On the night before they left London for Ambergate, Alex had hosted a dinner for the family at Haye House. Sophia, her face flushed with excitement, had regaled everyone with the tale of the Eve of St Agnes.

‘So Jane and I agreed that we would put the legend to the test and I went to bed without any supper and did not look behind me, just as the tale demanded, and I dreamed of such a very handsome man!’ She turned glowing eyes on Philip. ‘So tall and fair, and so very much like Philip!’

There was general laughter.

‘And what did you dream of, Jane?’ Alex asked silkily, an intent look in his dark eyes. Jane looked away.

‘I did not dream that night, sir.’

The smiles of the others faded as they sensed the constraint between the two of them, but Sophia was still so buoyed up with the astonishing felicity of the story coming true that she had not seemed to notice.

‘Oh, Jane! How can you say that? When you dreamed of Alex-’ she blushed a little to use the name of her future brother-in-law ‘-and now you are betrothed to him! You see! It must be true!’

Jane smiled a little at her friend’s vehemence. For a moment she forgot the ring of faces around her, Alex looking at her with the same watchful intent as before. ‘The truth of it is, Sophy, that it was the real Alexander Delahaye I saw and no dream! He was visiting Ambergate that night. I peeked around my bedroom door and saw a man in the corridor-a man I thought seemed all darkness and shadows, as though he had stepped straight out of the legend…’ She paused. ‘I was very young and he looked quite stern and frightening, yet curiously compelling to me. Oh, I thought him handsome! And I went back to bed and he stalked my dreams that night…’ Her voice trailed away as she suddenly became aware of the silence around her and how far she might have given herself away. Then Lady Eleanor Fane stirred and said approvingly, ‘A charming story, child!’ And she realised that everyone had taken this as the proof that she was head over ears in love with Alex.

Henry Marchnight clapped him on the back, grinning.

‘You’re a lucky man, Alex!’

‘Why, so I think,’ Alex said expressionlessly, his eyes never leaving Jane’s face.

The party had broken up early, for they were all to make the journey to Ambergate the following day-all but Alex, who declared that he had business that would keep him in London for a little longer. Jane’s spirits had sunk to such a low ebb that she wondered whether the business could involve Lady Dennery. She had no reason to suspect so, but doubt and jealousy gnawed away at her.

Returning to Ambergate had brought with it some kind of solace. Whilst Lady Verey and Lady Eleanor plotted and planned to make it the biggest and most impressive wedding that the county had ever seen, Jane wandered across the fields or sat in the gardens, looking at the mellow old house where she had lived all her life. Even this, Jane knew, would change on her marriage. She would become the mistress of half a dozen fine houses and Simon and Thérèse would take possession of Ambergate. Lady Verey was already cheerfully contemplating a move to Amber House, the Dower house at the end of the drive.

Jane traipsed back to the house just as dusk was falling. It was two days before the wedding and she could hear the voices of Lady Eleanor and Lady Verey endlessly extolling the virtues of orange blossom and white lace:

‘We will ask dear Jane when she returns. Where has the child got to? I declare, she hasn’t eaten all day! It isn’t natural, this indifference to her own wedding! Why, both Thérèse and Sophia are aux anges, but Jane mopes about as though we were planning her funeral!’

Jane paused in the hallway. She felt too miserable to want any supper and the temptation to seek refuge in her room was overwhelming.

The grandfather clock struck ten. Lighting a candle, Jane trod softly up the stair. She reached the corner at the top and turned down the shadowy passageway. She heard a door open below in the hall, but did not look behind, and once in her bedroom she undressed quickly, blew out the candle and jumped into bed.

Sleep eluded her. For a while she tossed and turned, dozing, her mind full of images of Alex. She heard the rest of the house preparing for bed and then silence. Jane’s stomach suddenly gave a loud rumble.

With a sigh she slipped out of bed, reached for her wrap and stole downstairs to the larder. There was half a chicken, some fresh bread and a new pat of delicious butter out on the slab and suddenly she felt ravenous. When she had eaten as much as she could, and washed the whole of it down with a beaker of milk, she felt much better. Picking up her candle again, she retraced her steps into the hall and back up the stairs.

