Titus looked across the table at the two furious faces staring back at him. This was not how he expected things to end. “But I have not finished teaching her,” he said, cursing himself for the weakness of his voice. He felt a ball of dread in the pit of his stomach, a sensation brought on by what they had just said.

When Jonathan had left, Rose brought him to an orgasm made all the more powerful by the knowledge that they might be interrupted at any moment. He thought he had won, he thought he had sent Jonathan away with his tail between his legs. He thought he’d have Rose all to himself again.

Instead he was facing Mr. and Mrs. Winter and they looked back at him with not a hint of sympathy in their faces. “I have two days left, why would you sack me now?”

Mr. Winter coughed to clear his throat. “We hired you to turn our daughter into an adult, to teach her that the life of a child was past, that it was time for her to grow up. You have had five days and in that time she seems only to have gotten worse, not better.”

“I confess she is more difficult a prospect than I realised but I would ask you to trust me in this matter.”

“I have trusted you long enough. She had an infantile tantrum at the Planchett house and you assured me you would deal with that. I take the trouble to arrange another meeting with Mr. Carlisle and what does she do? She sits on your lap and calls you Papa. Oh yes, Mr. Carlisle told me all about that. It is unacceptable behaviour from my daughter and what is worse, you did nothing to correct her.”

“If you would only give me a little time.”

“No. My mind is made up. You may keep your fee but you are no longer welcome in this house. It is time for you to go.”

“You cannot be persuaded to change your mind?”

“I cannot. I wanted my daughter to grow up. I have no idea what you want, but it seems certain you do not want her to marry Mr. Carlisle. Do you have something against him?”

Titus thought back to that night in the park, the sight of Jonathan forcing himself onto the struggling figure of Rose. “How I feel about Mr. Carlisle is immaterial. How I feel about Rose is perhaps a matter we should discuss.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Put simply, I am in love with your daughter.”

“You are what? You cannot be serious? That is preposterous.”

“I assure you I am deadly serious. I am in love with your daughter and I would like your permission to marry her.”

“You? Have our daughter marry you instead of Mr. Carlisle? Why on earth would we agree to that?”

“Because we are in love.”

“You might be but I promise you, Rose is not.”

“It is just a crush,” Mrs. Winter added. “Nothing more. She is too young to know true love.”

“But not too young to be married off to Mr. Carlisle?”

“You have no prospects, Mr. Burlingham. Do not take offence to my words, but surely you must want the best for Rose as do we. Could you offer the estate and the life that Mr. Carlisle could?”

Titus sighed, shaking his head slowly “I could not.”

“Precisely. Now I think it is time you left, don’t you?”

Titus was still in shock when he arrived at his office later that day. Mrs. Cartwright was asleep in her corner. He chose not to wake her. Instead he sank into his chair and put his head in his hands. Banished. It was a strange sensation. He had never been sent away before. All his previous employers had begged him to stay longer, to do more, not less. But now he had met the one woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he had been forbidden to even say goodbye to her. That hurt the most. The last time he had seen her, she had been sitting on his lap, the two of them joined together in the most intimate way. Now, he might never see her again. It was enough to send a tear rolling down his cheek. It was a lonely tear, his coldness returning and forbidding any more to fall.

He had been escorted from the house by Mr. Winter, told never to darken their doors again. He was branded a failure, mocked for his love, cursed for his presumption that they would agree to the marriage. Anita had been sent on her way shortly afterwards, catching up with him as he walked bewildered through the streets.

“It was obviously not meant to be,” she said when he told her what had happened that morning. “She is meant to marry Jonathan and not you.”

“Do you have to be so cruel about it?”

“What good is there in shielding you from the truth? Do not take on so, Mr. Burlingham. There are other women out there. You will find another one who will take your heart.”

“I do not want another woman. I want my little Rose.”

“I am sorry, I truly am. Come and have a drink with me, soothe those nerves of yours. This must have come as quite a shock.”

“No, I will go to the office. I want to look through the contract, see if there is a way to get them to reconsider.”

“Do not let this consume you, Mr. Burlingham. Let it go. Let her go. You will feel much better if you do.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

“You know where I am if you need to talk.”

“Thank you.”

She turned and headed away, leaving him to walk alone to the office. He sat in his chair thinking his life was over. What was the point in opening the letters? In finding another job? What was the point in anything at all? His mind fixated on Rose and a thought occurred to him. Perhaps there was a way to see her, to speak to her one last time. He thought about where her bedroom was. It faced the street. Perchance he might be able to get her to come to her window, to see him, to talk to him. Maybe they could come up with a way to persuade Mr. Winter to change his mind. It was a slender hope, but one just strong enough to stop him from sinking into utter despair.