Hezekiah knew he was on dangerous ground but pressed on. ‘Do you not think she may have been right? From your reaction now—’

‘My reaction, as you call it, is because of her betrayal not because I am related to the family of a poor fisherman!’ Oliver snapped. Voices from the great hall saved further angry exclamations. ‘Ah, Martin and Mortreath are here at last. When the women are finally ready we will dine and enjoy a good evening’s entertainment, I can guarantee you that, Hezekiah. I have lost one relative and gained another but Mortreath in no way measures up to what I desire in a kinsman.’

Oliver left the room to welcome the new arrivals. Hezekiah smiled to himself. He was going to enjoy the evening’s ‘entertainment’ but was James Mortreath? There was another reason for the smile. If there was a chink in the perfect marriage, and if it grew to a chasm, perhaps Kerensa would need a shoulder to cry on…

Kerensa had never seen Ameline look so lovely. She was wearing an elegant gown of deep rose silk and a necklace of rubies circled her throat. Peters, her personal maid, had brushed her light-brown hair until it gleamed and arranged it in a simple but fashionable style.

‘You will take James’s breath away,’ Kerensa exclaimed, squeezing her hand. ‘Will you give him his answer tonight?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Ameline answered coyly, marvelling herself at her reflection in the full-length mirror.

‘Oh, Ameline, the poor man will be distraught.’

‘At least my mother won’t be here to embarrass either of us. I know I shouldn’t say it but I’m rather pleased she and Father were committed to one of Grandmama’s soirees tonight.’

‘Well then, come on, Miss Beswetherick,’ Kerensa laughed, ‘let’s go downstairs and dazzle the menfolk. We have two apiece tonight.’ Something caught Kerensa’s eye. ‘What’s that mark on your neck, Ameline?’

Ameline’s hand flew to the blemish in question. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, blushing fiercely.

‘It’s unlikely to be an insect bite at this time of year,’ Kerensa went on. ‘I hope you’re not going down with a fever of some kind. Have you any marks elsewhere?’

As she got closer to Ameline the light from the candles was adequate to reveal the cause of the vivid red mark. No insect was responsible. It was obviously made by another’s lips. Kerensa’s heart jumped and guilt rose to meet it that in her own preoccupations she had taken little notice of Ameline’s movements – she had no idea where the girl went on her frequent riding excursions. Could she have been meeting someone?

‘I scratched myself,’ Ameline would have her believe.

‘Oh, I see. What have you been doing with yourself lately? I have been neglecting you, haven’t I, and I am sorry, Ameline. I haven’t been out riding with you for quite awhile.’