It felt like waiting for the hangman. Will sat in the parlour with Dearne who had a book open in his lap, but had not looked at it for an hour. Lady Araminta sat by the window with Miss Rose playing some kind of card game, and Augustus had disappeared to the stables.
He thumbed through the pages of a magazine he had selected and found an interesting article on crop management, but found he couldn’t settle enough to master the content. He realised just how unused to sitting about idly he was. His days were filled with labour. Often back breaking labour, which meant, he realised, he didn’t need to think above much. Sitting in the parlour like this, just waiting for Holbrook to arrive, was interminable. What the hell were they to say to the man? What was Dearne going to do? Confront him?
Wi
