Henry enjoyed fitting her out. She would only accept two dresses and one hat. He threw in a parasol and some stockings as well. She possessed an exquisite pair of earrings and a golden hair ornament, they had been a gift, she said. That was all the jewellery she wanted. Henry would have turned her into a princess, he was thinking shoes, and perfume, and pearls, but she just laughed. One elegant, simple day dress, and one pretty but inconspicuous evening dress were all she would accept. Both far too simple for his taste, but he had to admit that she was right. Even in her toned-down new dress she turned so many heads when she was walking on his arm along the pier.

  He enjoyed this very much. People saw a beautiful couple. He was lucky to have her, he could almost hear the men think it. And he was.

  At the hotel, when they were having tea, he discovered another unexpected side to her. The elderly couple at the next table struck up a conversation, and Aoife went on to play the part of Mrs Crawford with full conviction. This was their honeymoon, yes, alas, only for a few days, because her husband was so very busy. What business did he do? Oh, he was expecting a ship from the Antipodes; he was a merchant. He had met her in Australia, too. Did they know Ballarat at all? A mining town, small but prosperous. Yes, this was her first time in England; she was looking forward to exploring London, but she loved the sea so much, too. The lady patted her hand and called her ‘child’ and wished them well. Aoife smiled and thanked her, and then she winked at Henry.

  He waited until the couple had left the room before he reminded her to stick to the same story from now on. She giggled. He held her hand adoringly.

  When they were alone, she became serious, almost shy. She was brushing her hair while Henry and Porter discussed the plans for the following day. After the valet had left them, Henry watched her undress and carefully hang up her new dress. Then she turned to look at him. He smiled, expectantly. When she did not move, he cleared his throat and began, “Aoife…“

  She interrupted him immediately. “We should not be talking just now, I think. I’m not sure whether I would say now what I really feel. But I thank you for this adventure.“

  He wanted to tell her that this need not be an adventure. He wanted to go down on his knees in front of her and promise that this could be forever. She still looked serious, though, and he remained as he was.

  “You are mad for doing this“, she said, holding out her hand.

  He took it and pulled her close. “You are absolutely right.“

  In the morning, when he woke up, he feared that it had all been a dream, but there she was, sleeping peacefully beside him, looking incredibly young and innocent. He could hardly believe what she had done with him, what acts had been performed – for she had asked him not to insist; “Three days, that will be all, Henry, but I do not wish to become pregnant“, she had said. He had been disappointed at first, but she had dispelled that feeling. He had thought that a man could only do these things with whores – but this angel had done them, and more than that. He did not want to wake her, he wanted to marvel at her some more. He gently stroked a loose strand of hair from her face. She sighed in her sleep. This was too much. Slowly, very slowly, he woke her up regardless.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He loved to spoil her. It seemed to be the most important thing, his purpose in life. Her happiness delighted him. With her, everything he knew was adorable. Even the food was more delicious. Aoife took everything in and filled her role with grace. She never thanked him again, but why would she? She deserved everything.

  Part of him watched them closely, and came to the conclusion that it might just be possible to live with her, in the open, to marry her, to elevate her. She was very adaptable, but she always stayed true to herself. Of course, the Crawfords were not the Routledges. She would need to learn a lot to be able to move effortlessly in the circles he was accustomed to. He even thought that it would not really be an act of rebellion to introduce her into his sphere, but an act of heroism. Aoife’s natural elegance and charm were something society was often lacking in. He could give it to them to marvel at. He liked this idea very much.

  That she was still serious sometimes, that he caught her looking away into the distance without telling him what bothered her he did not take as a bad sign at all. Only a stupid woman would not have been pensive in her situation, and she was not a stupid woman. Henry was well prepared to give her some space. He did not want to crowd her, he did not even press her for kisses every time he felt the urge to do so, which was all the time. They had been together for sixty hours. He was prepared to grant her a few days more.

  They were taking their tea at the hotel when a page boy walked up to them with a silver tray. There was an envelope. Henry was irritated – nobody knew he was here, and under a false name. This could only be a mistake. Aoife looked at him in alarm, but he shook his head reassuringly. Then he opened the envelope. “His Lordship the Earl of Ashwood seriously ill – condition critical – multiple strokes – return urgently requested – Briggs.”

  He handed the telegram to Aoife, unable to speak. “Who is Briggs?”, she asked mechanically.

  Henry wiped his face. “My father’s butler. Porter must have informed him of our whereabouts. I have to leave immediately.“ He looked at her. “I have to.“

  Aoife handed him the telegram back. “Of course you do.“

  “I am sorry.“

  “No, I understand.“ She was serious. “There is nothing I can do, is there?” He shook his head. “Then I will go back to Norwich by train.“

  They had left the tea room and were walking to the elevator. He shook his head. Her calm helped him to think. “No. I will take the next train to London, that is quicker. You can stay for another night, and then Porter will drive you up to Norwich.“ Aoife just nodded.

  Henry informed Porter and sent him away to get the train ticket. The next train was due in half an hour. Henry hurriedly packed what he immediately needed. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he was shocked. He looked pale and distracted, and his eyes were wide. Only then did he realise that he was scared. A nameless fear had taken over, of something he could do nothing about. He feared for his father, but also for himself. He was not able to estimate the consequences of this.

  When Aoife touched his shoulder, he started from his thoughts. She embraced him and held him without a word. “Why?”, he murmured against her ear. “Why now?”

  She whispered, “It is what it is, Henry. It is not good, but it will pass. It always does.“

  They stood like this for some minutes. When Porter came back with the ticket, Henry had calmed down, but he did not let go of her. “I am so sorry, Aoife. This is not what I wanted.“

  Aoife put her hand against his face. “Don’t worry about me. Take care.“

  Henry kissed her and kissed her hands. “I miss you already.“ Then he left. He turned his face up to see her standing at the window, earnest and beautiful and far away and out of reach.