Her eyes glittering with unshed tears, she pulled his mouth to hers again, kissing him with a passion that was answer enough, even before she whispered, ‘I’ll love you for ever and beyond and yes, I’ll marry you, but it’s all my fault. I should never have—’

He cut off her words by the simple expedient of kissing her again, and it was only some minutes later when they became aware of a handful of bairns with their noses pressed up against the window and a scandalized mother attempting to marshal them away, that she said shakily, ‘I think we’d better go upstairs to the flat.’

He waited while she locked the door and then extinguished the lights before pulling her in to him again, and like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, they walked through to the back of the shop where Ruby opened the door leading to the flat.

The snow was falling thickly outside now but Ruby’s little sitting room was as warm as toast, and by unspoken mutual consent they sat down on the small sofa in front of the fire whereupon Edward took her hands in his. ‘I have to explain,’ he said huskily. ‘Why I was the way I was when you came to Foreburn.’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes, it does. You have to understand that it wasn’t you, it was me. I couldn’t think straight, Ruby. I’ve been in turmoil. But for Olive coming today—’

‘Olive has been to see you?’ she exclaimed, her voice high, but when she would have pulled her hands from his he held on tight to her fingers.

‘And thank God she did,’ he said softly. ‘She’s very forthright, your sister, isn’t she.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Then let me explain, my love.’ He pulled her to him, sitting her on his lap again as he kissed her hard before beginning to talk.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Daniel Bell stood in the small space left in the yard of the shop by the annexe, his heart thudding with excitement. The back lane had been deserted when he’d walked down it but even if it hadn’t been he had made sure that with his cap pulled low over his eyes and his muffler up round his neck and mouth, no one would be able to recognize him. It was seven o’clock. He had walked down the main street first and the shop had been in darkness, but light glowed in the flat above. All was going to plan.

‘Happy Christmas, Ruby,’ he murmured softly, playing his finger along the blade of the hunting knife in his pocket.