He cleared his throat and for a fleeting moment his features softened. ‘I believe Barnwell had indicated that he intended to ask for your hand on his return from America. I know you had formed a tendresse for him and I liked young Barnwell, but you are only seventeen and I would not have given my consent to such a match. Marriage is not about love—’ Sir Daniel cast her a hard look. ‘I have other plans for you, my girl. You’re not settling for any third sons when you could be a countess.’

Adelaide forced herself to meet her father’s hard eyes, searching for a chink of weakness, some indication that he truly cared for her, but she met only the impenetrable armour that had enabled Daniel Lewis to become one of the wealthiest and most successful shipping magnates in England.

‘You can dismiss my heart so readily, Papa? I wish I could do likewise.’

‘There will be other men, better prospects.’

Adelaide looked at her hands, still clutching the table, the knuckles white. She couldn’t tell him, couldn’t admit to the foolish moment of weakness, the naivety of two people who had fancied themselves in love and gone that step too far. Now Richard was dead, and the lacings of her corset would not conceal her shame for much longer.

Her father indicated the telegram with an exasperated wave of his hand. ‘A cargo lost. Nothing for it. I need to go to London to talk with the insurers.’

‘What about the crew and their families?’ Adelaide ventured.

‘I daresay I shall now be beset with pleas for compensation. I’ll pay the men’s wages for the voyage, if that’s what concerns you.’ He pulled his watch from his waistcoat and consulted it. ‘I will catch the eleven-fifteen train. Do not expect me back before week’s end.’

Adelaide took a deep shuddering breath and straightened. ‘Very well. If you will excuse me, Papa.’

But his attention had already turned back to the telegram from his Savannah agent. At the door, Adelaide gave her unloving father one last look.

Only when she reached the sanctuary of her bedchamber did her stiff resolve give way. She fell, howling, into the arms of her maid, sobbing out the dire news about the Evangeline and the loss of Richard Barnwell. She had no secrets from Netty Redley. Netty had been with her since childhood and had realised the horrible truth even before Adelaide.

‘What are we to do, Miss Adelaide?’ Netty ventured when the tears at last subsided.

Adelaide dashed at her swollen eyes. ‘I can’t stay. You know what he will do when he finds out that I am with child. Remember cousin Edith?’

Netty’s mouth tightened and she nodded.