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‘I certainly wasn’t thinking that clearly yesterday,’ Charles admitted. ‘Chetwin leapt at the first option that protected his son – and yes, the family name – from the besmirch of prison or worse . . . and even Giles here has admitted that such creative thinking would have eluded him. When Harry came to me at the club my mind went into a whirl of pain for both our families. I think he realised almost instantly what would occur if it got out; I also took too long to believe it and probably barely listened to his rationale, but when he asked my permission to set things in motion behind whatever was about to land on Matthew’s shoulders, I realised he was trying to protect our family . . . protect you especially. You must thank Harry, darling, from all of us, for such a good turn.’

‘Why didn’t he say?’ she bleated. ‘Why didn’t he tell me! Why did he leave here letting me think that Matthew’s incarceration was his fault?’

‘Darling, I’m not sure what you’re upset about but Harry Blakeney is a modest fellow. In my brief conversations with him I don’t believe I’ve heard him trumpet himself once. I looked into him, you know, he’s a bally war hero! Quite the dashing captain but you wouldn’t know it to talk to him – won’t be drawn on the war, won’t be drawn on his family name or wealth. Damnably reticent, in fact.’

Giles joined the enthusiasm. ‘Either way, Mr Blakeney has come up with a clever way of getting Matthew out of Bootham and into the compassionate freedom of York Retreat and all of it without stirring up too much gossip and rumour for the families. To all intents and purposes, Matthew could be in the hospital merely recuperating from an illness, so the families need to put their heads together on this and settle on an explanation. Um, Alex, I suspect you’ll be asking for a divorce?’

‘I shall.’ She glanced at her father, who looked down but didn’t shy away.

‘That’s to be expected,’ Charles admitted. ‘Your mother and I are obviously fully behind you in this but it needs to be done quietly, darling, and perhaps not immediately.’

‘Does Matthew understand?’

Giles nodded. ‘I was permitted to speak with him this morning, briefly. At first he was extremely reluctant to talk about the subject but your father explained that it required your signature to get him moved out of Bootham and into the York Retreat and that only his agreement to divorce would suffice.’

‘On what grounds?’

‘Nothing that reflects on you,’ Giles confirmed. ‘We can sort that out and he has agreed to consider it.’

‘How long will he have to stay at the Retreat under care?’

Giles shrugged. ‘That I can’t confirm. A crime has been committed in the eyes of the law so we have to respect that – as it is it’s going to require a panel of magistrates to get him released from the asylum but if we tread with care I don’t see anyone getting in our way. However, I suspect he’ll need to be under supervision at the Retreat for several months. But that’s a small price to pay, Alex. I’m sure you agree.’

She’d begun to regain her equanimity. ‘I do. I’m just taken aback that Harry didn’t share his plan.’

‘You were deeply upset, darling. There probably wasn’t the occasion – after all, you didn’t see him once it all went pear-shaped.’ Alex didn’t correct him. ‘You can share your gratitude at another time, surely?’ her father soothed.

‘He’s gone, Dad. Don’t you see? Gone, for good.’

Her father’s brow crinkled. ‘Not for good, darling girl. Don’t be so dramatic. Harry’s a good sort. He’ll be back – he’s a family friend now. We can telephone, you can write – plenty of opportunity to thank him properly when we see him again . . . perhaps he’ll bring his wife back with him.’

Alex couldn’t admit it aloud but there wouldn’t be a repeat visit. She wouldn’t see Harry again. And meeting Bethany – not that she wanted to – seemed as likely as Matthew easily agreeing to divorce.

Later, after the two men had left her and she was alone in her bedroom, she finally sat down at her dressing table and reached for the sealed envelope that Harry had scrawled her name across. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to open it last night, although the moonlight had slanted in to illuminate it, as though it were embarrassed for the way she was ignoring it, encouraging her to attend to it.

The flap of the envelope snapped up at the pressure of her finger and she took out a small, neatly folded single sheet of paper. She expected writing, an outpouring of emotion, but she should have known better. This was Harry, after all: a man who kept his emotions hidden and who spoke only when it was needed. What she found on the paper was a simple drawing in pencil with arrows and tiny written instructions in tidy block capitals.

Harry had drawn the two halves of a heart shape. One arrow pointed to where he recommended they might join and he’d printed: Suggest seal here with liquid chocolate.

Inside one of the halves of the heart was depicted a tiny card, like a calling card. Another arrow pointed to this with the words:

Customers can write a brief message to the one they love at the time of purchase before it is sealed inside, unseen even by you. Wrap complete heart with its love note in foil.

You could call it ‘The Sweetheart’.

She turned over the page and there was a final note from him.

Darling Alex,

It appears that dear Kitty, whoever she is, and who unwittingly brought us together through her random love letter to a soldier at the Front, has inspired an idea for a new chocolate novelty you may consider. I’ve looked into it and none of the major manufacturers or fancy chocolatiers have used hollow chocolate shapes to enclose anything other than fondant centres. I can’t imagine a woman who wouldn’t be anything but enchanted by a love note enclosed in a Frobisher edible heart. I see no reason why you couldn’t take the idea further to enclose actual gifts . . . even an engagement ring springs to mind!

She gasped with awe at the inspiration of this notion. It was perfect.

Talking of rings and hearts, I wish I could give you a ring to wear in my name but that’s not to be. Instead I leave you with my heart – it will never belong to anyone else and every time you make one of these in chocolate, think of me because I’ll always be thinking of you, wherever I am, whomever I’m with.

Harry

P.S. Matthew will be safe. I give you my word.