When we reached the barn, I pushed open the door and looked in. The creak of the door brought Phoebe to her feet and as soon as she saw who it was relief flooded over her poor sad face.

I felt adult, in charge of the situation, as Angelet, who lacked my experience, could never have been.

I said: ‘Ginny, go back to the house. Don’t tell anyone that Phoebe is here. I will see you when I get back.’

Ginny ran off and I shut the barn door.

‘Oh mistress,’ cried Phoebe, ‘I had nowhere to go. And I thought of you. You was terrible kind to me the other day.’

‘I did nothing, Phoebe.’

‘’Twas the way you looked at me. As though you understood like.’

‘Now, Phoebe,’ I said. ‘You have been with a man and you are going to have a child. That’s it, isn’t it?’

‘You be terrible sharp, mistress. How did ’ee know?’

‘I did know,’ I said. ‘I am … perceptive.’ I think she thought I meant I had special powers, and she was so desperate, poor girl, that she seemed to look upon me as some goddess who could drag her out of her trouble. A great pleasure swept over me to be so regarded. It was strange to have been thinking of bringing disaster, possibly death, to one woman so recently and then to feel gratified because I was going to save another. It was a sort of expiation, placating the angels. Moreover, I felt a sense of power which was very gratifying—and like a balm laid on the wounds which Bastian had inflicted.

I sat down beside her. ‘How did it happen?’ I asked.

‘He said I were pretty and he did like the look of me. He said he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. I hadn’t thought I could be pretty to anyone before that. It just made me soft like, I reckon.’

‘Poor Phoebe,’ I said, ‘it must have been hard living in that cottage with a father like yours.’

At the mention of her father Phoebe began to tremble.

‘I fear him, Mistress Bersaba.’ She unbuttoned the shapeless black gown and showed me the marks of a lash on her shoulder. ‘He gave me that for singing a song about spring on the sabbath day,’ she said. ‘What he’d give me for this I don’t dare think. He’d kill me, I reckon. I deserve it, I don’t doubt. I’ve been so wicked.’

‘Why did you do it, Phoebe?’

‘The need to came over me, mistress.’

I nodded. Who could understand better than I?

‘Let us be practical,’ I said. ‘Does he know?’

‘Oh God help us, no. My mother does and he might beat it out of her. He’ll blame her for my sins. He’ll say she knew of my wanton ways and let them go unpunished. What can I do, Mistress Bersaba?’

‘I’ll think,’ I said.

‘You be terrible good to me. No one ain’t ever been so good before.’

I felt somehow ashamed. I would never have believed I would. I was learning something about myself. I could put myself so easily into Phoebe’s place. I could feel the need coming over me and I could see myself, if I had been Thomas Gast’s daughter, finding myself in the same position as she was.

It was for this reason that I could give out this comfort, this understanding, and even in that moment I thought: Angelet could never be the same. Innocent Angelet could not understand.

I said: ‘Could the man marry you?’

She shook her head. ‘He be married. I did know at the time. I can’t think what came over me.’

‘How old is the baby?’

‘Well, ’twould be six months nearly. There comes the time when it can’t be hid no more … and that time’s come now.’

‘So you ran away.’

‘Yes, my mother knew. Her’s known for a day or two. Her’s beside herself. She keeps saying: “Gast’ll kill you.” He’s a hard man … but a good man. He can’t abide sin and I reckon this is about one of the biggest sins there is. She was frightened for me. So I ran away. I thought it best.’

She was looking at me with pleading eyes, and I said, ‘Don’t worry, Phoebe, I’ll see to it. You mustn’t get too upset. It’s bad for the baby.’

‘Oh, the baby, I wish it dead, mistress. I wish I was dead. I did think of doing away with myself but … I couldn’t somehow.’

‘You mustn’t talk like that. Now, that is wicked. Listen. You will stay here for tonight. Nobody knows you’re here except Ginny and she won’t dare tell anyone because she knows I’ll be angry if she does. I’ll bring you a wool cloak to wrap yourself in and I’ll bring you food. There’s a bolt on the barn door. When I go, pull it across the door and don’t open it for anyone but me. In the morning I’ll have a plan.’

She started to cry. ‘Oh Mistress Bersaba. You be terrible good to me. You’re like an angel, that’s what you are … an angel of mercy. I won’t ever forget this …’

‘Don’t say any more. Just wait there. I’ll be back.’

I came out of the barn and heard her pull the bolt as I had bidden. I felt exultant, powerful, godlike, as I went into the house.

The next morning I realized that I could not keep Phoebe indefinitely in the barn and there was only one thing I could do and that was tell my mother. I could have done that the previous night, for I knew very well what her reaction would be. She would never turn away a girl in Phoebe’s condition. I was beginning to take a sharp look at myself, and I did not disguise the fact that I had behaved as I had because of a love of power. I had wanted to take all the glory of saving Phoebe for myself and no one else was to have a share in it. So it was I who had taken food and covering down to her. It was I who kept her secret for a night.

But now I must tell my mother before Phoebe was discovered. I found her in the stillroom with one of the servants, and she looked up with pleasure when she saw me. She always liked us to come to the stillroom because she thought it was so good for us to learn the secrets of preserving and such culinary arts.

‘Mother,’ I said, ‘I want to speak to you.’

I must have looked very serious, for she immediately said to the servant: ‘You carry on, Annie.’ And to me: ‘Come to my bedroom, Bersaba.’

So we went there and I told her that Phoebe was going to have a child and had run away from home and that I had hidden her in the barn for the night.