The moonlight was very bright. Somewhere deep in the woods, Jane heard an owl call once, then again. The treads of the stair gave softly under her feet. Suddenly, although the night was warm, Jane gave a shiver. There was the creak of a floorboard behind her and she hesitated. She had a strange conviction that there was someone following her, but it seemed nonsense. She had heard no steps and there were always strange noises at Ambergate, which was a very old house indeed.

There was an unexpected breath of wind and the candle flame guttered, then went out. Jane spun around. This time, she was sure that there was someone behind her, but the whole of the stairs were in shadow. With a little muted squeak, Jane shot down the passage and reached the shelter of her bedroom doorway. Her curtains were not quite closed, allowing a pool of silver to dapple the floor. She turned to shut the door against whatever restless spirits seemed to be abroad that night, but as she did so, a figure slid through the doorway and a hand touched her arm, warm and very much alive.

‘Jane?’

‘Alex!’

Jane was so relieved that her ghost was, in fact, real that she was almost annoyed with him.

‘What ever are you doing here?’

‘I could not sleep.’ Alex leaned against the door jamb, surveying her from head to foot. ‘Nor, it seems, could you?’

‘I was hungry,’ Jane whispered, putting the candle down on the chest and wondering whether he intended to stay there for long. ‘Lady Eleanor is only two rooms away. We must take care not wake her up.’

‘Then I had better close the door,’ Alex agreed, suiting actions to words.

This had not been precisely what Jane intended. She wondered what on earth Lady Eleanor would think if she knew that her godson was in Jane’s bedroom, for all that they were supposed to be marrying in a few days’ time.

‘I did not even know that you had arrived from Town,’ Jane said, still whispering. Alex lit the candle and turned to face her. He was still fully clothed, in casual but elegant garb, and his gaze, as it travelled over Jane, only served to emphasise her own state of undress. She jumped quickly into bed, burrowing her cold toes under the covers, watching with deep misgiving as Alex sat down on the side of the bed facing her.

‘I arrived whilst you were out this evening,’ he said, still looking at her. ‘I was hoping to see you, but when we realised that you had come straight up to your room, I thought that I would wait until the morning. But then I could not sleep and decided to take a walk, as it was such a clear night. It was as I was letting myself back in that I heard a noise and realised that I was not the only one abroad.’

He took Jane’s cold hands in his.

‘Jane, I know that there is something wrong. You must tell me what it is. Your mother was saying only this evening that you are pining for something, and I knew even before we left London that there were difficulties. Is it that you are sad to be leaving Ambergate? It will be a wrench for you, I know, but I am sure that you will always be welcome here. And you will have a new home of your own.’

A huge lump seemed to be blocking Jane’s throat. She thought of the familiar warmth of Ambergate and the imagined cold vastness of the Delahaye estates, and shivered.

‘I do not want a dozen houses of my own!’ The words burst from her. ‘I do not want to be a Duchess and have people bowing and scraping, people I know would not care a rush for me if I were plain Miss Verey! I want none of it!’

Alex had gone very still. His face was in shadow. He still held her hands and his grip had tightened, though Jane made no attempt to pull away. Her eyes, bright with tears, held his defiantly.

‘What do you want then, Jane?’

‘I want you to love me!’ Jane wailed, bursting into tears as she finally admitted to the root cause of her misery. ‘I want you to love me as much as I love you! That’s all I have ever wanted and without that the rest is not worth a penny!’

Alex let go of her hands abruptly and pulled her into his arms. Jane was too unhappy to resist and for several seconds she just cried against his chest whilst he murmured endearments into her hair. Then, recalling what she had just said, she pulled back and glared at him.

‘Oh! You are forever making me say things that would be better unsaid! How dare you?’

Alex did not reply. He turned her face up to his and kissed her. His lips were very gentle, teasing the corners of Jane’s mouth with a featherlight touch before raining a path of tiny kisses along the sensitive line of her jaw and the soft skin of her neck. Jane shivered again, but not from cold. It was fortunate that she was already sitting down, she thought hazily, for the burning sweetness that was coursing through her blood made her tremble.

‘Alex-’

‘Shh! If you make a noise, Lady Eleanor will hear you and doubtless be scandalised!’

‘Oh!’ In her strangely weakened state, Jane felt herself fall back against her pillows. Alex leant over her.