She shut the door behind her, took off her shoes and put the bag down near the phone. She felt so worn out that she didn't feel like climbing the stairs so she headed for the sofa. She sat down and sank in it's comfort and warmth. She bent up her knees and put her arms around them as if the closeness of her own body would give her more comfort. She felt scared, lonely and numb. Her own house suddenly seemed strange and much bigger than ever. She wished she could turn back time. She wished this could turn out to be just another bad dream she was having. She felt weak and dizzy. She hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, but she knew se wouldn't swallow a thing. She lay down and closed her eyes. She waited for the tears to come but they didn't. She was too numb to even shed one tear. It all seemed like a nightmare some kind of dream she was having or rather watching as a bystander. Or maybe subconsciously she knew she couldn't allow herself a moment of weakness. She needed to be strong as there was no-one to be strong for her. And there was still so much to do, to think of and to go through and she was going to be alone. She missed him so much and he was the only person she could bear by her side now. She suddenly realized how lonely she was. Now that her father was dead she was all alone, she had no-one and she didn't belong anywhere. Oh, how she wished he was there for her but he wasn't and he wouldn't be. Dempsey was thousands miles away and didn't even know about her father. He had called her a few times but she hadn't called him back. She couldn't. She turned over and drew the blanket over her shoulders. It didn't help much though. She was feeling the constant cold and nothing helped. Nothing, no-one … she knew nothing was going to be the same. She felt her whose life changed when she heard those words, 'There was nothing we could do. He's dead'

There was nothing anyone could do for her. She had to take care of herself now as no-one else would.

"Lady Harriet, there's someone to see you"

"I said I didn't want to see anyone", she replied firmly.

"But this gentleman insisted", Abbot said. "He came all the way…"

"I don't care", she snapped. "Tell him I'm not seeing anyone. Not until ... not today"

"Harry…"

She shuddered at the familiar sound.

"It's me", the voice said.

She turned around and she blinked her eyes as she couldn't believe who she saw standing in front of her. But here he was - standing in front of her looking at her with those warm familiar eyes she wished to see so much.

"What are you doing here?", she asked.

"I came as soon as I found out", he said softly. That softness in his eyes and voice, his face, his presence. She felt a twinge in her stomach.

"From New York", she said quietly. She still remembered how she had felt when she had learnt Dempsey had booked a flight to New York. She had experienced anger and disappointment mixed with fear that she would lose him forever. And now he was in Winfield Hall, standing in front of her and looking at her with the greatest concern and softness she had ever seen in his eyes.

"I couldn't book an earlier flight", he started, but she turned back at him. She felt weak, she took a deep breath and tried to keep her composure as hard as possible. He was there just like she wished. He came all the way from New York to be with her. He came back like she needed him. She tried desperately to hold back her tears, but she couldn't. And when she felt his strong arms hold her and turn her around to face him, she clung to him and sank her face in his chest, feeling the tears run down her cheek uncontrollably. He enveloped her with his protective arms and her body trembled as she let out desperate sobs. He was holding her tight, stroking her hair with one hand and hurting as she was crying uncontrollably. Her sobbing was piercing him through, her crying was driving him crazy as he wanted so much to ease her pain, to give her comfort, to save her all she was going through.

He had called her from New York a few times, but she had never been home and he'd thought she was having a good time with friends. And then he had got that phone call and he had booked the first flight available and now he was holding her in his arms as she was crying out her pain. He couldn't tell how much time had passed before her sobs started to get weaker.

"I'm sorry", she said as she moved back a bit.

He brushed her cheek and wiped off her tears.

"I wish I …", he paused feeling his words stick in his throat . "I wish I could do something…"

She clung to him and he hugged her again, stroking her hair.

When she calmed down a bit, he led her to the sofa and as they sat down, he put his arm around her pulling her into him more, for which she was grateful. For the first time in the last two days, she felt warm. She also felt secure, taken care of. They sat for a long while in silence and Dempsey wondered what he should say. He realized that no words would give her comfort now so the only thing he could do was to be with her.

"You've been sitting here all day?", he asked.

"I didn't want to be troubled", she said.

"Am I…?"

"No", she said quickly.

"I saw some people downstairs", he said.

"They came for the funeral", she replied.

"They're family?"

"Mostly my cousins"

"But you didn't want to be there with them"

"I couldn't bear their looks full of faked pity"

"I'm sure it's not faked"

"Yeah, sure. One of them has already asked me when the will is going to be read"

"I'm sorry about that"

"Well…"

"Excuse me, Miss Harriet", a woman appeared in the door.

"What is it, Martha?"

"I heard you had a visitor and I was wondering whether you'd like me to make some tea"

"Oh, God, I didn't think … you must be hungry", Harry looked at him.

"Well, I could do with a sandwich or something", he said. "But only if you join me"

"I'll just have tea. I ate not so long ago", Harry lied.

"No, you didn't", Martha said.

She noted Harry had been crying and she felt relieved. She had been with this family since Harry's mother's death and this girl became like a daughter to her. She knew her better than anyone else in this house and she knew she was trying to be strong, to hide her true feelings, but she also knew she needed to let out her sorrow and pain. That's why she was glad Harry finally cried out her pain. She was glad this gentleman came and apparently was the only person Harriet allowed to get closer to her.

"Martha!", Harry protested.

"I'm sorry Miss Harry, but you haven't eaten anything since you came here which was last night and you need to eat", Martha said. "Please, tell her I'm right"

"She's right", Dempsey said looking concerned.

"I won't eat", Harry said.

"Harry, you've got to", he said. "Anyway, of you don't eat, I won't either"

"Fine", she snapped. Martha kept nagging her all day about food and now she seemed to have found an ally.

Dempsey came up to Martha and whispered something to her ear before she left.

"She's treating me like a child", Harry said when he sat on the sofa again.

"She's worried about you"

"Shouldn't be", she said.

"Why don't you let people take care of you", he said. "Let ME take care of you"

She looked at him as he brushed her cheek.

"I'm fine", she said quietly. "I have to be tough. I am tough"

"I know you are", he said. "But I want to... It's ok to let people help you"

"No, I have to rely on myself. I'm on my own now and…"

"You're not", he said looking her straight in the eyes. "You've got…"

He was interrupted by the door opening and they both turned around to see Martha coming in with a tray.

She put it down on the coffee table in front of them.

"I'll bring tea in a moment", Martha said and left.

"Thank you", Dempsey said.

"I said I wasn't hungry", Harry protested seeing two bowls of soup.

"You may be not, but I am", Dempsey said.

"Fine, you eat and I need to go powder something", she said.