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“And how would I do that?”

“By writing.”

“Hah, I haven’t written a word in weeks.”

“But you will. I will insist. I will bring you coffee every morning and demand a thousand words before you are permitted to leave our bed.”

“Our bed? You do get ahead of yourself.”

“We will be married first. In London, I think, from your aunt Louisa’s house.”

Viv was speechless. He spoke with such certainty and confidence as if he had arranged everything while her mind was struggling to catch up, consumed with questions and doubts. They reached the Esplanade with its grand hotels draped in England’s colors. The wide bay spread out before them, the ocean gray green, with little peaks glinting in the sun and waves lapping the shingle. To their right along the shore stood a long line of tall white-painted bathing machines waiting for swimmers. To the east the shore curved out to sea and rose to a grassy headland.

He pointed. “This morning I found a knoll with a nice prospect in that direction. What do you think? A birthday stroll?”

“Very well,” she said. “I have questions, you know.”

“Ask,” he said.

“How did you find me?”

“Lady Louisa was most helpful and encouraging.”

“And what did you do with those proofs?”

“I read them.”

“Oh, then you know.” She stopped.

He tugged her along. “I know what Lady Melforth did, if that’s what you mean. Is that why you resigned? Jenny insisted that you were not sacked.”

“I hoped that she would change her mind. That she had only given into her fear that she’ll never write again, or travel again. She’s always been the Traveling Viscountess. She’s climbed volcanoes, you know. I could not blame her for being afraid. We all make bad choices when we’re afraid and there seems to be no other way, but I hoped, hoped she would change her mind. I hoped we could talk, and I could convince her that I wasn’t trying to take anything from her.”

“Then I took the proofs.”

“Why did you? It made, makes, no sense to me.”

He stopped and turned her to face him. The breeze off the bay ruffled her skirts, brushing them against his boots.

“I did not do it to hurt you, Viv. You were already hurt. I wanted to know what had caused your distress.”

Viv nodded. That unwavering gaze made her pulse kick up. She began walking again, wanting to finish her own explanation. “There was a moment when it seemed that Lady Melforth might change her mind, but it passed, and I knew I couldn’t stay and pretend that the work was all hers and not mine. So, I came home.”

“Have you heard from her?”

“No.” She wondered that he would ask.

They came to the end of the last row of cottages along the beach front where a path led upward through tall grass into open fields. He gestured for Viv to take the path.

“Wait,” she said, taking hold of his sleeve. “What did you do with the proofs when you read them? Why did you speak with Jenny?”

“Let’s find a place to sit.”

She looked at him in his exquisite coat. “You must not get grass stains on that coat. My mother would never forgive me.”

She took his hand and dragged him along the beach to a line of boulders making a natural jetty. She scrambled up, and waited while he shed his boots, and came up after her, nimble as if he climbed rocks daily. A large boulder with a rough, sun-warmed surface accommodated them both.

“I don’t understand how you could see Jenny. Lady Melforth meant to have you arrested. Your partner Rook was arrested, wasn’t he?”