He starts to protest. I move closer to him, so close I can feel the heat of him, catch a hint of the Reuben smell that’s in my DNA.

Reuben bangs his hand down on the table, stares at the cherries on the oilcloth. “Stop.”

Cherry trifle. Does he even remember that tiny detail?

“I didn’t come here to argue about who loves who the most –”

“No, you came here to find out if I’ll keep your secret – our secret. If I’ll lie to my sister if she asks me.”

He opens his mouth, and I wait to hear what he has to say, wait to hear him tell me I’m wrong, but he remains silent.

“Don’t worry, Reuben,” I continue. “I have no intention of hurting Jane any more than I already have. I won’t tell her.”

He nods.

“The thing is, even if she doesn’t find out, even if she never has any evidence, she knows there’s something . . .”

He sighs. “I just want to know,” he says cautiously, “if Jane and I split up . . .”

I think I know what’s coming next. My heart is banging against my ribs, and there’s only one question in my mind.

Will he end it, or will Jane?

But I already know the answer. Reuben will never have the courage of his convictions.

He’s never loved me enough to make the break, to put me first.

Missed you

Even now, he’s just making sure he has somewhere to run to if the shit really hits the fan.

“Lucie.” He turns a little, to look at me full on, but he doesn’t try and touch me again.

“Lucie, I’ve missed you. I had to come and see you. Do you think . . . do you think we could make a go of this?”

I can’t meet his gaze. I get to my feet and I can feel his eyes on me as I pace over to the Aga.

I make a great play of folding a tea towel that’s already folded.

“All these months you’ve ignored me.”

“I was trying to get over you. It didn’t work.” He sounds so weary, but I can’t let myself buy into it or I’ll be lost.

Yeah, it’s been exhausting, hasn’t it, my love?

All the deception, the heightened emotion? The rollercoaster ride to nowhere.

My inner knot loosens.

“Can I ask you this . . .?” I can hear my heart pumping in my ears. “Are you going to end it with Jane?”

He tries to bat the question away, but it’s the most important question I’ve ever asked. Will you make that decision?

He shrugs. “It’s up to Jane, isn’t it?”

“Why?”

“It’s her call.” He is a schoolboy hauled up in front of the head.

“She thinks I’ve been cheating – no evidence, of course – but imagine if I end it with her and then start up with you.

“It’d be too obvious. No, it has to be her decision, and then we can sell our relationship to her later.

“You were comforting me after she broke my heart, something like that.”

I am momentarily speechless. “You don’t get it, do you, Reuben?

“This is just a game, isn’t it? A game you’re good at. That’s why you do it.”

He starts to protest. I move closer to him, so close I can feel the heat of him, catch a hint of the Reuben smell that’s in my DNA.

I wonder if I can trust my voice. I have to say this. I have to say it and I have to mean it.

He will always be my sister’s boyfriend. He will always be the person who was willing to cheat.

“No, Reuben.” I squeeze his shoulder, very gently. “You’re not the person I thought you were.

“I did this to my sister because I fell in love with you, not because I wanted to hurt her. It would kill her, if she knew.

“It would kill her if I got together with you now or at any time in the future. And worst of all, you didn’t choose me. You couldn’t even make that decision.”

Mac

Bella returns to the castle alone. Elspeth is missing. Men and hounds are sent out, but the hunt turns up nothing. Of the younger sister, there is no sign.

Their father’s fury dashes the walls of the keep like the east wind in winter, but it is just as futile.

Bella is shocked and mute and no one can say for certain what the truth is.

In time, the young Lord Musgrave recovers enough to put in a bid for the older sister.

Bella accepts without enthusiasm.

She rarely leaves her room now; every whiff of the outdoors reminds her of Elspeth, and her resentment has withered on the vine, to be replaced by a deep, dark guilt she cannot shake off.

It plods at her heels like Faithful, the old hound. The wedding is arranged by her mother, who can barely focus through lack of sleep.

Her face is shadowed by grief and the preparations are muted.

The flowers that deck the great hall are past their best and the wedding wine tastes like vinegar.

No one has thought about music.

Settle

I can’t settle into the story. I’m thinking of Reuben, of his unexpected appearance.

Lucie is with him now.

All those clues . . . they all fit together now. The strange man with Lucie, the car crash, the girl’s obvious distress.

It all fits.

I put down my pen and get up from the desk, kneading my neck muscles as I make my way over to the study window.

Outside, the grounds are looking a bit forlorn, and I make a mental inventory.

The grass needs cutting; must find a reliable man to cut said grass; buy bedding plants.

Pansies, probably. Yes, you can depend on a pansy to gladden the heart.

My heavy sigh mists the glass, and I press my palm to that unreliable organ. My heart.

It’s skittering about still, which is probably a good thing. At least it’s still beating.

More tomorrow.

• Bone Deep by Sandra Ireland is published by Polygon (£8.99, pbk). Sandra Ireland’s latest novel, The Unmaking of Ellie Rook, is available now (Polygon, £8.99.)