I smiled at him, the memory fresh in my mind. “I don’t know what I would have done without those days if I hadn’t escaped from time to time.”

Tom took my hand and we stood together while we remembered our childhood and enjoyed the fine day, looking out at the blue sea and the sandy beach far below us. That I could behave with such freedom in front of my future husband only seemed to emphasise the trust we had in each other. Richard let us dream for a few moments and then said, “Well, I’m sorry to interrupt the reverie, but we should get back to the others, don’t you think?”

We climbed back the easy way, at the far end of the ledge where it sloped gradually up to the cliff, but before we made the final ascent, Richard caught my arm and pulled me back. “Local lovers, eh?” he murmured, lips against mine before he let me go with a teasing smile. Tom had discreetly left us, but he must have seen me in Richard’s arms before he went to join the others.

Lizzie, Georgiana and Gervase had tired of waiting for us, and unpacked the food that Martha had provided. Gervase had found one of the roasted chickens, and he was tucking into a leg with evident relish as we approached them. They had tethered the horses to some trees, a little way off. Gervase had found a separate place for Nighthawk. He stood contentedly cropping the grass, waiting until Gervase should be ready for him again.

Ever careful for the welfare of her guests, Martha had provided us with a much richer repast than Tom and I had managed to filch from the kitchens in the old days, and there were cloths we could use to sit on, to protect us from the damp grass. Martha used to despair at the number of times I arrived home with grass stains on my skirts, but somehow, even in his country clothes and relaxed mood, I couldn’t imagine Richard ever doing such a thing. I said something to that effect and was surprised when Gervase laughed at me.

“Comes of seeing the finished product only, ma’am,” he chortled. “My brother got through more pairs of breeches in a week than you could ever imagine. Two pairs a day sometimes, as I recall. He could lose himself in the grounds like nobody else; even the gamekeepers didn’t know the places he discovered.”

Richard grinned at his brother. “As if you didn’t come with me.”

We all laughed, remembering what we had been, and what we had become or would become.

We stayed there as long as we could, but all too soon, we realised if we didn’t return we would be late for dinner, so we remounted and set off, away from the coast. The sky was more overcast now, but the exertion kept us warm.

We had just entered the squire’s land when we saw something on the grass ahead. As we got closer it looked less like a fallen branch I’d thought it at first and more like a bundle of rags. With a sickening, sinking feeling, I realised what it must be.

Richard and Tom must have realised in the same moment, for they both kicked up their steeds to get there before us. They had dismounted by the time we arrived at the scene, and were bending over the figure, looking for signs of life. Richard found an arm and felt for a pulse in the wrist, but then Tom uncovered the man’s head and breast, and we saw why he wouldn’t find one.

Ugly welts marred all the bare flesh visible. The man had been stripped and beaten, no thoughts of punishment here, only murder. I stared at the welts, raised and red, and the blue bruise marks, which told me the man had been beaten for some time before he died. The back of his head was one large crater, leaving only a bloody, sticky mess of crushed bone and hair. Richard closed the staring eyes with a gentle hand.

At the first sign of what this was, Gervase took Lizzie and Georgiana well away from the scene. I was deeply grateful for his prompt action. Lizzie never went to visit the sick, her squeamishness more trouble than it was worth. While I was sympathetic, it was the last thing we needed here. In contrast to Lizzie’s distress, I had discovered I gained satisfaction from helping with such injuries as they came my way. I liked to have the ability to help rather than to stand helplessly by.

However, I could do nothing here, other than go and fetch a cloth from my saddlebag, and throw it to them to wipe the mess from their hands. My horse skittered again when she got the scent of blood, and I was forced to move her upwind.

Richard waited until I had settled my mare once more and left her with the others, now waiting some distance away, and returned to him. “We came here the same way, didn’t we? So he wasn’t here earlier.”

“No, my lord,” Tom agreed, his face white with shock. He leant back on his haunches and stared at the man wide eyed as though he wanted to take in every part of his appearance, never forget what he looked like.

Richard observed his reaction. “You know him?”

“H—He’s one of our servants, a gamekeeper,” Tom stammered. “I’ve known him since I was a boy.”

Richard looked sharply at him, and then he searched in his coat pocket and found his flask. He handed it to Tom without a word. The younger man took it, unscrewed the