When Lillian and Nicholas reached the leaning fence in front of the cottage at Montague Road, Lillian quickly descended from the carriage, picked up the hem of her skirt and trudged through the drying mire of mud where the garden path should have been. To her relief, she could see the building was still on its stumps, although silt had left the front door wedged ajar. She did not expect to see much in the way of contents as the place had been open to looting by opportunistic thieves.
Nicholas stopped at the gate. ‘This is your sister’s house?’
‘Yes.’
He shot her a shrewd look. ‘I met her once.’
‘I know.’
She heard him suck in a breath and waited for a barrage of accusations to follow. Instead, Nicholas followed her to the porch and pushed on the door. It scraped open a couple of inche
