Richard shot Adelaide a quick glance. ‘No, I have some business to conclude.’

‘Well, if you are wishing advice, my husband, Mr Jervis, is manager of the Bank of Victoria and would be delighted to assist you.’

‘Thank you, madam. I shall bear that in mind.’

With a sniff and a last, lingering glance at Richard, the little woman left the post office, shutting the door behind her with a thump that set the bell jangling.

Safe behind her counter, Adelaide looked up at Richard, her composure regained.

‘I can’t talk now,’ she said. ‘My job comes first. I close the post office at five. Come then.’

Richard’s gaze swept the room, coming back to rest on her face. ‘You shouldn’t be doing this.’

‘And what should I be doing?’ she snapped. ‘Sitting in a fancy drawing room, dispensing tea and cucumber sandwiches? That’s not how my life turned out, Richard.’

‘Adelaide—’

The door jangled again.

‘Thank you, Mr Barnwell, we will talk about this matter later,’ Adelaide said, her tone crisp and professional. Fixing a smile on her face, she greeted her new customer.

When Adelaide closed the post office, she found Richard already installed in her parlour, inspecting her bookshelf, with Netty hovering in the door to the kitchen. A pot of tea and slices of Netty’s latest cake were laid out on the table.

The two women exchanged glances and Netty returned to the kitchen, removing her apron. At Adelaide’s request she had collected Danny from school and sent him on an errand to the Chinese gardens. Adelaide did not want Danny to meet this stranger—yet.

Richard turned to face her, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Her heart jerked. She had forgotten his smile.

She indicated for Richard to sit at the table and, as if she were hosting him in her father’s well-appointed drawing room, poured him tea and served him cake. The familiar domestic movements calmed her and only when she held the tea cup in her hand did she raise her eyes to his once more.

‘What do we say to each other, Richard?’ she asked. ‘Where do we start?’

His answer surprised her. ‘Why did you run away?’

‘Because …’ She took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘When the news came that your ship had been lost, I was carrying your child. I thought you were dead. You know my father, you know what would have become of me if I had stayed.’

Richard set his tea down on the table. The cup rattled in the saucer, slopping liquid. His nervousness gave her courage. ‘Addy, why didn’t you tell me about the baby?’