'I do wish you would reconsider this, Lily.'

Elizabeth Jane Darby, my daring friend, the one who puts excitement and thrill and independence above reputation and public opinion, is looking at me in such a pensive way that I can scarce believe it is really her. Then again, it seems I can scarce believe that I am really me, for the old me – the one I knew before I met Daniel – would reconsider. In fact, she would not even consider this in the first place.

'Please do not fret,' I say, grasping her handing and squeezing it warmly. 'I will be perfectly fine.'

She fixes me with a solemn look. 'Will you though? I think this man has driven you half-mad. This is not like you at all.'

'Lizzie, how long have you told me to throw caution to the wind? How many times did you tell me that it was not a woman's mission to remain cooped up inside the confines of a life defined by men? How often did you speak to me of freedom for our minds and our bodies?'

Lizzie flushes a little, but her eyes remain troubled. 'Well, yes, but I was talking about me. Not you.'

'So, I am not worthy of freedom too?'

She exhales a short, terse breath. 'Of course, you are! But you have always been so uptight about everything and so much like your mother, I never once imagined you would throw caution to the wind in quite this way. Maybe with Jonathan Acker or even a Naval Captain, someone of similar standing but with a slight rebellious streak, but the Sin-Eater? Of all people?' Softening, she touches a hand to my hair with affection. 'I am worried for you, dear.'

'Then you need not!' I smile, anxious for her to be reassured. 'You yourself dragged me to spy on him in old Mr. Hawkstone's study. You yourself said he was handsome, did you not? Well, he is that, and much more besides. Oh, Lizzie, if only you knew him, you would understand he is a good man.'

'A good man who knows full well what it means for a lady like yourself to associate with the likes of him.' She purses her lips. 'Honestly, Lillian, I am all for independence and not denying one's own desires, but if he allows you to not deny them on this occasion, I can only think he seeks to cause you more harm than good.'

I snatch my hand from hers, anger bristling through my bones.

'I can see there is nothing I can say that will have you trust my word. A pity. I thought you knew me well enough to know I have my own mind and that I am more than capable of forming an opinion on someone, based not simply on a fool's desire, but on character. I had hoped you would understand and would help me, but I see now I was wrong.'

I turn to leave, attempting to pull on my gloves and struggling to wriggle my fingers in, too furious to do the even the simplest of tasks.

Lizzie catches my arm to prevent my departure. 'Oh, Lillian, dearest, please do not go like this. I cannot bear for you to be angry with me too.'

Lizzie has always been what I would describe as radiant. She is beautiful, that is true - far more than I, it must be said - but it has always been more than just outward aesthetics. She carries a true radiance, almost as if she glows from under her skin, but today, I notice the glow is somewhat dullened. A greyness haunts the skin under her eyes. Her hue is pale and tired. Yes, that is it.She looks utterly exhausted and in my excitement at the prospect of seeing Daniel again and my anger at her words, I am ashamed to say I did not notice it until now.

'Who else is angry with you? Not Mrs. Hawkstone, surely? You do such a wonderful job with the children.'

She smiles then, but I see the falseness in it. 'No one,' she replies, shaking her head. 'I am angry with myself for doubting you, is all. I know you have your own mind, really, I do. You only helped Mr. Carver out of kindness – it's an awfully irritating trait of yours.' She laughs. 'And whatever wonderful thing has come from that, well, who am I to judge? But I need you to promise me you will be careful, and I don't mean the Sin... I mean, Mr. Carver. Percival Baker has shown himself to be a real snake in the grass and I worry for you. I worry for what he intends.'

She breaks off, her gaze flitting from mine as if she cannot bear me to see what is in her eyes.

'Lizzie,' I say, grasping her hand again. 'Are you quite alright? You look a little peaky. I think you are working too hard.'

She smiles again, broader this time, I think, in an attempt to revive some of that radiance.

'And you worry too much. Honestly, I am perfectly fine. Although, I do think I might need a break.' She glances back at Lutwyche, her expression unsettled. 'The mood in the house since Mr. Hawkstone's passing has been a strange one. I could do with plenty of fresh air, I think.'

