Mary sat on the bed watching as Tom knotted his necktie, a complicated process of folding and tucking it this way and that. She rather enjoyed watching him dress. It felt normal. Nice.

Today would be the last day of waking up together and pottering about getting ready for the day. After three blissful days and nights together, including a surprisingly successful fact-finding mission for the estate, it was time to go home and return to real life.

She'd tried to avoid thinking about the three little words she'd almost said to him on their first morning here. It was a possibility she hadn't foreseen and even now couldn't quite contemplate face on. Instead, she'd decided it was just an in-the-moment reaction to what they'd been doing at the time, and it was best left alone.

Right now, she had another question burning on her tongue, one that had been niggling at her for a while. It was a subject she knew she probably shouldn't broach, but, for her own peace of mind, she needed to ask and there was no time like the present.

'Is this how it was with you and Sybil?'

Tom looked at her sharply in the mirror, his fingers stilling. 'What do you mean?'

'Before you married. Stealing illicit moments here and there.'

He was silent for a while, returning his attention to his tie, and Mary wanted to kick herself for bringing up Sybil when she knew it was a bad idea.

'No,' he said eventually. 'Sybil and I… we weren't intimate until our wedding night.'

'Oh.'

'I thought you knew that.'

'Why would I know that? Sybil and I were close, but we didn't discuss our sex lives.'

'But that night, when we tried to elope, she was in the bed and I was on the chair when you and Edith came bursting in like a couple of Furies. Don't you think if we'd been indulging in pre-marital sex you might have walked in on an entirely different scenario?'

Mary thought back to that moment. 'Do you know, I was just so relieved not to find you in bed together, I never really thought about why you were on the chair. I suppose I just assumed you were being chivalrous.'

'Sybil wanted to wait, and I'd already waited so long for her, that a while longer didn't seem to matter. I was happy just to be with her.' Tom finished with his tie and picked up his waistcoat, turning to face her. 'Why are you asking me about Sybil?'

'I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to upset you.'

'I'm not upset. I'm just… surprised.'

Mary gazed at him, a pensive look on her face. 'Matthew and I waited until our wedding night too.'

Tom said nothing, buttoning up his waistcoat as he waited for her to continue.

'I suppose I'm just wondering why it is like it is with us.'

He looked up at her, curiously. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean we can't keep our hands off each other. We're sneaking around, snatching every opportunity we can to be together. Secret kisses, furtive touches. We're taking risks we shouldn't be taking. Just look at these last few days. I just… I don't understand it. It wasn't like this with Matthew and you've just said it wasn't like this with Sybil. So, why is it like this with us?'

Tom cocked his head to one side. 'Where's this coming from, Mary?'

'I don't know. It's just been playing on my mind.'

'Maybe it's different because we're not married. Neither of us had to sneak around then.'

'Maybe,' said Mary, sounding far from convinced.

'Does it matter?'

'No, I suppose not. It's only that it bothers me a little.'

'Why?'

Mary looked away, uncertainty written on her face, before meeting his gaze again. 'You'll probably think I'm being silly, but…'

'But?'

'I feel a little disloyal to Matthew. He was the love of my life, but I never felt this… this physical hunger for him that I do now. For you.'

Tom stared at her, his face unreadable.

'I can't get enough of you, Tom. I can't bear to go a day without touching you or being touched by you. With Matthew, I… well, it was good, of course. Of course, it was – I loved him… but I didn't crave him. Not the way I do you.' Mary stopped, feeling exposed and awkward.

Tom remained silent, pushing his hands in his trouser pockets and shifting his gaze out of the window.

'I'm sorry. I've embarrassed you. I shouldn't have said anything,' Mary said stiffly, rising to her feet to go back to her own room.

Tom looked back at her. 'No. No, you haven't. I was just thinking about what you said. I don't know, Mary. Maybe we're just more physically compatible. Or maybe the secrecy makes it more exciting. Perhaps it's as simple as that.'

'Do you think so? I confess I don't know what to think. This thing between us – this arrangement – the intensity of it has rather thrown me. If I'm honest, I didn't expect it.'

'Neither did I,' he replied, softly.

'That's why I asked about Sybil. I was just trying to understand if maybe it was always this way for you.'

Tom walked over to pick up his jacket, giving himself time before answering her. 'I'll not discuss Sybil with you. Not on this subject.'

Mary flinched slightly. 'Of course. I apologise. I didn't mean to pry.'

Tom hesitated, knowing he'd hurt her but unsure how to fix it. 'I will say it's different with me and you.'

Mary watched him pull on his jacket, unable to shake the feeling that she'd said something very wrong.

'We'd better get going. It's a fair drive home,' he said, picking up his wallet and fiddling with it. 'We'll have a quick breakfast, then I'll pay the bill and get them to bring the car around. You'd better go back to your own room, so you leave by the right door.'

Mary nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and left the room, desperately trying to blink back the unexpected tears in her eyes.