He broke into a surprised cough. “Yes, that, too. One night we went to dinner and Essie claimed I was impolite to a waiter. She never could stand people who looked down on others. She was right, of course, and I apologized...and somehow I found myself proposing.” He stared out of the window and thought for a long time. “I think I knew, even then, that she didn’t love me. Not in the way I loved her. She admired the writers I published, my age and experience, living with me in London. But it wasn’t enough. There was always a part of her locked away that I couldn’t reach. I wondered if there was someone else.” His eyes glinted with sadness. “We drifted apart and divorced on our sixth anniversary. Essie claimed I stifled her. We had differing ideas about the direction of her career.”

“About Georgia Rory?”

“Ah, yes, Ms. Rory,” he said with a sniff. “Essie was more than capable of pushing her boundaries as a writer but refused to expand her horizons. She said readers saw themselves in Georgia, and she did, too. I admit it was something I kept pressing her to reconsider. One day I arrived home and she’d gone.” He pursed his lips and looked out of the window again before continuing. “She always had a strange habit of vanishing, and this time it was for good.”

She did it even back then? Liv thought. Where did she go to?

“When Essie makes up her mind to pursue something there’s no going back,” Ted said. “I hoped we could keep our professional relationship going, but then she signed up with an agent and Peregrine. At the time, I thought she was extremely ungrateful. Our relationship was difficult for a long time afterward. She didn’t appreciate that without me there would be no Essie Starling.”

The car hit a bump in the road and Liv’s teeth clanked together.

Up until his last sentence, she had been warming to Ted. He was a little pompous and stilted, but taking the credit for Essie’s work wasn’t fair. Liv couldn’t keep her feelings to herself, no matter who he was. “Essie got her first publishing deal without you,” she said fiercely. “Her talent shone through. You said it yourself. You tried to stop her writing what she loved.”

Ted looked rather shocked. He resettled himself in his seat, took off his scarf and folded it. “I suppose you’re right,” he said eventually. “Essie has always been her own woman, and that’s why I adored her. If she wants something she goes for it and no one can stop her. It’s been ten years since we last spoke and I miss her greatly. I often wonder how she is.”