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Instead of a coin, Drew handed Timmy an iced bun he had bought from a baker. The young street sweep grinned his thanks for the sweet, sticky gift.

The sun seemed brighter today, the sky bluer and the grass greener, because Drew was hopelessly in love with his wife.

Loving her this morning had been divine.

He was a new man, a man who would love her as she deserved.

As she loved him.

She did. Still. Her emotions were in her eyes this morning while they made love. Her heart had been broken by his actions, but she had forgiven him.

He would apologise to her family. He needed them on his side to make this work. Surely, they would stop objecting if they knew he loved her. Perhaps he ought to stand up in the middle of the lion’s den and tell them all they were wrong, that he did love Mary and it had never just been because of her money. He tipped his hat to Joseph who was speaking with another resident.

He laughed as he ran upstairs, and swung around the banister onto the landing. The world was a good place with Mary in it. Caro would be proud of him.

He turned the door handle but it was locked. He pulled the key from the pocket of his riding coat, slotted it into the lock and opened the door. ‘Mary…’ The room was different; her writing desk had gone.

She would not have left… They made love…

He turned to the bedchamber. Everything of hers had gone, apart from the dent hollowed in the pillow where she had slept, and where…

Why did she let me do it?

He walked to the bed, picked up her pillow and held it to his face, smelling the scent of her hair.

She left.

There was nothing he could do. It was over.

He went to the decanter and poured himself a drink to numb the pain that clasped at his heart. The neck of the decanter chimed against the rim of the glass as his hand shook.

Nausea twisted in his gut as he drank the brandy like water.

What had the sex this morning been about? A goodbye gift?

He drank a second glass. Then poured a third and faced the room.

A letter stood balanced among the chess pieces.

His heart dropped like a ton weight. He crossed the room and picked it up.

For her to have cleared out so quickly, her exit must have been arranged with Pembroke’s help.

Then why the hell had she let him touch her this morning? He thought this morning was a new beginning, not the end.

He was only worth a couple of sentences of hurried script.

I cannot stay. I have lied to my parents for you since I met you. I cannot carry on living with lies.

Goodbye.

Mary

This morning had been the worst lie of all. She clung to him and came for him… when she could not have wanted him.

Hell! He was an ass. His soul writhed with pain. But a broken heart did not kill a man. It only made him bitter.

He crumpled the paper in his fist and tossed it into the empty hearth. Then dropped into a chair and held his head in his hands.

There would be no happy ending to his life.

It is your own fault. You should have left her alone. You are poisonous! Let her be now, for God’s sake. You have done enough harm.

Tears flooded his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. He was not a man who cried.

He threw himself back in the chair, tipping back his head, trying to release the pain thrashing in his chest.

If this was how she felt these last weeks, no wonder she had gone.

Devil take it! Crying for her, or burying his sorrows in a glass, would change nothing. He sniffed and wiped his cheeks and nose on his handkerchief. He must sell the carriage and the blacks he bought for her and go to the bank.