"Yes." It sounded like of course.

"How soon after it happened?" He sensed that the governess was staring from one to the other, like an inexperienced second at a duel.

"I was away at the time. I cannot be expected to do everything."

"I see."

"How can you?" She did not conceal the anger and contempt in her voice. "You care nothing for the scandal you have caused with that woman-how could you hope to understand?"

"I will arrange a visit from a well-appointed surgeon." Belinda's tone left him quite cold. This was the woman who had left Dulcie Herrick to die after pretending friendship to her, who had used Herrick's revulsion at Catherine's liaison with her husband, and who had discredited Catherine and eventually deserted her in that same fever-ridden house. He tried not to think of his old friend Herrick. He, too, would die or live in dishonour if the court martial went against him.

He said, "Just once, think of somebody else before yourself."

He moved to the open door and realised he had not once called her by her first name.

He was in time to see somebody peering curiously out of the dining-room.

"I think your friends are waiting for you."

She followed him to the head of the stairs. "One day your famous luck will run out, Richard! I would I could be there to see it!"

Bolitho reached the hallway as Allday lurched up from his porter's chair.

"Let us go back to Chelsea, Allday. I will send a letter in Matthew's care to Sir Piers Blachford at the College of Surgeons. I think that would be best." He paused by the carriage and glanced at the street brazier, the dark figures still hunched around it. "Even the air seems cleaner out here."

Allday climbed in with him, and said nothing. More squalls ahead. He had seen all the signs.

He had seen the look Belinda had given him on the stairs. She would do anything to get Bolitho back. She would be just as glad to see him dead. He smiled inwardly. She'd have to spike me first, an' that's no error!