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‘I’m numb,’ she admitted. Furrows wrinkled her forehead and she shook her head slowly as if trying to make sense of it. ‘I’m also dim. It was staring me in the face and yet I couldn’t see it. Such treachery . . . I can’t imagine ever feeling more betrayed.’ She swallowed a sob.

He closed a hand over hers. ‘You know how we feel about each other?’

She didn’t answer but he knew she was paying attention.

‘That’s how they feel. I’m sure you can accept that Matthew does love you – I suppose like I love Bethany – and that he wouldn’t ever wish to hurt you, but the danger of discovery is too terrifying, the love he has for Feeney equally overwhelming. He’s as trapped as you.’

She groaned her distress.

‘Alex, with you he found genuine friendship. Feeney says he’s jealous of you at times, not so much that you have Matthew but that he enjoys your company so much.’

‘That’s very cold comfort, Harry.’

‘Of course it is, and you’re in shock, so it’s understandable that you can’t make a lot of sense of this. You need some quiet time. Maybe stay with Charlotte or rent somewhere for a while – go to Scotland, have some space to work it all out and find some balance so you can view it all a fraction more objectively.’

‘It’s hard to be objective when I know he set out on a mission to woo me with a hidden agenda to hide his double life behind our marriage!’

‘This is trauma speaking, Alex. Matthew can’t help it.’

‘I can’t believe you’re defending him,’ she breathed, her anger flashing bright in her eyes despite the low light of the railway kiosk. ‘I can’t be rational about this.’

‘Well, you must try, especially if you’re going to survive it and keep your family name from being dragged through the mire. Perhaps you might view it this way. You can’t help being beautiful, can you, in the same way that you can’t help wanting to work with chocolate? It’s not an ailment, it’s not even a condition, it’s not a state of mind . . . it’s simply who you are, am I right?’

Harry watched her let out a silent breath. ‘Yes. I can’t imagine being any other way. As for beauty, that’s for others to judge. I don’t dwell on it.’

‘Fair enough, but your looks, pretty or plain, are yours whether you like them or not, agreed? You don’t choose the colour of your eyes, or hair, the set of your mouth, the shape of your ears?’

She nodded miserably. ‘So?’

His voice softened further.

‘I don’t think we choose whom we love either. We choose whom to spend our lives with, we choose whom we marry, who our friends are, but love . . . that’s not under our control, or I would not be regretting coming to York.’

‘Do you?’

‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Because now my life will be a constant regret.’

‘Matthew will never grant me a divorce. He made that plain.’

‘Don’t hurry any decision. This needs time to sink in and for you to consider your position. I told you all this so that you don’t walk around constantly asking the universe what you’ve done wrong in your marriage. It was a sham from his proposal . . . from the way he set out to court you and trap you.’

‘I made it easy. I was looking for a way out of a forced marriage.’

‘At least I can leave knowing your husband will never physically hurt you, never see you go without . . .’ Harry held up a hand. ‘I know it’s not enough, but there are worse marriages, Alex.’

‘Like the one you’re headed towards?’

It was his turn to shrug. ‘It will be similar. Affectionate, mostly well-suited companions.’

‘Except in all the areas that matter,’ she finished for him and he nodded sadly. ‘Do you have to leave tonight?’

‘No, but I have to leave, Alex.’

‘Stay another evening. I can’t bear the thought of you gone.’

‘It’s not as though we can see one another.’

‘I’ll find a way, I promise.’