“Indeed, Mother,” Richard replied. “And restore the unfortunate victim to his family, who lived nearby.”

“It sounds perfectly acceptable to me. We’ll certainly put paid to that particular rumour.” Lord Southwood cleared his throat again, and got out his snuff box, a wonder of the miniaturists’ art, flipped the lid and offered some to Richard, who took his usual infinitesimal pinch.

Lord Southwood seemed to enjoy his snuff, drawing it in deeply with an air of satisfaction. “You’re not thinking of getting involved with the local riffraff, are you?”

The innocent blue stare fixed on him would have fooled that wily politician, Mr. Fox. “Involved, sir?”

His father, harassed, looked to his wife for assistance, and finding none, returned to his son. “You called it once ‘clearing up a small matter’.”

“No, I have no such intention.” Richard gave his father no clues.

The earl glared at him. “Then you will come to us tomorrow with Gervase?”

“I’ll follow in a day or two, sir. I’m helping Lord Hareton with a trifling affair concerning Rose’s childhood friend.” He made it sound unconnected with the fracas in Darkwater village.

Lady Southwood sighed heavily. “Is this person in trouble?”

“Yes he is,” Richard replied bluntly.

The countess raised her hands in the air in a gesture of exasperation. “I knew it. Strang, you’re getting married in less than two weeks. Please don’t embroil yourself in anything here.”

“I have no intention of it, ma’am.” Richard left his father’s side to cross the room and take his mother’s hands. Their hands together looked so similar, except Richard’s were larger, but the shape, that long, elegant line was there; something I’d never noticed before.

Richard spoke to his mother directly. “It’s rather the other way around. Tom Skerrit was involved in a fracas the other day that resulted in a man’s death. It was a clear case of accidental death, but matters would be better resolved if Tom took leave of absence for a while. I hope to convince him of that. I wasn’t even there at the time.” I hoped they didn’t think to ask where I was when it all happened, and connect it with their kind enquiries earlier. They were obviously not familiar with the names of the people involved, or it would have been much easier to put two and two together.

“And you know this Tom Skerrit?” her ladyship asked me.

“He’s the son of the squire. We used to play together as children. Richard’s trying to help him to scotch any scandal, and if Tom should be absent, then it would all be dealt with more smoothly.”

“It seems reasonable,” Lord Southwood said doubtfully, and then seemed to lose interest in poor Tom. “But you must come to us soon, Strang. It wouldn’t do for you to be married from your betrothed’s house.”

Richard smiled. “No indeed, sir, and I promise you I will be married from this house.” His father was forced to accept his promise. Soon after that the visit came to an end, and Richard took me away.

We spent the rest of the day in visits. All the available fashionable houses in Exeter had now been let, and we toured some of them. We entered fashionable drawing rooms, which contained some of the most important figures in the land, all there for my wedding and, I came to understand, some amusement and a change from the usual fashionable rounds. The story of Richard’s run-in with the local villains was repeated more than once, and scotched in the same fashion as before by us both, and by the end of the day I was heartily sick of the story. These people wanted gossip, the same as the local gentry, and I wished them joy of it. They weren’t so different after all, but their spheres of influence were larger, their manners more elegant and their clothes grander. Still, I was glad when the day came to an end and I could lean back against the squabs in the carriage with the satisfied sigh of one who has done her duty.

“Such an ordeal,” mocked my love.

“It was. I’ve always found social visits hard work, and I’ve met more new people today than I ever hoped to. I tried to remember all the names. I hope I’ve been successful.”

“I’m sorry.” He took my hand. “I grew up with most of them, you see, and you seemed to fit in so well I almost forgot your sheltered upbringing.”

I laughed. “Sheltered? With smugglers on our doorstep and enough gossip to fill any London salon? I would say restricted, but certainly not sheltered.”

He smiled. “Restricted then. But I’m convinced you’ll slip in to your allotted place as though you’d always been there. I know you were worried about it, but I don’t think you need concern yourself any more.”

“What do you think they’ll say about me?”

His eyes sparkled, and he smiled teasingly. “That you’re a pretty-behaved young lady, but they don’t know why I should choose you, over their Mary, Elizabeth or Margaret.”

“You have, though, and I can’t fathom why. I am no different to many of these young ladies, and many of them are superior to me, you know they are.” I wouldn’t let him interrupt, and I wasn’t fishing for compliments. “They’re younger, prettier, better educated, and every day I wonder why you chose me. You might regret it one day, but I’m determined to make you as good a wife as you would find anywhere.”

“My dear.”

“No, Richard, I mean it. I know what I am, and I know what you are, and what you could have for the asking. Any of the eligible young ladies we met today would have had you; at least