stopped us before we entered the carriage. “I wonder if you could visit poor Mrs. Hoarty again. She didn’t seem at all well in church this morning, and I couldn’t get close enough to her to ask.”

“Yes of course,” I said. Mrs. Hoarty lived close to the church, and it would be a short walk to her house. Richard offered to accompany me.

“I’ll send the carriage for you in an hour,” Martha said.

“We could walk home.” It was an opportunity to spend some precious time alone with Richard.

Martha was firm in her refusal. “I’ll send the coach.”

We had an hour then, half an hour’s courtesy visit to Mrs. Hoarty and half an hour for ourselves.

We watched the coach leave and Mr. Claverton go back into the church, then we turned to walk along the secluded path from the church to Mrs. Hoarty’s house. Nobody else was walking that way and high hedges protected anyone from looking over into the houses beyond.

I laid my hand on Richard’s arm, and walked sedately down the path with him until we were out of the cleric’s sight. As soon as I was sure we couldn’t be seen, I turned to him and at once he put his arms around me. Dragging me close he kissed me, his mouth hungry on mine, and I knew he had missed me, perhaps as much as I’d missed him. I pressed myself to him, felt his body hard and comforting at the same time, and I knew I would only find my solace in him.

“I don’t know which is worse,” he murmured, his lips against mine. “To be apart, or to have you near me, and not hold you like this.”

“Soon,” I breathed.

“Three weeks.” He sighed. “Knowing what I know, having tasted what I have, makes this waiting time so much longer.”

“Yes.” But I would never regret what we had done.

He laughed. “I feel like a small boy with his nose pressed up against the sweet shop window and no money in his pocket.”

“You don’t look like one.”

“I did once.”

“You? I can’t believe it.” I ran my hand up the cloth of his impeccable red coat.

He tilted my chin with one curled finger and kissed me again, long and lingering. “Believe it,” he said, his lips next to mine. He took my mouth again, taking his time, showing me his need in heated passion, firing me to respond with passion to match his own. He kissed me again, small, nibbling kisses on my throat and up to my forehead. I responded, pressing myself to him.

Eventually he loosened his hold. “I fear we must continue on our errand. If we’re caught here, like two children experimenting, we’ll lose all credibility.”

I looked up at his face so dear, so desirable. Anything less like a child was hard to imagine.

I put my hand through the crook of his arm, and we strolled along the lane. “Will you play the harpsichord for me today?” he asked.

The idea was scandalous. “Richard, it’s Sunday. There would be more scandal from that than if we were caught a moment ago. I’ll play for you tomorrow.”

“The provincial mind! It’s as if the Puritans never lost control. I always thought music was a gift from God, so wouldn’t it be appropriate on a Sunday? Still, I’ll be satisfied if you’ll promise to play tomorrow. It’s an extra gift, my love, that you play so well.”

“I may lose the gift, if I don’t practice.”

“Then I’ll try to ensure there’s a keyboard of sorts wherever we are. I’d hate to see such a gift die from thirst.”

I found it hard to explain what music meant to me, but I had to try, for him. “When I practice, it’s almost as if I’m on my own. It gives me a kind of solitude, even when there are other people in the room.”

He paused and pressed his lips to my forehead. “The more I learn of you, the more there is to love.” I glowed, basking in happiness.

We strolled in companionable silence, before I remembered something he had said to the vicar. “Richard?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“You said back at the church you were watching Steven. You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t want to bring his name up, since it upsets you, but I said at the time I wouldn’t allow him to hurt you any more. I’ve indicated that in the future we’ll accept no invitations if they are present, and most people know I disapprove of him. It won’t stop everyone, but it will mean we won’t meet.”

“How are you having him watched?”

“I would say, ‘my secret’, but lamentably, I fear that won’t stop you.”

He didn’t sound upset, so I persisted in my questions. “No, it won’t. Richard.” I stopped, and made him turn to face me. “I don’t want any secrets between us. Will you promise me?”

He stared at me. “None at all?” He sounded appalled, his voice rising slightly at the end of the sentence.

“No important ones. If you have a mistress, I want to know about it from you. If you have any other secrets, I want to know.” The thought of Richard taking a mistress after our marriage sometimes haunted me at night. “I can make the same promise in return.” I put my hand up to his cheek.

His stricken expression reminded me he’d never trusted anyone else in his adult life. Since Gervase had gone abroad, he’d kept his own counsel. It might be too much for me to ask.

I let my hand fall, turning to continue to walk. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.