Clem frowned. ‘I don’t think she will want the child to grow up and perhaps learn his real father was hanged as a murderer. ’Tis bad enough his mother was a prostitute.’

Hezekiah considered this. ‘Robbery by violent means then. It is also a hanging offence. Later it can be divulged he met with an unfortunate accident at sea and was never brought to justice. Knowing he is finally out of the way for good will surely ease her torment.’

Clem’s body gave a small involuntary shudder as the sea captain’s eyes turned to slits and glowed strangely, rather like a snake’s.

‘I thank you, Cap’n Solomon,’ he said quickly, wanting to get back on the firm ground of St Michael’s Mount again.

‘Indeed, I thank you, Trenchard, it will be a pleasure to come to the assistance of such a charming lady.’

As he left, Clem felt uneasy. He didn’t like having to ask this strange individual to help Kerensa, and he didn’t like the thought of her mixing socially with him either.

When he had seen Clem off his vessel, Hezekiah reached down to his soft fawn-coloured kid boot and pulled from its confines a thin jewel-handled stiletto blade. Almost reverently, he stroked the cold, hard steel.

Ameline was sitting before her dressing-table mirrors attempting a more natural arrangement of her hair in the hope of pleasing Bartholomew on their next rendezvous. A small sound made her look anxiously at the window for signs of raindrops. If the weather turned wet again she feared Kerensa would not allow her to go riding and she would miss her last opportunity to see Bartholomew.

She thought again about his kiss. She felt he had been rather rough with her, his hands had gripped her uncomfortably and the touch of his lips on her neck had hurt and left a mark. She had looked for such marks on the necks of Kerensa and Polly O’Flynn. They were married, and were presumably kissed often by their husbands, but she found none and could not think of a reason for Bartholomew leaving one on her. She would tell him he must not do it again. It was a most unseemly blemish for a lady to acquire and if anyone but him had been responsible it would have brought an end to their meetings.

Ameline was fascinated by Bartholomew. When she was with him she gave no thought to James Mortreath. Bartholomew could offer her nothing that James could, but he was handsome, kind in his own way and charming in his attempt to speak well and use perfect manners. He talked often of his intention of becoming a wealthy man, of becoming important, respected, to have his company sought after. He was so earnest she could easily believe he had the inner strength to make it happen.