When she woke he had gone for his ride. Last night, despite his suggestion in the garden, he had not made any attempt to make love to her and had gently withstood her endeavours. Instead he had kissed her and held her close to him as if he was afraid to let her go. Contrary to what she suspected he feared, she was not afraid of marrying him or of being his countess, what scared her was that one day he might regret having married her and he would feel trapped and obligated as he had with Helen. She loved him and what they had now made her happy. It was enough that at this moment he loved her but Barbara had sensed his insecurity and as she showered decided to agree to marry him at Howenstowe as soon as possible.

Tommy returned around ten o'clock reinvigorated by his ride and found Barbara reading in the drawing room. He kissed her passionately as if his fears from last night were forgotten. "I'm going to shower then I'm taking you on that picnic I promised," he said as he raced upstairs. He returned in fifteen minutes in navy trousers, boots and a crisp white shirt that looked much more London than Cornwall. His hair was still wet and loosely combed into place and that droopy lock threatened to tumble forward at any moment. She wondered when he had started to wear it longer and if it was a conscious or unconscious reflection of happier days. He looked like a man in a hurry so Barbara, dressed in jeans and a light jumper, grabbed her jacket as they headed out the door into a pleasantly warm, sunny day.

Tommy helped her into the Land Rover then drove up a track on the estate that led to the cliffs. "It's beautiful up here on a day like today," he said cheerily, "we rode up here this morning and I found a spot perfect for our picnic." He turned off the track and selected a lower range then headed down into an isolated gully overlooking the sea.

Tommy parked the car at the head of a track that led down to a secluded cove. She climbed out of the Defender and he took her hand. A few weeks ago she had shrugged off his hand thinking he was treating her as a child when he claimed he did not want to be separated in the crowd. Now she understood he wanted her to hold his hand so that he felt safe. That haunted, insecure boy that was still trapped inside him craved love. "Tommy," she said as they started to descend. "I love you."

He looked momentarily puzzled then broke out his grin. "I know. I love you too." He gave her a quick kiss then led on eagerly past a small tangle of straggly shrubs to the beach. She recognised it from the photographs. It was where he had been with his father learning to swim. It was a small beach barely two hundred yards long. The coarse sand sloped up gradually to a band of tumbled rocks beneath the eroded grey cliffs. The twin headlands jutted out to sea further than would normally be expected which allowed the currents and surf to sweep past them making the cove's waters calm and clear. Tommy started to jog excitedly towards the nearest headland but Barbara's legs screamed against the effort of running on sand. When they stopped she was breathless and he was standing looking out to sea as if he was being energized by it.

There was a rock shelf beneath the headland and the waves pounded it constantly in perpetual battle to wear it down. Today it stood firm but eventually the sea's relentless barrage would triumph. Barbara watched the green ocean rise with a swooshing hiss and curl grey over the rock platform then explode onto the base of the cliff in a fury of foaming white that ran along the well-worn cracks and runnels made by countless ancestors then dropped back to join the sea. There was harmony and order yet randomness. The briny tang of the air intensified with every bass crash of the waves then died away, stolen in the momentary silence by the ocean reclaiming its soldiers.

They took off their shoes and walked along the beach picking up driftwood and throwing it back into the sea. Tommy made Barbara laugh when he used an enormous branch to draw a heart and arrow in the sand with their initials intertwined. "Anyone would think we were sixteen," she teased.

"We both missed this at that age so why can't we do it now? Why can't we have a carefree love where everything is possible and there is nothing to stop us except our own fears?" He pulled her close and held her to him as he lightly kissed her hair. "I know reality is out there waiting for us but I want to create times with you that in the future, when things get tough, we can go back to and hide in and know that no matter what we face we are with each other, supporting each other and always loving each other."

"We've always had that."

"I know but now we don't have to imagine the missing bits, we can have them too," he said with a wicked twinkle in his eye that made Barbara wish they were back in his bedroom. If his words were true then he had harboured, to some degree, the same desires she had over the years. It would certainly explain some of his possessiveness and jealousy.

Water lapped at her feet and for a few minutes as they kissed Barbara thought he was going to make love to her in the waves. The thought was tantalizing and as he pressed against her she could feel his interest but instead he broke free from her embrace and challenged her to race along the beach. She jogged a little to appease him and roared with laughter when he was showing off running backwards in front of her and stepped into a channel up to his knees. "Serves you right!" Your other idea was much better!

