He gave a perfect bow. ‘Miss Drannock, I hope you’ll not find this an imposition, I’d like to collect some ashes for you from the bonfire. It will act as a talisman against the evil eye.’

‘I thank you – Oh!’ She shuddered. A live rat and another small animal had been thrown on the fire. Others would follow, a necessary sacrifice if the ashes were to have full power. She was horrified to see and hear the animals suffering, but she was as superstitious as most of the county’s breed. ‘It’s very kind of you, Mr Kinver.’

‘It’ll be my pleasure.’

She could make out his pleasant smile in the glow. Every time she saw him she was struck by his rich voice, smart appearance and quiet manner.

Someone threw an arm round her waist and she shrieked in fright.

‘It’s only me.’ Luke laughed in her ear. He stared at Morgan Kinver. ‘I’ve just done the necessary transaction with your brother. Good night, Kinver.’

Morgan watched as Cordelia was swept back into the festivities, then he went off by himself to wait for the bonfire to turn into ashes.

It was two o’clock in the morning when Luke and Cordelia crept back into Polgissey House.

Giggling and shushing each other, for they were certain the servants were all back and the household was in slumber, they decided on a nightcap before going up to bed.

‘Happy Midsummer’s Day,’ Luke blurted out, quite drunk.

‘I forgot to ask, what did Hal Kinver want with you?’ she whispered in the hallway.

‘It was only about a wager. The villagers can’t afford heavy sums. I won five pounds on Hal winning the wrestling tournament, but lost ten on the quaint tradition of who could sit longest on a greasy pole, but no matter. Nothing can spoil what was a wonderful day.’

Luke was holding her hand, and Cordelia had high hopes that he would turn their relationship on to a different footing. She would share his bed this night if it turned out that was what he desired. All she needed now was a little courage to encourage him.

Luke opened the drawing-room door and Cordelia almost let out a scream at seeing a figure blocking their entrance.

It was Jack and he was furious. ‘I want a word with you, Luke, and another time will not do!’

Twenty

There was a Midsummer Night’s ball at Penzance’s assembly rooms.

Olivia, lovely in a gown featuring a ruched, fan-shaped bodice, whispered to her father, ‘That’s him over there, Mr George Spears. I recognize him from a self-drawing in a broadsheet.’

‘He’s talking to Sir John, this will lead to an easy introduction, my love,’ Oliver said, his dark eyes homing in on the gentleman like a bird of prey’s. ‘Are you ready, Timothy?’