The railway station was teeming with people. She searched for the ticket agent but stopped abruptly when she saw a familiar figure pacing in front of a stone bench, his head bent, his arms clasped behind him.

Edward had arrived ahead of her. How her spirit soared to see him. At the same time she wondered why he was here.

When he saw her, his dark, brooding countenance disappeared, replaced by a generous smile. She hurried to meet him, clinging to her hat, hoping beyond hope that he was here to take her home. His hand touched her gloveless hand as he reached to take her valise. Sparks raced to her core.

“How did you know I’d be here,” she rasped. Her voice failed her as did her decorum. She flung her arms around his neck and embraced him.

“I didn’t but I’m happy to have found you,” he whispered for her and her alone to hear.

She drew back and gazed into his eyes.

They had a moment before decisions must be made, of alternatives sought out and discussed. She would never forget this moment when they found each other.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“For involving you in such a sordid matter.”

“You did nothing wrong,” he said.

“So you do believe me?”

“I regret doubting you. It is in my nature.”

Again she saw the gentle curve of his mouth, a suggestion of happiness. She sensed no fear in him. She’d been terrified, but he was reassuring her that her fears were unfounded.

The sound of a steam whistle in the distance alerted her to the arrival of the next train. The milling crowd picked up their cases and parcels and crowded together on the platform. A little man wearing a blue jacket and cap waved frantically at them to step back from the track.

“We must hurry,” Marjorie said. “Have you brought money for a ticket?”

“Tickets won’t be necessary,” he said. “The police are satisfied you are innocent.”

“But how?”

He offered her his arm and she accepted. He steered her to the empty stone bench.

“Sit down, Marjorie,” he said. “I’ve something important to tell you.”

She heard the whistle of the approaching train and saw great puffs of smoke belching upward.

“The train to Naples is almost here,” she said. “I want to be on it, to go home where I belong.”

“Hear me out,” he said. “If you wish to return to England, I will understand.”

“Yes, I believe you are the most understanding man I’ve ever met.”

Mothers called to their children, and she heard their eager cries of excitement as the train squealed to a stop and sighed. People in the train lowered their windows and waved madly to those on the platform. People were getting on the train.

Marjorie wouldn’t be one of them.

She sat down on the bench shaded by a row of tall cypress. He took a seat beside her and reached for her hand. She held on to him with complete trust. His expression was very somber.

Instantly, she became apprehensive. All was not well. He’d told her the police no longer considered her a suspect.

What else could possibly be the matter?