As Patrick turned back to help Simone from the boat, Sophie smiled at the chubby young man who stood waiting for them. He had a round face and blond curls, with a rather impish expression. He was wearing what looked like a monk’s long robe. But he couldn’t be a monk; there were no monks left in the British Isles. Perhaps he just likes the robes, Sophie thought.

“How do you do?”

The man peered at her. “I do well, I do well,” he said, after a pause. He had the rolling syllables of a Welshman born and bred.

Patrick came up behind Sophie and shook his hand. “I am Patrick Foakes, and this is my wife, Lady Sophie.”

“Mine is John Hankford,” said the Welshman, “just plain Mister John Hankford.”

Hankford had a sweet look about him, Sophie thought, rather like a talkative cherub. Except that he seemed disinclined to say anything further.

“We are very grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Hankford,” she said.

Hankford peeked rather nervously around the gentlefolk before him and saw that the rowboat had disappeared into the hanging gray sea spray. Then he pulled a long, rusty rifle from under his robes and leveled it at Patrick.

Sophie jumped but said nothing. Simone gave a faint scream. Patrick remained utterly silent, merely taking a quick glance at the rifle.

The Welshman erupted into speech. “There’s no need to worry, no need to worry. I don’t mean to scare the ladies, no indeed, no indeed. The fact of the matter is … well, the fact of the matter is that I’ve got to ‘ave your promise of silence before I take you up the stairs to the house. Because there’s something there that you might not like, or perhaps you will, I don’t know, but you’re all Lunnonfolk, I reckon, and so you’ll ‘ave to promise not to let out the secret.”

Sophie looked up at Patrick questioningly. He was staring at Hankford, a small frown between his brows.

“Are you injuring anyone, or holding anyone against his will?”

“Oh no, oh no,” the Welshman exclaimed, speech fairly rolling out of his mouth. “Quite to the contrary, as a matter of fact, quite to the contrary. We’re healing people; it’s just a matter of who we’re healing. But I canna go any further, or rather you canna go any further, until I have your word of honor that you won’t let out the secret to anyone in Lunnon.”

Patrick glanced down at Sophie.

She met his eyes and then smiled. There weren’t many gentlemen who would ask their wives’ opinion at such a moment, even silently.

“I think we should accompany Mr. Hankford,” she said to Patrick, ignoring Simone’s moan.

Already Patrick had found that Sophie had an inexhaustible store of questions on any subject. He should have known that she would dash straight into danger if given the chance.