I slept poorly and woke early with a headache, so I rose and went to the window for air. It was crisp and pure, very different from the muggy, heavy air of London. I breathed it in eagerly. A murmur of voices made me look down. My husband was up and dressed for riding. He was talking to a man I had not seen before. From his clothes he didn't appear to be a servant, but he was not quite a gentleman either. Hardley held out something, which rapidly changed hands. A tenant asking for help? Both strode off in opposite directions. On the face of it there was nothing to wonder about particularly, yet something furtive in their demeanour made me feel there was more to the transaction than appeared on the surface. It was nothing to do with me of course. At least, I hoped it was not. 
  Louisa was a...

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