Tom fell back, and Terry kicked him hard in the groin. Tom cried out, and his face contorted in pain. Terry drew back his boot for another swing, and I cried out for him to stop. He turned to look at me, still smiling, and I undid the first hook.

He watched while I undid my bodice and loosened the fastenings, releasing the drawstring on my shift, so he could see what he wanted to. I sat with my hands in my lap and met him stare for stare, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat.

He took a long look and then sighed happily. “I knew I was right.” The man behind him also stared. I felt like a curiosity of nature, but I sat still, the only expression on my face one of contempt. “When you’re in my presence, I want you to appear like that. It gives me something to look at in this featureless place.”

He gestured to the man, who crossed the room towards me. For one moment, I thought he was going to lay hands on me. Listing my rank or the rank of my husband-to-be would garner nothing but derision in this place. I only had my wits and Tom to help me here. I felt sick and afraid, but he walked past me to the wall behind us.

I turned to see what the man was doing, and saw him fiddle with a catch on the floor. A section of the wall opened. Light streamed through, making me lift a hand to my eyes to shade the dazzling stream. Tom, choking from his beating, sat up by my side.

“I’ll keep my promise,” said our tormentor. “In half an hour I’m to receive some visitors you know well. They’ll ask for my help in locating you two. I’m going to let you see them beg.”

I couldn’t imagine Richard and Sir George begging, but I imagined Terry would try to make them. “Turn back, my dear. I can’t see you properly.” I obeyed, and he delivered his next speech to my breasts. It made me uncomfortable, to say the least, but I sat still, trying not to give him any provocation either to hit Tom again or to make any move towards me.

“You can watch. But you’ll have your hands tied while they’re here, and Peter will hold a pistol against each of your heads. If either of you moves or makes any sound, you’ll both be shot. I hope that’s clear.”

He waited until we’d acknowledged him, then he stood up. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, still not looking at my face. He left the room.

As soon as he’d gone I took the drawstring of my shift and pulled it tight, to cover myself again. The man with the pistols didn’t stop me, but waited until I’d buttoned my jacket before he went outside and returned with another man who tied our hands behind our backs, this time with broad leather straps. I was glad they hadn’t used rope again, because I still had sore, red marks on my wrists from the last time. These straps didn’t cut in and hurt as much, but they held us as firmly.

He took Tom and me over to the chink in the wall, wide enough for us to see through, and made us sit. Then he left and the man called Peter came over. Cold iron pressed against my head, and I knew it for the muzzle of a pistol.

We waited in silence, Tom still labouring for breath. We said nothing, not daring to in case Terry’s orders were peremptorily carried out.

We stared down into a moderately sized room, a study by the look of it. There was a window on one wall, which showed us we were at least one storey up in the house. This room must be a concealed one, accessible from the room above rather than this one, as our floor was about half way up the wall of the study. Perhaps it was an old priests’ hole, or had been deliberately constructed to conceal contraband. There was a large desk in front of the window, and we watched Terry enter in and sit down. He looked up to where we watched and smiled, and then the doorbell sounded.

Within five minutes four people came in, and as they came into our field of vision we saw their unsmiling faces, their short bows to Terry. Sir George Skerrit looked haggard, his usually cheerful face drawn and white. Carier looked his usual stoical self. Richard and Gervase seemed no different. I wished I could see his eyes, see what I could read there. Had he guessed? That Carier was there indicated Thompson’s’ involvement, but I didn’t know, couldn’t guess what they planned.

“I’m extremely sorry to hear your trouble,” Terry began smoothly, after they had declined any refreshment. “Have you had any word at all?”

Sir George sat heavily and drew out his kerchief. “Nothing, but I can guess what they want.” I was so sorry to see him in such a state, and I knew Tom, breathing slowly beside me, was grieved to see his father so affected. His mother and sister must be beside themselves with worry. “We’ve searched the villages, we’ve asked everyone, but no one will admit to having seen them.”

So far, Richard had said nothing. He toyed pensively with his snuff box, but I saw his quick glances, taking in all the details of the room. “We can only hope they will be restored to you safe and sound,” said Terry. His expression would have fooled a paying audience. I had the mad desire to spit on him, but even that wasn’t worth my life.

“If they’re not,” said Richard, speaking for the first time, “others will die.”

He