She thought kindly of James Mortreath and she was nearly sure she would agree to become his wife. The fifteen-year age span between them caused her no concern; many of her contemporaries were married or promised to gentlemen much older and not as presentable. James was considerate, intelligent and, most important to her, neat, clean and unpretentious in dress. She detested the filth some of the gentry indulged in and since the disquieting encounter with Captain Hezekiah Solomon at her grandfather’s birthday party she no longer found the perfumed, powdered variety of male a figure of amusement. The sight and smell of such a spectacle now left her chilled to the marrow and she avoided all contact with such men.

James was in no way one of these fops. He was not unattractive and the thought of lying with him was not disagreeable. (This was a thought most contrary to Ameline’s disposition but as it was marriage under consideration she thought it permissible.) And James intended to live in London and had intimated she could choose her own house in a secluded and exclusive part of the capital. Ameline had been ‘finished’ in a ladies’ academy in London and she liked the idea of living there. Another point in his favour was his dislike of large, noisy social gatherings. Ameline was enjoying the respite from the long, wearying round of parties and dances her raucous extrovert mother persisted in dragging her to.

Pengarron Manor was blissfully quiet compared to Tolwithrick, but her stay was different to what Ameline had envisaged. The most noticeable thing missing was laughter – yet it had been there when she arrived. As she continued an unsteady descent in a pair of unsuitable high-heeled riding boots, it occurred to Ameline that although she found a feeling of romance in the cove there was none at the manor.

She halted a moment. She had been so entrenched in her own thoughts for her future she had not realised that back in the huge imposing building something was wrong. For nearly all of the two weeks since she’d been there Oliver had absented himself, and when she had asked eager questions about the coronation of the new king, George III, he had given her the details gruffly and not included Kerensa in the conversation. Ameline recalled more than one occasion when Oliver had spoken to Kerensa with unusual sharpness. Kerensa herself was unusually quiet, her voice pitched softer, her words to everyone carefully chosen, and she made no mention of Oliver or any matter relating to him.