Frances gazed blatantly into his dark eyes. She took his hands in hers and moved them about in the feathery sweeps that was a custom of hers, reacquainting him with her delicate perfume. ‘Even though you’re, not unsurprisingly, feeling a little jaded right now, I’ve never seen you looking so well. Encouraged and positive at last, if you don’t mind me saying so. The girls and I missed you greatly while you were away in London, and then on your own estate. I beg you not to leave it too long to come and see us again when next you return.’

The madame kept her personal favours for a select few of her clientele. Luke was one them and he felt privileged, although he regretted having no exciting memories to take away with him.

Ignoring the thickness of his head, he raised her hands and kissed them sensuously. ‘I promise you, Frances, you’ll be one of the first of my friends I call on. Tell me, is my cousin astir?’

‘I’ve absolutely no idea.’ Frances smiled gaily, while fetching Luke’s frockcoat. ‘Mr Drannock did not spend the night here.’

‘He did not take any of his own stuff?’

‘No, sir. He said he wanted to keep a clear head. He left Ellie after an hour, saying he had some business to attend to for Sir Oliver.’

‘How curious. My father said nothing of the kind to me. What could he want done at such a late hour? And why ask Bartholomew?’

Luke rubbed his brow, recalling Bartholomew’s words of the previous evening: his thinly disguised threat towards Morgan Kinver if he failed Cordelia, and his remarks concerning Clem Trenchard. Is that where he could have gone, to warn Trenchard off? He remembered Bartholomew’s violence towards Alicia, his murderous intent towards Hal Kinver, and Alexander Longbourne’s blood-soaked corpse. His cousin was a cold-blooded killer. If he had ridden to the moor to confront Trenchard, perhaps his intention was more than to give a warning.

‘Frances, this is very important, can you tell me anything else?’

Frances’s curling eyelashes flickered rapidly, the only sign of her curiosity at his urgency. ‘He seemed to be in a hurry.’

‘Perhaps he had a long journey to make,’ Luke muttered to himself. Then to Frances he said, ‘Order my horse to be made ready. I must go home to the manor without delay.’

Luke found his parents in the gardens with Samuel and Tamara, taking the fresh air.

‘There you are. We’ve all been ready and waiting for you and Bartholomew for ages,’ Kerensa said brightly, while noting uneasily his tense strides and that he was wearing yesterday’s clothes. ‘The others are inside.’

‘Is Bartholomew here?’ Luke called out, while still at a distance.

‘No.’ Oliver lifted Samuel up in his arms and advanced towards him. ‘Like your bed, his hasn’t been slept in. What’s wrong?’