Davey . . . The name brought with it the familiar feeling of guilt and self-reproach that had plagued her since she had admitted her attraction to Alexander Bembridge. She had never felt such fierce desire for Davey, never trembled at the thought of him or ached to see him. Theirs had been a comfortable, gentle kind of loving, at least on her part. Nothing like the feeling she had for Alexander, which only confirmed she had been right to send him away and make it plain she wanted no contact with him in the future. Alexander would possess her mind, spirit and body, she sensed it. It made no difference that they had never even kissed or had any contact of the flesh; what she felt for him was as raw and powerful as if they had known each other all their lives. It was dangerous; it would turn her into someone she had no intention of becoming.

She pressed her fingers to the sides of her temples as though she could force the thoughts away, those weakening thoughts that took charge of her mind the same way he would take charge of the whole of her if she was stupid enough to succumb to the temptation he represented. But she wouldn’t. She let her hands drop to her sides. No, she wouldn’t. She wanted none of it. She hadn’t imagined she could be more frightened of anyone than Nathaniel, but meeting Alexander had shown her there were different kinds of fear.

A tapping at the shop window brought her snapping out of the whirling darkness and she came through from the rear of the building to see Amy and Frank, with Betsy between them, standing outside grinning. A rush of thankfulness for Amy cleared her head. She had never had a friend like her before, someone of her own sex who was there for her one hundred per cent and would do anything for her, no matter what was going on in their own life. Betsy adored her ‘Auntie Amy’ too, and she and Frank, Amy’s parents, and Daisy and her family, had become their extended family, family they could rely on.

Life was good. As she walked to the door of the shop and unlocked it she nodded mentally to the thought. Yes, life was good and as long as she didn’t let herself harbour thoughts about Alexander Bembridge, she could see it was only going to get better.