“We don’t have to follow the sixteenth century pattern too closely,” Arthur said. The underlying thread of humour was back in his voice. “I don’t think Robert Dudley did too well out of it either. He might have been loaded with money and titles but he didn’t get to marry Elizabeth, and his enemies used Amy’s death as a stick to beat him with for the rest of his life. I came across a particularly cutting epitaph to him the other day.” He took a breath and quoted wryly: “Here lies the constant husband whose love was as firm as smoke.”

“Ouch,” Lizzie said. “That’s harsh but probably deserved.”

Silence fell. The peace of The High seemed to flow around them, soft and timeless. Perry, curled up at Lizzie’s feet, twitched in a dog dream.

“I hope he’ll get on with Charlie and Lola,” Arthur said, looking at Perry. “My dogs,” he added, smiling at Lizzie. “I’m sure he will.” He stirred. “I want to finish this, Lizzie,” he said. “Once and for all. I want to be sure it’s over.”

“You mean the recurring pattern of Amy’s death,” Lizzie said cautiously, “not...”

Arthur looked horrified. He reached across the table and took her hands in his. “No! God no. Sorry. No, not us.” He smiled at her. “We’ve only just begun,” he said softly. “But I don’t want us, or Johnny, or anyone else’s life overshadowed by this again. We have to end it now.”

Lizzie nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this,” she said. “Now the truth is out that Anna killed Amelia, Amy Robsart’s spirit may be appeased and the curse broken. In every other instance the truth was hushed up—Amy’s death, and Amyas Latimer, and Amethyst Green...” She tightened her grip on Arthur’s hands. “And Jenna,” she said. “We don’t know exactly what happened to all of them,” she said, “and probably we never will. The story was similar but different every time, but now at least the truth is free.”

She stood up, pulling Arthur to his feet too. “I have an idea,” she said. “I need to talk to Avery and I need a little time.” She reached up and kissed him. “Come back tomorrow,” she said.

Arthur put his arms about her and joy swept through her, wrapping itself around her heart. It felt good.

“I’ll go,” he said, kissing her again. “But I will be back.”

“For a crazy, mixed-up girl you never wanted to get involved with,” Lizzie said. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Arthur...”

“Hey...” Arthur brushed away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “We can do this.”

“Yes,” Lizzie said. Her fragile heart was just starting to believe it. “I’m used to being on my own,” she cautioned. “I’m not good at relationships. It was always easier to manage by myself. I guess—” she swallowed hard “—perhaps I never felt that lovable.”

“I’ll show you that you are,” Arthur promised. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Besides, you have Jules and Avery and Johnny as well as me.” He nodded to the snoring dog. “And Perry, of course.”