‘Felt what?’

‘Look, if Max had lived it would have been fine,’ she said, sounding defensive again. ‘But Max was larger than life. He had to be, he had too much living to do. The village had pooled together to get him the best medical treatment money could buy. As a community it was a huge commitment, and they loved him. When he died, well, there was only me, and they sort of transferred their loving to me.’

‘And you’re tired of loving?’

‘A little bit,’ she admitted, and sipped her champagne and smiled ruefully. ‘I wouldn’t mind a bit of adventuring. Me and Hoppy.’

He smiled back. Her smile was infectious even when it was rueful.

‘And you,’ she said curiously. ‘What about your childhood? Erhard told me you’re devoted to your foster mother.’

‘Ruby’s great.’ But his words were curt. He didn’t like people enquiring into his background. The knowledge that Ruby’s macramé class had been infiltrated gave him an odd feeling. Like he was exposed.

‘Hey, if we’re going to be married I need to know stuff about you,’ she said. ‘And you asked first.’

‘So what do you need to know? How I like my toast buttered in the morning?’

‘Butter your own toast, big boy,’ she said, but she chuckled. ‘No, but you know the sort of thing. I’d hate to find out that you have a fiancée and twelve kids.’

‘No fiancée. No kids,’ he said a bit too hastily. ‘I’m sure Erhard would have told you if I had. But what about you? Did you and Max want kids?’

Her face closed, just like that.

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘That’s three sorries in as many minutes from a lawyer,’ she said, awed, and he thought she was changing the subject.

He went along with it though.

‘I guess three sorries mean I’m at your mercy.’

‘You know, I’m very sure you’re not.’ She smiled, but absently, and went back to hugging Hoppy. And looking out the window. Conversation over.