the thing on the desk, shocked I felt so little. I’d seen dead men before, from accident or old age, but never the result of an action like this. It didn’t seem to matter. The shock had come before, when I’d realised how much Terry had fooled us all, and for how long. This seemed to be an anticlimax, not the horror it should have been.

Richard would have taken my hand and turned me away, but I leaned forward, forestalling him, and picked up the two untouched wine glasses and the two tumblers used for brandy, all now spotted with blood. “These must be washed.” I left the glass Tom had thrown to the floor. One glass would not be remarked on.

Richard nodded, and took my arm. “We have to go now.”

Tom looked up from where he stood staring at the body, and numbly followed us out of the room. The footman outside hadn’t moved. “Give us ten minutes and then raise the alarm,” Richard ordered.

“Yes, my lord.”

Richard took the glasses from me and put them on a table by the door “Make sure these are washed and put away.” The second footman picked them up and indicated we should follow him with a little bow. “The back stairs are clear, my lord, and they lead straight to the courtyard at the back of the house.”

We followed the man down the cold stone steps to the back door where Carier waited.

There was a small lobby before the door. As Tom and the footman passed through it, Richard caught my arm and pulled me back.

His face was white, his clear blue eyes completely paralysed. He dragged me to him and held me tight, his head buried in my shoulder. He threw his head back and took several deep breaths, then looked at me, not smiling, with such need in his eyes I wanted to take him to my bed and hold him until he’d forgotten what he’d done, so there was only us again. “I told you, my love. An act like this takes a little of your soul, but I could see no other way.” I admired him deeply, even more now I knew what it had cost him to take this step. My husband-to-be respected life more than anyone would ever know. Except me.

He forced a smile, and took my hand. We went out into the yard together.

Richard cupped his hands and helped me into the saddle. Then he mounted his own horse. Tom, still dumb with shock, waited for us. We wasted no time putting Penfold Hall behind us. I welcomed the release, and galloped up to the ridge beyond, letting my horse have her head. I didn’t think of anything except the wind at my ears trying to free my hat where I had jammed it hard on my head as we left.

Richard let me go. He must have seen my need to release some of the tension I felt, to try to deal with my feelings, but I was always aware of him riding closely behind me.

Once over the ridge, the house out of sight, we deliberately slowed down. If anyone had seen us going hell for leather it would have seemed suspicious, when the tragedy at Penfold Hall was discovered, and after a while we stopped completely. Richard helped me down and I didn’t let him release me when I stood on the ground. “I took Rose out for a gentle ride today,” Richard said to Tom, his arm still around my waist. “She is, after all, still convalescent. We met you and you rode with us for a while. We know nothing about any other occurrences, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeated. “What made you do it?” he cried, his voice cracking.

Richard touched his hand in a steadying gesture. “It was needful. Apart from all other considerations, Rose wouldn’t have slept soundly for a long time to come if she knew he was doing what he did to her to anyone else, someone without protectors. The man would have caused the death of many other people, and perhaps started a war to gain territory. He was greedy and he wouldn’t have stopped. I’ve seen his kind before. We both have.”

He glanced across at Carier who concurred with a dour nod. “Not too many times, my lord, but I can recall one or two.”

“Left to themselves they get worse,” Richard told a silent Tom. “In this instance, the moment he laid a finger on Rose, he was dead. I was planning to ruin him, was plotting with Cawnton to take over his part of the smuggling enterprise, and although it would have taken much more effort and money, it might have been worth it.”

“You love her that much?” Tom asked, wonder in his eyes.

“Oh, much more than that,” Richard assured him. His hand tightened briefly around my waist. “Other women are presented with jewellery and money as proof of devotion. If I started to present mine with dead bodies, society might begin to wonder.”

Richard waited while I gave Tom a hug.

Then he took me back to my horse and helped me to mount, and we continued on our way.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I was weary when we got home, and I spent most of the rest of the day in the small parlour kept for family use, reading the papers with my feet up. Richard joined me for much of the time, and we sat in companionable silence, recovering from the ordeals of recent days. Once I asked him, “Have you done this often?”

“No,” he answered. “Sometimes the