'Hmm, well it's a beautiful day. Might you take one of the horses out later?'

Lizzie brightens considerably. 'Do you know, I think that sounds just what I need. And don't fret. I promise I will keep your secret. If anyone asks, I shall say you were here all day.'

I hug her tight. 'You, Elizabeth, are a true gift.'

'I know,' she says, but I still see the seed of doubt in her eyes. 'I think you are still half-mad for doing this, but who am I to stand in the way of my best friend's happiness?'

Daniel stands where we agreed we would meet, just inside Rectory Wood, where the scarlet ribbon begins its path, wound around the trunk of a sweet chestnut.

Today, he is without his jacket, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his strong arms wrapped around his chest. Under the shadows of the chestnut, he leans against the base and looks up into the boughs of the tree, and I am, as usual, struck by his beauty. The line of his jaw. The curve of his lips. The softness of his tousled curls.

I stop at the edge of the woods to catch my breath.

This man has driven you half-mad.

I think that Lizzie was right about that, but if this is madness, I rather like the way it makes me feel. A touch light-headed. A thrum of energy over my skin like the heady warmth of the sun's touch.

'Afraid of the dead, Miss Elmes, or of me?'

I blink and see that he has shifted his stance, so that his shoulder rests casually against the tree and he is watching me, as I stand there, seemingly lost in the feeling.

'Neither,' I say, crossing the border in one confident stride, before approaching, looking up into his face when I reach him. 'Although, I think the dead should fear me today. It appears I am being very daring.'

Daniel raises a brow. 'Is that so? Should I fear you too?'

'I think every man should fear a daring woman. We can be very unpredictable.'

'In that case, my lady, I shall be on my guard,' he says, performing a short bow. 'I would hate to be caught unawares by an unpredictable, daring woman. Who knows what might happen?'

'Exactly,' I say, answering his bow with a small curtsy of my own.

'Shall we go then?' he says, stepping onto the pathway and turning in the direction of his cottage.

This is it, Lillian. The point at which you could turn back. Change the course of everything with a pivot of your heels. Return to your life and forget this momentary spell of madness.

'What happened to being daring and predictable? Did you tire of the idea already?'

He looks back at me and I see the challenge there. A spark of something deliciously dark and mischievous that I am sure not even Lizzie, with all her courage, could dare hope to resist.

'Certainly not,' I say, catching up with him.

'Good,' he says, his fingers brushing against mine. 'Because there is something I wish to show you.'

'Is there now?' I say, amused as the Sin-Eater grasps my hand and leads me into the woods.

I know not what to say.

Speechless, I stand at the edge of the lake, looking out at the water which sparkles like the most perfect of crystal where the light breaks through the trees and hits the surface. Around the lake, the trees crowd in, dense and dark, their boughs touching as if they seek to protect the beauty here from outside eyes. I cannot say I would blame them. If I possessed something as wondrous as this, I think I would seek to hide it within my jealous heart, not wishing anyone else to discover it, should their very presence taint its magic.

'You are unusually quiet, Miss Elmes,' Daniel says. He stands just behind me, his chest brushing my shoulder, his breath warm on my neck. 'Do you not care for it?'

I swallow. 'I care for it very much and yet I find myself at a loss. I have lived in the Mynd my whole life, how could I not know this place existed?'

He leans closer, his voice breezing soft against my ear. 'Because it is not your place. It is mine and mine alone. No one comes here. It seems there is some benefit to living in a haunted wood.'

I turn sharply to look at him. 'But the wood is not actually haunted, is it?'

Chuckling to himself, he moves away, retrieving a blanket he had brought with him and laying it out on the ground, ignoring my question.

'Daniel?' I glance into the thick barrier of trees, my skin prickling at the stillness that lurks there. 'It's not, is it?'

'If it is, then it is only haunted by wood sprites or forest faeries,' he says, sitting down and smoothing out the blanket with his palms. 'And they are usually no threat to us.' He shoots me a wicked glance. 'Usually. Although I hear they are particularly fond of seafarers' daughters and seek to carry those maidens into the heart of the forest where no man will ever find them again.'

