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‘Why not?’

She dabbed at her eyes with her fingertips, sniffing again. ‘Because we had an arrangement; we didn’t promise each other this was love. We made a pact to make the very best partnership between two friends. It was always a masquerade. It’s me making the mistake of expecting him to behave like a loving and also dutiful husband in all respects. He said he would love me in his own way. It sounded odd at the time but I let it slide. I think it was Matthew trying his best to be honest with me, trying to convey that his form of love was not traditional, although I have no idea what I mean by saying that.’

He left her side, frowning, to pour some water. ‘Drink,’ he said, and after passing her the glass, whipped out his starched handkerchief. ‘Dry your cheeks.’

‘Thank you. I really am fine. I’ve told you far too much but I don’t have anyone to share this with. Given that you’ve kissed me, this is your punishment.’

‘Gladly taken,’ he assured. ‘Do you mind me asking if you have any proof of infidelity?’

She shook her head. ‘No. This is purely instinct. I know his wealth and his gregarious nature help him to make friends with the greatest of ease. Even you would like him, Harry.’

‘I have no time for fools.’

‘He’s no fool.’

‘Well, I’ll differ on that.’

She leaned forward and tipped her head to briefly brush a feather-light kiss on his mouth before she stood and returned his handkerchief. ‘Thank you.’ Alex deliberately put a few steps’ distance between them because she didn’t trust herself close to Harry any more. She began to push around some of the food on the platter to make it look appropriately disturbed and stacked the plates. ‘I’m told regularly I should consider myself one of the luckiest women in Britain. And yet I feel as though I’m the only person who can’t see it.’

‘What do they see?’ he asked.

‘They see a handsome man – if a fraction short – with a gilded tongue and a bank account to match. They see someone who has built himself as a popular figure in York, marrying first into a very well-established local family and taking out arguably one of the most eligible yet unenthusiastic-for-marriage spinsters in England. They experience charm and intelligence, wit and elegance. He’s well connected, stays at his clubs both here and in London and probably elsewhere, for all I know. He is helplessly likeable and he is never deliberately unkind. You have to understand that. When he’s here he’s attentive, funny, creates noise and gaiety; my parents adore him.’

‘But only you see the real Matthew, so what do you see?’

Alex shook her head slightly and frowned. ‘I think I am reminded of what my first impression of him was. My visceral response to him was one of sensing guile. I wanted to ignore it because he was so good to me . . .’ She shrugged. ‘He got me into Rowntree. Helped me to build my network, to believe in myself and my ability to go into business alone. I liked him, his wit and charm, his effortlessly sharp mind.’

‘And now you’re lonely?’

‘It’s not just loneliness. I’m confused. I’m feeling distantly humiliated. Matthew’s up to something and I should be able to see it but I can’t. I have no proof; I don’t find lipstick on his collar or women’s perfume on his clothes. There aren’t scented letters or clandestine phone calls . . .’

‘You’re sure he’s lying?’

‘No. I can’t be certain but I’m also not a dullard. Just now he told me he was at a club in London and setting up for a game of chess with one of my father’s friends. The thing is, it didn’t sound like he was setting up for chess. I heard boisterous laughter in the background; I heard an instrument tuning up. I think my dear husband was setting up in some different sort of club and not for chess.’ She shook her head in deep disappointment. ‘He treats me as though I’m extremely dim.’

They heard the doorbell chiming and Norma’s hurried footsteps.

‘Oh, quick, Harry. How do I look?’ She hurried to a small mirror on one of the walls.

He was behind her, put his hands on her shoulder and bent to kiss her neck softly to ignite sparkles of desire in a way she had not remembered feeling previously. Matthew had never been able to coax anything close to this response. ‘You look beautiful,’ Harry breathed before he stepped away and in a heartbeat was rearranged in the armchair, just as the door opened.

‘Mother, come in, come in from the cold,’ Alex gushed. ‘Thank you, Norma. Perhaps that coffee now. Hello, Dad,’ she said over the housekeeper’s shoulder.

Her parents bustled in, bringing smells of tobacco, violet toilet water and the slightly musty smell that arose from moisture on her mother’s fur coat. The cold draught chased them in, slipping into the room before Norma could shut the door on it.

‘Brr.’ Her mother shivered. ‘It’s freezing out. Oh, good evening. I’m Minerva Frobisher, Alex’s mother,’ she said, eyeing Harry as he stood to his impressive height.

‘Mother, this is Captain Harry Blake; he’s up from London, as I explained.’

‘Good evening, Lady Frobisher.’ Harry took her mother’s hand and Alex watched him smile into Minerva’s gaze before he looked to her father. ‘Hello, sir.’

‘Evening, Captain Blake.’

‘Harry’s fine, sir . . . and preferred.’

‘Your people are no relation to the Blakes of Dorset, are they? Huge tracts of farming land?’

‘No, sir.’