‘Oh, poor, poor girl. What will become of her? Thomas Gast is such a cruel man. Why didn’t you come to me last night?’

‘She was so distressed, Mother, and I didn’t quite know what you would say. I had to save her for at least a night. I said I would do what I could. We must help her.’

‘Of course we must. She can’t go back to that father of hers.’

‘Could she stay here?’

‘She will have to. Where else is there? But what of the child?’

‘Ginny’s child stays here.’

‘I know. But Ginny was one of our servants. We mustn’t let people think that they can have children as they like and that the Priory is a sort of home for them.’

I knew that while she was talking she was wondering what she could do for Phoebe. She would never turn her away and she would let the child stay here because she would say that a child cannot be parted from its mother. I could see the horror in her eyes, which meant that she was contemplating Thomas Gast’s avenging anger if the girl ever fell into his hands.

‘Mother,’ I said, ‘she is terrified. If you could see her you would have to help.’

‘My dearest child, of course we shall help her. She will have to come here at least until the child is born and then we will see what can be done.’

‘Oh, thank you, Mother.’

She looked at me, her eyes full of love and approval. ‘I am so happy, Bersaba, to see how compassionate you can be.’

‘I have not done wrong to promise her, to give her hope?’

‘I wouldn’t have had you do anything else. Go down to the barn and bring her to the house.’

Exultantly I went.

Phoebe drew back the bolt when I said who it was. Her eyes were shadowed and still filled with terror.

‘It’s all right,’ I told her. ‘You are going to stay here. I have spoken to my mother. She says you are not to worry. The baby will be born here and then we’ll see.’

Phoebe fell to her knees and, taking my hand, kissed it.

I felt wonderfully happy. I had not felt like that since I had heard of Bastian’s deception and I had thought I never would again.

It was impossible to keep Phoebe’s presence at the Priory a secret. Not that we had attempted to. My parents said that Thomas Gast would have to know sooner or later and the sooner perhaps the better. His daughter’s disappearance would have to be explained, and it could only be a matter of hours before one of the servants talked to someone in the village, and such news would spread like wildfire.

It was not therefore surprising that the following day Thomas Gast presented himself at the Priory.

Phoebe saw him coming and—much to my gratification—immediately came to me as though I was the one who could best protect her.

She, Angelet and I went to one of the peeps in the solarium where we could look down on the hall without being seen, and where not only could we see but hear what was going on. Angelet and I had used those peeps in our childhood when we had watched our parents entertaining in the great hall. My sister had thrown herself wholeheartedly into Phoebe’s cause, as I had known she would, and was as determined as I that Phoebe should not go back to the fiery blacksmith. With characteristic enthusiasm she had been busy finding discarded garments which Phoebe would be able to adjust to her ever-increasing size, and materials which could be transformed into baby clothes.

The blacksmith looked less fierce in our hall than he did in the smithy. I missed the glow which the fiery furnace cast over his face and the ring of the anvil which because of him sounded Satanic. I think he was perhaps a little subdued by what would seem to him the grandeur of our home. At the same time he would disapprove of it and I could imagine his thinking of it as treasures upon earth which rot and decay.

Our mother came down to the hall. She looked very fragile confronting that mighty man, but there was that air of dignity about her of which he could not help but be aware.

‘My lady,’ said Thomas Gast, ‘it’s come to my ears that you have my daughter here, and I am come to take her from you.’

‘For what purpose?’ asked my mother.

‘That I may treat her according to her deserts, m’am.’

I could feel Phoebe tremble beside me. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ I whispered. ‘You’re not going. Watch.’

‘It is for that reason that we have decided she shall stay here at least until the child is born. A girl in her condition must not be subjected to harsh treatment, if only for the sake of the unborn child.’

Thomas Gast was temporarily taken aback. My mother was speaking as though this was a child about to be respectably born. He spluttered: ‘I don’t follow you, m’am. It must be you don’t know …’

My mother seized her opportunity. ‘I know what has happened. Poor Phoebe has been seduced by a man who can’t marry her. She is young, little more than a child herself. We must be merciful. There is a new life to consider. I am sure she will realize the error of her ways and that it won’t occur again.’

The blacksmith’s fury broke out. ‘M’am, she be my daughter, more’s the pity. I would she had been strangled at birth rather than bring this disgrace on me and mine. I want that girl. I’ll thrash her till she screams for mercy. ’Tis the only way to cast out the blackness of her sin. Not that it will ever be cast out. She’ll know the folly of her ways when she goes to hell … but first she must have a taste of hell on earth.’

‘She has had that most of her life,’ said my mother tartly. ‘Thomas Gast, your Puritan piety has brought misery to your entire family. We are not going to give Phoebe back to you. She is staying here. We shall employ her in the household, and that’s an end to it.’

The blacksmith was like a lion cheated of his prey. ‘I’d respectfully remind you, m’am, that she be my girl.’

‘That does not give you the right to ill-treat her.’

‘Begging your pardon, m’am, I have every right. Give her over to me that I can help her mend her ways and maybe save her soul from eternal damnation.’

‘If we gave Phoebe back to you, Thomas Gast, and if any ill befell her or the child through your treatment of her, do you know that would be murder?’

‘You seek to bemuse me, m’am. I only want my girl.’

My father had come into the hall. He stood beside my mother and said quietly: ‘You will go now, Thomas Gast. Your daughter will remain here until her child is born. I forbid you to harm her and you are trespassing on my land. I gave you no permission to come here.’