did not question him any further but the two friends continued to talk contently into the morning hours. It did not matter what they discussed, only that they were pleased to have the opportunity to talk without the constraint or consideration of anyone else.

Over the next week Fotherby felt that his months in London had been little more than a dream, for he felt he had never been away from this place. Lady Barrington was as perfect as Portland had painted her and while she was pleased to see Fotherby, she had confined herself almost entirely to her room, appearing only for dinner or supper. Fotherby would go walking out with Cassandra most days, while Harris had taken to visiting the taverns in the nearby villages in a hope to drown his boredom.

The following Sunday awoke with a peculiar mist t...

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