I laugh as I seat myself beside him, curling my legs to one side and adjusting my skirts. 'Are you honestly claiming to believe in sprites and faeries?'

'Are you claiming to find them unbelievable after everything you have witnessed?'

I am not sure whether he still seeks to tease me, but there is a serious tone to his voice that makes me think back to my first visit here and I shiver at the thought of it. 'The realm of my belief seems to have grown somewhat recently,' I say, casting my gaze across the water again. 'Does the silence here not disturb you? It is beautiful, I will grant you that, but the stillness unnerves me a little.'

Daniel looks to the far side of the lake, his gaze penetrating deep into the woodland.

'On the contrary, it is the stillness I crave,' he says. 'When I was a lad, I would come here for that very reason. For the calmness of it all. It gave me the escape I so desperately needed.'

'Escape? From what?'

His jaw tightens. I am not sure what he sees within the dusky forest, but I do not think it is the trees. Ghosts maybe. Memories.

'From him. My uncle.'

'Oh. Was he so very terrible?'

Daniel smiles bitterly. 'Terrible? Aye, he was that and more besides. Joseph was a deeply troubled man.'

'Troubled by what?'

'By everything. By the fact he had to carry the burden of his younger sister's shame. That he had to bear the responsibility of educating an ungrateful brat who no more wanted this curse than he did. That I reminded him of his own hypocrisy. That he would look at me and see himself.' He looks down, picking at a loose thread on his breeches, his face darkening as he speaks. 'He was troubled by things he would not speak of. Terrible things that kept him pacing the house at night. Things I think killed him in the end.'

I stare at him, saddened that his memories clearly bring him so much pain. 'Forgive me,' I say. 'I should not have asked of him. It cannot be easy to talk of it.'

His eyes meet mine, warmth crinkling the edges. 'I am not used to talking about it because I have never had the opportunity to talk of it to anyone before. After all, who can I converse with out here alone? The sprites and faeries?' Sighing, he picks up a small pebble and tosses it far into the water, which ripples at the intrusion.

'Do you mind if I ask how he died?'

'His heart failed him.' He shrugs. 'Not that he ever had much of one, mind. I am surprised there was anything left to fail in the end but fail it did. The man who spent every day of my young life teaching me just how much stronger he was than I, was not so strong after all.'

'And you think that whatever these terrible things were that troubled him so, were the cause of his heart failure?'

Daniel nods, his expression grave. 'I am sure of it. He grew very secretive before he died. He would often go walking at night in the woods. I cannot be certain, but I think he might have been meeting with someone.'

My eyes widen. 'Out in the woods? But I thought you said no one ever came to Rectory Wood?'

No one except for my father and his friends. Is that who the Sin-Eater had been meeting with?

'You did,' Daniel replies. 'Who knows? Maybe it was a woman.'

'A woman? Out here in Rectory Wood at night?'

He looks at me and grins. 'Aye. One of those daring, unpredictable types.'

I cannot return his smile then. I am thinking of Edna Bates, the girl my father told me of. The one who visited Joseph here at night.

The girl who died after setting eyes upon the Sin-Eater.

Looking away, I stare into the water, pushing down on the disquiet that has crept into my stomach. 'Well, whatever happened to him, he should never have hurt you. You did not deserve that.'

'Did I not? Maybe he sought to beat the Devil out of me. Do you think he succeeded? Or do you agree with your mother that I am the Beast himself?'

I glare at him. 'You know sometimes I think you deliberately set out to provoke me. I think you might even enjoy it.'

Daniel laughs then, a warm, throaty chuckle that echoes across the water. 'Maybe I do, aye. Maybe I like the way your forehead wrinkles when you are annoyed. Maybe I like seeing the fire in your eyes when I do.'

He sniffs and rakes through his hair in a way that makes me wish I could reach out and do the same.

'Anyway,' he says. 'I do not think you dislike it as much as you claim.'

'You think I enjoy being provoked?' I scoff.

'I think you enjoy it very much.'

'Oh, now you're being ridiculous.'

But he is not, and I know he is not. I do enjoy it.

I enjoy him.

God help me, but I do.

'Am I?' he replies innocently, unlacing his boots and removing them, before climbing to his feet.

