Still, grateful as Julian was for Sam's help, he wished his cousin hadn't assumed so much. He'd felt guilty about the amount of work she was doing purely from the goodness of her heart, and he'd been casting about aimlessly for some form of repayment. He had no available money to offer her, not that she would have needed or accepted it had he done so, but he did have his dogs as well as his knowledge of and enthusiasm for Derbyshire. And wanting to make her feel welcome for as long as possible at Broughton Manor, he'd offered her the only thing he had: occasional activities with the harriers as well as conversation. And it was a conversation about the eclipse that she had misunderstood.

“I hadn't thought…” He kicked at a bare patch in the gravel where a dandelion was shooting up a furry stalk. “I'm sorry, I'm heading over to Maiden Hall.”

“Oh.”

Funny, Julian thought, how a single syllable could carry the weight of everything from condemnation to delight.

“Stupid me,” she said. “I can't think how I got the impression that you wanted to… Well, anyway…”

“I'll make it up to you.” He hoped he sounded earnest. “If I hadn't already planned… You know how it is.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “Mustn't disappoint your Nicola, Julian.”

She offered him a brief, cool smile and ducked into the hollow of the wisteria vine. She hooked a basket over her arm.

“Another time?” Julian said.

“Whatever.” She didn't look at him as she walked past, slipped through the gateway, and disappeared into the inner courtyard of Broughton Manor.

He felt the breath leave him in a gusty sigh. He hadn't realised he'd been holding it back. “Sorry,” he said quietly to her absence. “But this is important. If you knew how important, you'd understand.”