It was Eliza who found me, still on my hands and knees, bleeding on to the patio stones.
‘Gracious heavens, ma’am, whatever’s happened?’
She tore off a strip of her apron to bind my hand, then helped me to the patio chair.
‘Did you drop it?’ she asked, indicating the pitcher before going to clear up the worst of the breakage. ‘Why would you bring a thing like that out here?’
‘No, no,’ I said, once my breath had settled. ‘It fell. Or was thrown. From an upstairs window.’
I looked up, but whoever may have been there was long gone.
‘Thrown? Oh, who would be so wicked?’
She collected each shard in her apron and tied it tight.
‘Shall I bring you some water, ma’am? Or should I call the doctor? You look awful pale.’
‘Oh, I can’t disturb him again for nothing. He is already vexed with me for having him called out before.’
Eliza smiled at me – the first time I think she had ever shown me more than indifference.
‘Blow him,’ she said. ‘If you needs a medic, you needs one.’
‘I don’t need one. Could you . . . Could you find my husband, please?’
Eliza’s smile froze.
‘Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.’
After much fussing and fretting, and the establishment that I was really no more than bruised, accounting for the gash on my hand, David sat grave-faced opposite me in the drawing room.
‘I shall send for the girls,’ he said.
‘Oh, they will deny it . . .’
‘I know.’ He sent for them and, when they stood before him, told them of his intention to send them away to school.
What alarum, what sobbing and wailing and protestations of innocence followed. But David was resolute. They even tried to appeal to me, but I could no longer bear to look upon them. What they had done could have killed me, or caused the loss of my child. It still might. What sympathy I had for them is now gone, and can never return.
‘God, this is awful,’ muttered Jenna. ‘What a household.’
‘Harville life,’ said Jason. ‘Born under bad stars, the lot of them. So I’m guessing the girls are innocent then, if they get sent away. They couldn’t have killed her.’
‘Maybe in the vacation? Or perhaps they manage to stay at home. Though I do find it hard to believe that two such young girls would . . .’
‘What about the jug though? That could’ve killed her. They were lucky not to be up for murder.’
‘It could just as easily have been an accident.’
‘Why would they have taken the jug over to the window? Leave it out.’
‘No, I suppose it’s a bit unlikely. Oh dear. Perhaps a prank that went wrong?’
‘Anyway, my money’s on his lordship himself. How many more entries are there? Are we getting near the end?’
Jenna looked ahead. There were only two more entries. She swallowed, her eyes flicking away from the looping script as if it might taint her with guilt by association.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But there’s still no guarantee it’ll give us an answer.’