do you not think?’
Jenny glanced at Adam, who was silent and frowning.
‘I think it must have been someone Mark did not know well,’ Paul said thoughtfully. ‘For some reason he was obliged to sit down with him, though what happened we shall never know.’
‘Unless Hallam comes up with some clues,’ Adam put in.
‘Can you not speak of anything else?’ Lucy asked, her nerves clearly fraying. ‘We are going to Bath very soon. At least there I shall have some pleasant conversation.’
She walked off as if in some distress. Jenny shot a look of apology at the two gentlemen.
‘Lucy cannot bear to talk of it,’ she explained. ‘I should not have asked. Excuse me, I must follow her.’
‘Jenny...’ Adam said as she began to walk after her friend. ‘I wanted to tell you that I am going down to my grandfather’s estate in Cornwall. I shall be gone some days—so when I see you again it will be in Bath.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Jenny fought to keep her smile in place. ‘We shall of course look forward to seeing you there. I dare say Lucy will be in a better humour by then.’
‘She is entitled to be angry,’ Paul said. ‘Mark should be alive and planning his wedding. When I catch that devil he will wish he’d never been born.’ He turned his horse and rode off as if pursued by all the demons in hell.
‘Paul, too, is out of sorts,’ Adam said. ‘I assure you he is not normally this touchy.’
He got down from his horse and stood looking at her. Jenny felt her spine tingle for the look in his eyes was so intense that it seemed to burn her. She felt her insides melting with longing and looked away.
‘I think no one could remain unaffected by what has happened,’ Jenny said. ‘It will be much better for Lucy when we are in Bath. Here she is reminded at every turn. People come every day to pay their respects and she is obliged to thank them and listen to their professions of sorrow. It is not what one needs at such times. I found the sympathy of others hard to bear after Papa died.’
‘Your father’s death was caused by a driving accident?’
‘It appeared so,’ Jenny frowned. ‘I have never been certain. I know he lost a large sum of money shortly before his death.’
‘You do not think he took his own life?’
‘No, that is not at all what I think.’ Jenny drew a deep breath. ‘I think something happened—something similar to what happened to Paul yesterday, but Papa was not so lucky. His neck was broken in the fall and he died instantly...so they tell me. I am led to believe he did not suffer.’
Jenny’s eyes had filled with tears. She blinked them away, brushing her cheeks with her hand.
‘Forgive me, I should not have asked.’
Adam came towards her, offering his hand. He touched her cheek, which must be pale, and her hands trembled. She allowed it for a moment and then flinched away.
His touch aroused feelings quite unsuitable to the situation. He meant only to comfort, she knew, but she trembled inwardly and wished that he would take her into his arms. It seemed that a fire had begun to rage inside her. She wanted to be held close to his chest, to feel the brush of his lips against her hair—if she were truthful, to be kissed. No, no, it was too foolish of her!
‘I thought I was quite over it,’ Jenny said, determined to remain calm and not disgrace herself by revealing her longings, ‘but my aunt and uncle were so practical. They accepted it was an accident and...’ She shook her head. If she told him what her uncle had done—selling all her father’s possessions unnecessarily—she would have to tell him that she was not the penniless companion he thought her. Her instinct was always to tell the truth, but she could not find the words to confess it—and it would not do to raise hopes of a fortune when she had no idea how much she actually had.
‘Tears for a loved one never hurt,’ Adam said and smiled down at her. His eyes seemed to caress her, then he bent his head and kissed her. It was a sweet gentle kiss that called the heart from her body and made her want to melt into him, to be his in every way.
‘Adam...’ she murmured. ‘I think...’
He seemed to recall himself and frowned. ‘Forgive me, I should not have done that. It was wrong of me. I had no right. I can never...’
‘Never...’ She looked up at him, trying to understand why he had withdrawn so suddenly when his body seemed to call to hers.
‘My situation is intolerable,’ Adam said and turned away, a nerve flicking at his temple. ‘I am hoping I may discover some way of rescuing my grandfather from his problems. The mine played out its copper seams years ago, but perhaps some other use may be found for the land. I must see what I can do, because the alternative is unthinkable.’
‘I hope you find something,’ Jenny said. ‘It must be difficult for you.’
‘Difficult is not the word I should use.’ Adam seemed to glare down at her, clearly in some distress. ‘Excuse me, I should go after Paul before he breaks his foolish neck—and you should go to Lucy. I dare say she is in tears.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Jenny tried not to show her hurt as he remounted his horse, hardly looking at her. He had kissed her as if he meant it, but now he’d withdrawn behind a barrier of ice. She inclined her head politely. ‘I am glad to have seen you again before we leave, sir. I wish you good fortune.’
‘I shall need it,’ he said ruefully, then turned his horse and set out after Paul at a canter.
Jenny blinked hard as he rode away. For a moment he had seemed to promise so much, but then he’d withdrawn from her. She would be foolish to let herself hope that he would offer her more than friendship. She must not expect it or let herself think of it!
Yet she had thought of it. Was she wrong to think that he liked her as much as she liked him? Or was that simply wishful thinking—a longing for the kind of happiness she’d never known?
Jenny saw Lucy some little distance ahead and ran to catch her up. As Adam had forecast she was crying, dabbing at her cheeks with a scrap of lace kerchief.
‘Paul did not mean to upset you,’ Jenny said. ‘They think only of catching that man—and of punishing him.’
‘I wish they may do so,’ Lucy said angrily. ‘Why will Paul not look at me? It is as if he blames me for what happened to his brother.’
‘No, how could he?’ Jenny was caught by her strange expression. ‘I thought you blamed him for it?’
Lucy’s voice caught on a sob. ‘Paul would never...but now he will not speak to me or look at me. If he catches me looking at him, he scowls as if he hated me.’
‘I am certain he does not,’ Jenny said and put an arm about her waist. ‘I think he is in so much pain that he scarcely knows what to think.’
‘Even when he was thrown from his horse he would not look at me,’ Lucy said. ‘We all heard the shot. We know that someone tried to hurt, perhaps to kill him—but yesterday
