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Andrew had been solicitous every day since he arrived here. They rode horses about the grounds, talked and walked, and in the evenings, they played cards with Kate and John, or Andrew read a book to her, or he sat beside her and turned the music as she played the pianoforte and sang.

He was purchasing a property from John. It was nestled in woodland, halfway down a hill which dropped into a river valley. An old Tudor manor, with wooden beams forming a skeleton through red bricks. It was not large, but it was charming.

The house was his favourite topic of conversation. He talked about making it a home, and he was already learning about farming and estate management from John and his steward. One afternoon, he had ridden out to the farms that would become his and met the tenants and labourers.

Now, he was sitting in a chair that caught the sunlight from a long window, reading a newspaper, his shoulders relaxed and a smile on his lips. The Andrew she knew visible to John and Kate too.

Mary looked up from her needlework as a footman hurried into the room. He said something to Finch who then spoke up. ‘A carriage is approaching, Your Grace.’

John had Paul on his knee. He looked at the footman. ‘Is there a coat of arms on it?’

‘There is, Your Grace.’

John stood, lifting Paul to his hip. ‘Well, it appears we have a guest. Finch, would you ask the kitchen to be prepared and send for the nursery maid? I will go downstairs. Katherine, would you hold Paul until the maid comes?’

Andrew stood too. ‘May I join you?’ Mary knew he was wary of Lord Kilbride’s threats.

She put down her sewing and stood too, as John passed Paul to Katherine. ‘I shall come with you.’

John walked to the window as they heard the carriage and horses on the gravel near the house.

‘It is Uncle Richard’s insignia.’

Mary looked at Andrew, thinking what he was probably thinking – that her uncle would have news from London.

A few moments later, she walked across the gravel outside, as a footman put down the carriage step.

Richard climbed down. ‘John.’ Richard’s voice rang deep with formality. He looked at Andrew.

Mary held Andrew’s hand, knowing he would face another test.

‘How are things?’ Uncle Richard asked John.

‘Well,’ John answered.

‘Things are fine, Your Grace,’ Andrew said, as though he thought the question was code for and how do you find Lord Framlington … ‘Have you come all this way to ask that?’

John glanced across his shoulder, his expression asking Andrew for restraint. ‘Things are fine,’ he said to Uncle Richard. ‘When a certain person knows when to restrain his bravado. What has brought you here?’

‘I need to speak to Lord Framlington. May we go inside?’

Mary knew John had written to Uncle Richard and told him Andrew was here, and that he was innocent. Her uncle had not replied, and his expression said he did not trust John’s judgement.

Andrew’s fingers wrapped more firmly around her hand. He need not worry, she would not leave him to face this alone.

‘We will go up to the family drawing room,’ Kate said, from behind them. ‘I asked the kitchen to send up a tea tray.’

Uncle Richard lifted a hand, encouraging Andrew to lead the way.

Mary’s heart pounded.

What was this?

What new disaster?

In the drawing room, she sat, before she fell down, her legs were so wobbly. Andrew stood behind the chair, his palms resting on her shoulders.

Uncle Richard did not sit either. Nor did John.

‘What is it?’ Andrew asked, his voice a deep concerned pitch. ‘What charge have you against me now?’

‘It is a formal charge – of incest. I came to take you back to London. If the story you told Mary and John is true, then you must tell it to a magistrate. Your only other option is to flee the country, and I will not have that, for Mary’s sake. You must ask your sister to speak to the magistrate too.’

‘I will come with you, but I am not giving Kilbride a chance to catch Caro.’

‘You would face one man’s word against another, then, and you will risk hanging. All the evidence points to one conclusion. You at least need your sister to deny the accusation too.’

Andrew’s breath released as a sigh. ‘I will risk hanging anyway; her word may count for nothing, as I am sure you know, and I will not risk her.’

Mary’s hands touched those on her shoulders, as she looked up at him. ‘Andrew.’ Her voice begged him to do whatever her uncle asked.

‘I cannot do it,’ he told her. ‘I hid her alone; she has no one to protect her. If she came out of hiding and they did not believe either of us, Kilbride will kill her. I am happy to go with you, but I will not betray Caro. She is safe only as long as no one knows where she is.’

‘Lady Kilbride may come here,’ John said. ‘If you go to London, Andrew, I will fetch her. She can live here for as long as she wishes. You know she will be safe; you have seen how many servants I have. They can protect her. No one can come to the house without their knowing.’

Andrew hesitated. Mary was not sure he trusted John enough.

‘It is a good idea,’ her uncle said. ‘I am sure the magistrate would speak to her here, and Lady Kilbride would be safe whatever the outcome. Remember, this allegation is raised against her also.’

Andrew still did not agree, his eyes a deep sea of thoughts.

‘You trust me,’ she told him quietly. ‘I will go with John and persuade your sister to come here. She will be safe, and then she can speak for you.’

He let out a slow breath that sought to manage his emotions. ‘Very well, bring her here. I will give Mary the address and a letter from me, so she will know she is safe with you. But you must be watchful, John. She will be in danger.’

There was a knock at the drawing room door. ‘Tea, Your Grace.’

As Uncle Richard and John drank tea and ate cake with Katherine, Mary took Andrew up to her room to write his letter. He wrote the letter in front of her, in the script she knew. His friends might have come up with the words in his letters but he had written them.

When he finished, he blotted the ink, folded the paper and handed it to her.

‘It is addressed,’ he said. ‘Keep it safe.’

‘I will.’

He held her hand. ‘I hope this will be settled quickly. I should go now; the sooner I go, the sooner I will return.’ His smile offered reassurances he could not give.

She nodded, biting the tip of her tongue, trying not to cry, because tears would not help him. She must be strong for him.

‘Come on.’

He held her hand as they walked downstairs to the first-floor drawing room.

‘Framlington,’ her uncle said, acknowledging Andrew as they entered the room.

‘I am ready,’ Andrew said.

Ten minutes later, she stood on the steps beneath the massive stone portico, holding Andrew, his forehead resting against hers.

‘Goodbye,’ Mary said, her tears refusing to be restrained.

John and Kate stood beside them. Uncle Richard was waiting in the carriage.

Andrew wiped away her tears with his thumbs and kissed her fiercely for a short time. ‘I am coming back,’ he said. ‘I am sorry I dragged you into this muddle, but I do not regret helping Caro.’

‘I am glad you helped her. I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ he whispered back and kissed her again. ‘Goodbye,’ he said as he released her. Then he walked away and climbed into the carriage.

A footman closed the door.

He waved from the window as it pulled away. She held her hand high and waved until she could no longer see the carriage.

‘We should fetch Lady Kilbride immediately,’ John said.