Her lips parted and, with a shuddering breath, they kissed with a force that sent bolts of lightning shooting through his body. She pressed against him as he slid the flimsy nightgown from her shoulders, letting himself drown in the sweet taste of her mouth.

It took a monumental effort to break away, to step back, his body aching with desire. ‘Not here.’ His breath came in gasps as if he had been running. ‘I’m not Richard Barnwell. I said I would make it right for you, and I will.’

She pulled her nightgown back over her shoulders and ran a hand across her mouth, as she cast a glance at the door to Netty’s bedroom.

‘Go,’ she said, her voice as ragged as his. ‘We will talk later.’

He picked up his hat from where he had left it on the kitchen table beside a half-drunk cup of tea he had been toying with while he had talked to Netty only a short time earlier.

‘Patients,’ he said. ‘I have patients.’

At the door he stopped to snatch a last kiss, hearing Adelaide’s soft laugh as she shut the door behind him.

Adelaide sat at the kitchen table, resting her elbows on the scrubbed wooden surface. Every nerve in her body still tingled and she touched her lips. They sang at the memory of Caleb’s kiss. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, as if the scent of the man still lingered over the smell of recently baked bread. A bubble of pure happiness gathered in her chest and spilled over in a gurgle of laughter. She laid her head on her arms and let the warmth of the moment run through her.

A door creaked open and she straightened, biting her lip to retain a straight face as a bleary-eyed Netty peered at her from beneath dishevelled hair.

‘Are you all right?’ Netty croaked.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,’ Adelaide said.

Netty squinted at the kitchen clock. ‘It’s ten in the morning and you’re not even dressed,’ she chided.

‘I know. It’s shameful.’

‘What’s got into you?’ Netty cast an anxious look in the direction of Danny’s room. ‘Is Danny all right?’

‘Danny’s as well as can be expected. He’s sleeping.’ She stood and pushed her wayward hair behind her ear, sobered by the thought of how close she had come to losing her son. How she still might have lost him.

‘I must thank Lin,’ Adelaide said, picking up the basin that still sat on the table. She lifted it to her nose and sniffed, pulling a face. ‘How did you get Danny to drink this?’

‘He was too sick to protest.’ Netty shrugged. ‘And don’t try to change the subject. Something’s happened …’

Adelaide grasped her friend by the arms. ‘Netty, am I mad? Despite everything, do you think I really can marry the man I love?’