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perfectly acceptable.’
    â€˜Maybe he has his sights elsewhere.’
    â€˜With you in the room, no single man has any business looking elsewhere.’
    Anne burst out laughing and hugged her aunt’s arm as they continued their walk. ‘Oh, Aunt Georgie, you are as good as any medicine.’ And suddenly she was remembering Dr Tremayne again. Was he single? Surely a man as dedicated and busy as he was would need a wife to help him? She had at first thought Mrs Armistead was his wife until he had addressed her by name and in a voice that one would use to a servant, so she supposed she was his housekeeper or perhaps a nurse to help with his patients, but one who also made sure he had regular meals.
    One thing was certain, he was not afraid to dirty his hands, nor his clothes come to that, and he had spent five minutes in the same room with her before he had even deigned to notice her. He had a hard outer crust, but that was assumed, she was sure of it, because when he was dealing with Tildy, his whole expression had changed and his eyes had softened and become full of concern. Like her, he loved children. She smiled; it was a good thing her aunt did not know what was occupying her thoughts at that moment.
    â€˜Why are you smiling?’
    â€˜I was thinking of Lord Mancroft’s praise of Mrs Carter,’ she fibbed. ‘She must be famous in Brighton.’
    â€˜Judging by the size of his lordship’s waist, I would say he was an expert in culinary appreciation, wouldn’t you?’
    â€˜Oh, no doubt of it,’ Anne laughed, then added, ‘Shallwe take a dip tomorrow? Mrs Smith, the mother of that little girl, is a bathing attendant and she said she would look out for us.’
    â€˜You seem to have found out a lot about her in a short time, Anne.’ There was a note of censure in her voice and Anne found herself on the defensive.
    â€˜Not at all. I know very little. The child told us her mother worked on the beach, so I went in search of her. The husband is a fisherman and there is also a boy called Tom. I imagine it was he who brought the fish to us. Tom was supposed to be looking after Tildy while his mother worked, but he went off to help his father.’ She laughed suddenly. ‘He had apparently caught a monster.’
    â€˜A monster? What kind of monster?’
    â€˜I have no idea. I assumed it was a larger-than-usual fish.’
    â€˜Well, it is of no moment,’ her aunt said. ‘You did what you could to help them and that should be an end of it.’
    â€˜I would dearly like to know who that officer was driving the curricle. How anyone can run down a child and carry on as if nothing untoward had happened I do not know. It was wicked. He might have killed her.’
    â€˜Anne, I know you have a tender heart and I would not have you any other way, but you cannot fight everyone’s battles for them. Put it from your mind. You are here to enjoy yourself.’
    Â 
    Anne did try to put it from her mind, but whatever she was doing, the memory of that tiny child lying unconscious in the road kept intruding, and when she wasn’t thinking of Tildy, she was thinking of Dr Tremayne and, try as she might, she could not banish him. Perhaps if shewere to see him again, she might realise that he was not an Adonis, nor clever, just a very ordinary man, not even a gentleman, a physician who worked among the poor because he was not good enough to minister to the rich and earn the substantial fees they were prepared to pay. But that did not mean she could not sympathise with his work. And she had promised a donation. Instead of sending it through a third party as she had intended, she would take it herself when she could get away from her aunt without arousing suspicion. She had a feeling that Aunt Bartrum would not approve.
    The remainder of the day was spent in making plans for the supper party. Her aunt drew her into every decision, from the bill of fare