Netty left Adelaide and crossed the road to join the silent crowd as Amos turned his horses into the main street, bringing them to a halt outside the hotel. Men doffed their hats as if the coach carried Bowen’s body, instead of the young Italian couple who almost fell from the carriage the moment it stopped to be enveloped into a large, noisy crowd of friends and relations. The third passenger took his time to disembark, waiting for Amos to pull down the steps.

Adelaide saw no more than the man’s shadowy figure as he stepped onto the boardwalk on the far side of the coach. He appeared to adjust his hat and his head moved from left to right, taking in his surroundings. An imperious voice demanded, ‘My box, man. Now.’

For a heart-stopping moment, time stood still.

Surely not?

Unable to move, Adelaide stared at the coach, still surrounded by anxious townspeople clamouring for confirmation of Dr Bowen’s death, but their voices were dimmed by the hammering of her heart.

Netty, standing by the horses’ heads feeding carrots to Mac, looked up as the man spoke again. This time his words did not carry across the road. The carrots Netty held in her outstretched hand fell to the ground. Her horrified gaze went from the man who had just spoken to Adelaide.

Adelaide covered her mouth with her hands to stop herself crying out as Netty came flying across the road, all thoughts of Amos forgotten. She took Adelaide by the forearms and almost shook her in her excitement.

‘It’s—’ she began

‘No!’ Mindful of the people around her, the word came out as a fierce whisper.

Richard Barnwell had drowned in a shipwreck ten years ago. Everything she had done had been in the belief that he had died. He could not be standing in the main street of Maiden’s Creek.

‘I’m telling you, it is. A little older and heavier, but it’s him. He looked straight at me but he didn’t recognise me. How could I forget? How could you forget?’

‘I haven’t forgotten.’

Netty’s eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘Shall I fetch him for you?’

Adelaide thrust her friend through the door and slammed it shut, turning the key in the lock. She leaned against its reassuring solidity, her heart hammering beneath her stays.

Netty stared at her. ‘Why not?’

‘Not now, Netty, not like this. I need time to think.’

Netty frowned and put her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t understand. You should be pleased.’

‘I don’t know what I’m feeling,’ Adelaide pressed her hand to her heart. ‘I don’t feel anything.’

‘You can’t hide. He’ll find you soon enough. Even if he is asking for Adelaide Lewis, you’re the only Adelaide in this town and people will point him to the post office. I don’t understand. Don’t you want to see him?’