Helen started. ‘No. Don’t go away, please. What do I have to do to answer? He’ll be waiting.’

Masefield’s hand was on his cordless telephone. ‘You want to call?’

Helen shook her head. ‘No, I just want to answer this.’ She held the crumpled telegram out to him.

‘What do you want to say?’

She looked from his heavy-lidded eyes to Kim’s impressed stare. Beside Kim Pansy and Chloe were watching her affectionately. And behind them the shutters stood open on the scented night. She thought of the way that Venice had possessed her, mind and body, and the way that its languor had made everything seem sweet and simple.

In painful contrast, her memories of the past months were all struggles and sadness. She had fallen helplessly in love with Oliver, and his loss had cost her a great deal. Even her slow recovery had been shadowed by Oliver’s growing unhappiness. Now she was left with tenderness for him, and with protectiveness and anxiety still shot through with some of the old love. Even here, far away in Venice with Darcy’s telegram in her fingers, she could see Oliver’s face and hear his bitter laughter.

Yet it was Darcy who had changed things for her. He had salved her loneliness with his soothing company, and he had taken away much of her sadness. Darcy wasn’t Oliver. He was himself, and she suddenly knew how important that was. Helen will you marry me Darcy.

She remembered her day of goodbyes to Oxford, and how her tutor had asked her what she really wanted. Her answer, ‘I’d like to marry and have children’, had shocked them both. The thought of it with Oliver was painfully inappropriate. But with Darcy, it was different. He was clear, and faithful, and she knew that he loved her.

Then at Stephen Spurring’s house, she had envied Beatrice in the warm clutter of her family kitchen. That could be her own life now, and for her husband she would have Darcy whose goodness was unmistakable.

She could go home to Darcy and the low grey house against the hillside, and the warmth of his love. And to the invincible security of his great name, however little that had to do with the man himself. She would be secure with Darcy, and she could be free to be happy. Nor would it be just for herself. Her mother and Graham would never have to worry again. She was certain that Darcy would see to that.

Pansy and Chloe and the Warrens were still looking at her, smiling uncertainly. Outside the low music of the Venetian night went on. Life had seemed sweet and simple here. Her heart leapt as she realised that that simplicity could stay with her now.