these quiet country lanes.
    ‘You should call on Parson,’ Will said after a few minutes’ driving in silence. ‘It’d be proper for you to make his acquaintance.’
    ‘Oh, yes. I’d be happy to do that. Is he married?’
    ‘No. And he’s quite old now.’ He pointed. ‘Mrs Bell's shop is the third house after the inn, the one with the bow window. It’s one of your properties still, actually, and she’s  a