“It was unavoidable, after what he did to Beth.” He rubbed his palms on his britches, as if trying to wipe off blood. “Beth does not know. She knows only that I arrived and took her home. Her virtue . . . she is so trusting, and has such a very good nature, but she was only fourteen. How we managed, I do not know, but we managed to keep the knowledge within the family.”

Jane murmured that she was honoured by Mr. Dunkirk’s trust, and would keep it. As they began to walk again, she thought of Beth’s desperate plea that she not reveal her engagement. Beth might not know what had happened to Mr. Gaffney, but she must surely suspect.

He smiled wryly. “This, then is my dilemma. If I believe, as I do, that you will not betray a trust, then Beth’s story is safe with you; but if you will not betray a trust then you will not be able to answer my question. But I must ask, so please forgive me for the burden I place on you.”

He stopped. The air between them was charged with the question they both knew he must ask. Jane trembled, waiting.

“Does Beth have a relationship with Mr. Vincent beyond that of student and teacher?”

The relief. The sudden, palpable relief that flooded Jane’s limbs nearly overwhelmed her senses. She laughed outright. “No. I can honestly say that she does not, and have no fear of breaking a trust.”

At her words, Mr. Dunkirk heaved a sigh. “Thank you, Jane. I—” He broke off at the shocked expression on her face, only then realizing that he had used her Christian name. “Forgive me! Beth speaks of you so often as Jane that it has become more natural in my thoughts than it ought. Please, please forgive my impropriety.”

Jane held up her hand to stop him, though her heart trembled at his words. “I am certain you meant nothing.” That he felt it natural to think of her by her given name was so marvelous, so unexpected, that she could barely pay heed to the next moments.

He thanked her, she was certain of that, but the details of his thanks were hidden behind the wonder that he had used her name. The moment passed, faster than she would have liked, and his attention returned once again to Beth. “You have no idea how much more at ease I feel.” He looked ahead to where the steps of Robinsford Abbey waited for them. “I am glad you are coming to visit Beth today. She has been melancholy, and you always bring cheer to Robinsford Abbey.”

“Do I? I had not thought I brought anything with me today but a bundle of leaves.”

“You do.” His gaze was steady, and it seemed as if he might say more, but he turned suddenly to attend to some trifle on his horse.

After an awkward series of half-sentences and pauses, he and Jane managed to find a comfortable footing for conversation and finished with the pleasantries that were necessary to satisfy both that nothing untoward had happened.