Just before the bridge and the station, he turned into a narrow side canal. “I think we can reach your convent from here,” he said. “Let me see if I can find a place to tie up.”

“You shouldn’t come with me,” I said. “Someone might see.”

“What could be more suitable than a man making sure that a woman gets home safely?” He eased the boat to the side of the canal where there were some seaweed-covered steps and tied a rope to the railing before jumping out. He took my hand and helped me up. Then we walked into the darkness of a narrow alleyway. Only one street lamp shone at the far end. Leo still held firmly on to my hand.

“May I kiss you?” he asked. “I should like to say goodbye properly.”

“I think saying goodbye properly would involve shaking hands.” I gave a shaky laugh.

“Well then, I should like to say goodbye improperly.” He laughed, too.

And without waiting, he took my chin in his fingers and drew me towards him. His kiss was incredibly gentle—the merest brushing of his lips against mine. He moved away, looking at me almost angrily, then suddenly grabbed my shoulders, pulled me close and kissed me again. This time his mouth was demanding, crushing against mine, and I didn’t try to resist. I could feel his heart thudding against mine through the flimsy dress.

At last we broke apart.

“I should go. I can’t be late.” I found it hard to get the words out. I had a horrible suspicion that I might cry if this went on any longer, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

He nodded. “Yes, you should go. I should go, too. Goodbye, Julietta. I hope you have a beautiful life.”

“And you too, Leo.”

He nodded, reached out to put two fingers on to my lips, then walked away at a great pace.

“Back in good time, I see, Miss Browning,” Miss Frobisher said as I entered the room.

“Yes.”

“A successful evening, I hope?”

“Very pleasant. I heard the updates on his family, and the meal was delicious.” I turned away and stared out of the window into the blackness of the street beyond.

CHAPTER 11

Caroline, England, October 2001

“I must need my head examined,” Caroline muttered as she stared at the clothes she had laid out on her bed. She had taken holiday leave from work, moved in with her grandmother in time for Aunt Lettie’s funeral, helped her to go through her great-aunt’s things. In truth there was not much either of them wanted to keep. The clothes were hopelessly old-fashioned and too large for Granny. There were indeed a couple of good pieces of jewellery from Victorian times—a gold brooch studded with small diamonds and a heavy gold bracelet, neither of them Caroline’s taste. “I suggest we sell these if you don’t want them,” Caroline said.