“Caroline?”
Someone was calling her name. Cyril, of course. It was Cyril.
“Honey, where are you?”
“Here, darling. I’m out on the deck. I’ll be right there.”
“Caroline, stop this nonsense and come to bed. It’s late.” He was kneeling next to her chair by the hearth. He put his arm round her gently and led her from the dying coals and back to their bed. “You’ve fallen asleep, love. That’s all.”
“No, I haven’t been sleeping. I’m awake as you are. I…I was sitting and thinking about our ride to the island on the ferry. But it seemed different somehow.”
“How different?” Cyril asked.
"Oh, I don’t know. I feel so muddled. I was on the deck when…”
He pulled back the blanket and, when she was settled, he brought the coverlet up to her neck. “Why, you’re shivering, darling.”
“I am?”
“Mm.” He