I watch him, my mouth open in astonishment. 'Why are you taking off your boots? What are you doing?'

With his back to me, he unbuttons his vest and discards it, tossing it casually behind him so it lands on the blanket.

'Daniel, what on Earth are you doing?'

Tugging the hem of his shirt from his breeches, he pulls it over his head, revealing an expanse of muscular back and this time daring to look directly at me as he throws the shirt down with the vest.

'I am provoking you, of course.'

'By removing your clothes?'

'By asking you to come for a swim with me.' Reaching down, he grasps my hand, pulling me to my feet with ease. I am softened by the mere sight of him. By the scent of his skin so very close.

I swallow. My heart beats wild. He cannot mean this. 'B-but I have no bathing suit.'

'Nor do I. Turn around, Lillian.'

I pause for a beat, allowing the thought of it to simmer over me, sink into my flesh, bury deep into every part of me. When I do as he says, it is like moving within a dream. My body floats, my feet barely touching the ground. I am awake, I know I am and yet everything feels so very different.

His fingers find the fastening of my gown and he unbuttons the collar first, releasing me. I feel his breath tremble against my freed skin and know he is as thrilled as I am. His hands move quickly then, loosening my gown all the way down to the small of my back, where his touch stills, and he rests his forehead against the side of my head. His mouth brushes lightly against my ear.

'You do not have to do this,' he whispers. 'I will think no different of you if you ask me to fasten you again. I won't be disappointed. I will still hold you above all others. Nothing can change that now, do you understand?'

I nod.

'Do you wish me to fasten your dress, Miss Elmes?'

I realise then that it is too late for me. I am mad. Mad with want. Mad with desire.

'No,' I whisper back. 'Please don't.'

'Very well,' he says, stepping away and I almost moan at the feeling that sweeps through my body when his hands drop from my back. I am bereft. Grief-stricken at the loss of his touch already.

Bare-footed, Daniel walks down to the lake edge, his toes dipping into the water. Stunned immobile, I covet every inch of him as he wades into the lake, his breeches soaked against his thighs. There is a sublime beauty in the way his body moves in the water, as if it was made for it and not for land. He glides, his skin glistening as the water flows down his back and arms. A good way in, he stops, treading the surface, but does not look back.

I realise then what he is doing and my heart soars. With haste, I slide the gown from my shoulders, pulling it over my hips and stepping out of it, along with my petticoats until I am standing there, outside, in just my corset, stockings, drawers and chemise. I should feel shame. Guilt. An awful, endless sense of humiliation that I have allowed this, but I do not.

I feel elation. A rightness in every inch of my bones. If I had wings, I think I would soar now.

Cageless. Free.

When I step gingerly into the water, the cold embrace of it catches my breath and almost crushes it from my lungs. With each step, I cannot prevent from gasping out loud and I hold my arms out either side, as if I am walking the tightrope at the circus and not wading up to my chest into a woodland lake in nothing but my undergarments.

'Daniel,' I say. 'I cannot, it's too cold...'

Grabbing my hands, Daniel tugs me towards him. Catching me around the waist, he pulls me against him, the instant warmth of his body reviving my own. I gasp again, but not from the cold, but from this. Him. From how our bodies touch. How they mould together.

'Breathe, Lily, breathe.'

I do, exhaling a shaky breath as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, relaxing into him. Feeling him stiffen against me, holding me so very firmly.

'Better?' he asks.

'Immeasurably,' I say, but I shiver anyway. 'You won't let go, will you?'

Daniel smiles as he rotates us in the water, using his legs to spin us slowly in a circle, as if this were a ballroom and we are two dancers, moving to the music as the crystal chandelier coats everything in fractured light.

'No, Lily,' he murmurs, as his lips brush featherlight against my open mouth. 'Why on Earth would I let go of something that feels as good as this does?'

'Are you provoking me again?'

'Maybe. Yes. Do you mind?'

I wrap my legs around his waist, hearing him gasp this time, a small tremble of breath against my face. I like hearing it. I like how good his body feels against mine. Different. New. But good.

'On the contrary, Mr. Carver, it appears I do not mind at all.'