“A considered cull,” Richard corrected him. “I’ve consulted with my principals, and we’re all agreed. I haven’t asked Tom what he thinks, though. Perhaps we should ask him now and leave your fate in his hands.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but something in Richard’s eyes kept me silent. “Well, Tom?”

Tom stared, appalled, from Richard to me and to Terry and back again. Then he swore, and stood up to help himself from the decanter he’d recently used to give Terry his drink. “You mean it?”

Richard nodded, an eyebrow raised in query. “If it’s suicide, the Crown has the right to confiscate his goods. His wife and daughter would be left destitute and although they usually choose to return a portion, because of Terry’s involvement in the smuggling, it’s more likely they’ll choose to take the estate. But if he died cleaning his gun, it’s an accident and his family will be provided for. Personally, I would opt for accident. I don’t think this should affect anyone else more than it has to. I’m not saying Eustacia Terry will at once become as sweet as Lizzie Golightly, but it may make her more content.” He paused. “Of course, I’m a good deal more compassionate than some of the other principals in the enterprise. And you, Tom, saw his excesses first hand. I’ve only seen the results.”

Tom blinked at me, surprised. “You showed him?”

“Yes of course,” I answered. “He would have seen it soon enough, and I’ve no intention of spoiling my wedding night by shocking him with it then.”

“I don’t think I know you at all, Rose,” Tom said.

“I hardly know myself.” I put my hand out to him. “I only have one constant, these days. Come, Tom, choose.”

“Your word must count for a great deal,” Richard added. “Think about that room, what occurred in it, and—”

“All right.” His hand shook, where it lay in mine. “I can’t bear the thought of him doing it to anyone else, and I don’t think this was the first time he’s abused someone in that way. But—I can’t say it—” He broke off, biting his lip.

“Take your time,” said Richard. It had taken me no time at all to make my mind up, but then, Tom had some time to think and recover from the ordeal, and perhaps a decision made out of reason might have more weight than mine. I glanced at Richard and saw there was no escape for Terry. There was nothing left for him now.

“There’re others,” Terry said. “When I had her on my lap, there was a man covering us all the time. They saw what I did, they’ll speak up.”

“Who would believe them? Ruffians, thieves like them. In any case, there were two, the one you called Peter and one named—Griffiths, I was told. They are being dealt with as we speak.” Richard gave a smile that had nothing of amusement about it. “To put your mind at rest, their widows will be taken care of.” I didn’t know if he told the truth or not, but it had the desired effect. Terry visibly winced and Tom gasped as though he had received a blow to the face. Richard accepted his stare. “There are two things at stake here, Tom. Firstly, Rose will marry a Kerre on Thursday. There are some things a family such as ours is entitled to, and I will make sure the criteria are fulfilled. Understand this is nothing to do with position, scandal, and society gossip. It goes far, far deeper than that. It’s to do with respect and decency.” Tom nodded slowly. “And then there is what is to most people the lesser consideration of the insult done to Rose and, by implication, myself.”

“You could drop her,” Terry suggested. “I’ll take her off your hands if you think your family can’t stand soiled goods.”

Richard looked down at Terry in mild surprise, as though he was a servant interrupting his betters. Expressionlessly, Richard put the muzzle hard against the wound and cocked it. The only movement in the room was his thumb on the hammer as he pulled it back, and the only sound the click when it locked into place. Terry drew a breath, sharply, knowing he’d come to the last. “All right. You’ve won. I’m afraid. I apologise without any reservations, I’m in the wrong. I swear not to tell anyone what has happened in this room today, and I’ll make any reparation I can.” His breath rasped heavily in the otherwise silent room.

Richard still held off. I began to think he would really let Terry go. “The latter consideration is to me the deciding factor. I’m sorry, Tom, I’ve waited long enough.”

He pulled the trigger.

Where there was order before, now chaos reigned. Blood and brains spattered the carefully polished surface of the room and where there had been a living being, now lay a bloody, spongy mess. Richard pushed the back of the chair hard with his knee and Terry slumped down on to the table in front of us.

I leapt to my feet, afraid the blood had spoiled Lizzie’s habit and I would be forced to burn it, but I couldn’t see any marks. Richard had shot Terry from the side, and all the mess had gone away from us.

After the first recoil Richard leaned over the body. He put the gun in the dead man’s hand, where it might have fallen if Terry had shot himself. “I think we must leave the powers that be to decide on the suicide or accident verdict.” He glanced up at Tom, who stood still, his hand clamped over his mouth. “For God’s sake don’t be sick, Skerrit.” Then he looked at me. “Rose?”

I stared at