‘Are you trying to save his reputation?’

She hadn’t been able to save her own, but Alyssa nodded. ‘Something like that.’

Rosie took a sip of tea and put her mug down on the table.‘I know a bit about Charity because my mum was interested in the history of Devon and this house. Not that Driftwood House was like this when Charity lived here. It’s been altered and extended over the years, but a few parts of the old building remain. People say the poor woman was actually murdered here, though I haven’t mentioned that to any of my guests. “Gruesome murder scene” isn’t quite the vibe I’m aiming for.’

‘I bet.’

‘All I know is that Charity was living here with her father, after her mother died, when she was mur— well, when she vanished, on the same day as Josiah. She was an only child and was in the house on her own when whatever happened, happened. That’s what my mum reckoned anyway, from her research.’ Rosie began to drum her fingers on the table top. ‘I’m pretty sure the books and documents that Mum collected about Driftwood House are in a box under my bed. I was thinking of donating the books to the new library that Belinda’s set up. I’ve no idea if there’s anything more in there about Charity, but would you like to see them?’

‘That would be wonderful, if you don’t mind.’

‘I’ll go and grab them, and you can have a look while I make drinks for the tent team.’

Rosie got to her feet and headed out of the kitchen. Soon, she reappeared with a large cardboard box and settled Alyssa in a bright, airy sitting room. Shouts of the men putting up the marquee drifted in through the open window that overlooked the sea.

There were a dozen books in the box and a couple of A4 folders filled with a treasure trove of photocopied documents about the house’s history. Alyssa also found a handful of scrawled notes, presumably jotted down by Rosie’s mother during her search for information.

Kicking off her sandals, Alyssa began to leaf through the books. Most of them were general history books about Devon and only mentioned Driftwood House in passing. But a couple gave more details about the house and one, in particular, caught Alyssa’s eye.

This one claimed, as if it were proven, that Josiah had murdered Charity. But it gave more details of the family heirloom that had vanished at the same time: a jewelled brooch that Charity had been bequeathed by her mother.

Alyssa pulled her notebook from her bag and copied down the sketch and description of the missing jewellery. Her artistic skills were appalling – she was the first to admit it. But her drawing looked fairly brooch-like by the time she’d finished.

She put down her pen and stared at what she’d done. Even her rudimentary drawing revealed how stunning the real artefact must have been: an oval-shaped brooch made of gold, with a ruby at its centre and small diamonds and emeralds around it. Seed pearls hung from the bottom of the brooch, like tear drops.

It must have been worth a good deal of money, back in 1753. Enough money to tempt an impoverished Josiah to commit murder? wondered Alyssa, pushing her notebook back into her bag.

She glanced at her watch. Time was getting on, she had a tour to run, and she didn’t want to impose on Rosie’s good nature any longer. So, she began to put the books and documents back into the box.

‘All done?’ asked Rosie, standing in the doorway. When Alyssa jumped, Rosie laughed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to creep up on you. Did you find anything interesting?’

‘I found a description of the brooch that went missing when Charity disappeared.’ She held up her notebook for Rosie to take a look.

‘That must have been a beautiful piece of jewellery. I wonder what happened to it?’

‘Hopefully, Charity and Josiah used it to fund their new life together.’

‘You really want them to have had a happy-ever-after, don’t you?’ Rosie looked at her, curiously.

Alyssa nodded, still unsure why it mattered to her so much.These people were long gone, whatever had happened to them. But Josiah’s redemption – possible redemption – was becoming almost an obsession. She wanted to clear his name for herself and also, she realised, for Jack and Stan. The thought of the then newly bereaved Jack being bullied as a child because of his black-sheep ancestor had stuck in her mind.

‘We can all learn from history, don’t you think?’ said Rosie, leading Alyssa back into the hall. ‘I like to think of all the people who’ve lived up here at Driftwood House over the years. I wonder what made them laugh and cry? Who they hated and who they loved?’

‘And what mistakes they made so we can try not to repeat them.’

Rosie grinned. ‘If only it were that simple.’ She opened the front door and a shaft of sunlight fell into the hallway and striped across the grandfather clock in the corner.

‘Thank you so much for letting me see your mum’s books and documents. I really appreciate it, especially so close to the wedding – which I hope will go brilliantly.’

‘Why don’t you come?’ urged Rosie. ‘To be honest, I’ve lost track of who’s been officially invited to the reception. It’ll be a bit of a free-for-all, but that’s what Liam and I want – a real village affair. And you’re a part of the village now.’

What a lovely thing to say! Alyssa couldn’t help beaming. ‘That’s so kind of you, but I’ll be at the reception anyway because I’ve promised to help Magda with the catering.’

‘That’s great! I’ll see you there, then.’

‘And the best of luck with running your guesthouse. This really is a very special place.’

‘It is, but you should have seen it before the renovations were done. It was in a sorry state, with damp, damaged woodwork, and holes in the roof. The renovation team did a great job and uncovered lots of history along the way.’