Twenty minutes later they climbed back up to the vehicle and Tommy pulled a large wicker basket, a bag and blanket from the rear luggage bay. "See I told you we would do the whole nineteenth century style picnic."

"Knowing you, you had them buy a wicker basket just to prove your point!"

"Are you accusing me of deception Sergeant Havers?"

"No Sir, never," she replied still not fully believing him.

He carried the basket purposefully across the grass to a spot he seemed to have pre-selected on his morning ride and then came back for the rug and bag. She imagined him on his steed surveying the coastline for just the right spot. She had to admit it was a beautiful view. The distance cliffs, with their strong grey walls that drew the eye to the green tipped moors, were the perfect backdrop for the lighter streak of sand beneath them and the translucent blues and greys of the sea. Barbara was fascinated by the rhythm of the water which seemed to move over the wet sand in time with her breathe. It was a perfect spot for their picnic. She only hoped his horse had not left any calling cards while he was there.

She watched Tommy spread out the rug then open the basket to pull out a classic red and white check cloth which he draped carefully over the rug. "You really are into the swing of it,' she said unsure if she was impressed or bemused – probably both.

He pointed out a yacht on the water and as she watched it cutting across the mouth of the cove she could hear him rustling in the bag. When she turned around she laughed uproariously. Tommy had fastened a bowtie around his collar and donned an old black blazer with violet-red stripes. It was too tight across his shoulders but he held his head back to lessen the strain. Her eyes were drawn magnetically up to his head which was crowned by a battered and possibly moth-eaten straw boater with a sweat-stained ribbon that matched his tie. Barbara could not contain her reaction and collapsed onto the rug in a paroxysm of laughter. "What on earth Tommy?" she finally managed to splutter.

He managed to sound quite indignant at her outburst. 'I'll have you know that this was my Exeter College boating rig at Oxford. I thought it would add the perfect nineteenth century feel to the day." He was grinning broadly and sat down next to her careful not to over-strain his coat seams.

As she looked at him she doubted she could love him more. This was a side of his personality she had only glimpsed before the last month but one she could get quite used to seeing. She gingerly pulled on his lapels afraid they might tear from the coat and pulled him down to her. "Do you have any idea how special you make me feel?" she asked before she kissed him.

"Because you are special." Tommy sat up and retrieved a small book from his pocket. He edged his legs around and nestled Barbara's head in his lap. "Comfy?" he asked and she nodded. He smiled down at her and opened the book and began to read.

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death"

Barbara looked up at him through teary eyes as he lowered the book. "That was beautiful Tommy," she said choking back the urge to cry.

"It's Sonnet 43 from 'Sonnets from the Portuguese'. Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote it in about 1845 to her fiancé Robert Browning but when they were published she implied they were translations of sonnets from Portuguese poets so as to disguise the highly personal nature of their relationship."

"The poem was wonderful but I actually meant you setting all this up and reading me love poems. The thought and the way you did it was so sweet. I'm lost for words."

Tommy took off his jacket and tie then shuffled around so that he was lying next to her. He removed his hat and plonked it haphazardly on her head in a light-hearted gesture. As she looked at the joy in his eyes she could not help herself and tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm happy too,' he said as he leant over and kissed away her tears before his mouth found hers. His kiss was so devoted and caring that Barbara felt guilty wanting it to turn into something more carnal. Slowly he pulled away and sat up leaving Barbara frustrated. "Time we ate."

Tommy opened the wicket basket to reveal a smorgasbord of delights. On the inside of the basket lid brown leather straps held down two sets of white plates and bowls which he carefully removed and placed on the cloth. Next he lifted out two freshly baked baguettes and two covered plates, one with meats and savouries and the other with salads. Various condiments came out next and finally a bottle of wine and two large wine glasses. Barbara just shook her head. "You have thought of everything," she said as he poured their wine."

"Yes and if you don't like the wine I have a bottle of beer for you."

"Dunno if the future Lady Asherton oughtta be drinkin' ale M'Lord!" she said in her best imitation of a Dickensian wench. "I think one had best adapt one's palate to fine wine," she added in a passable imitation of Princess Anne.

Tommy grinned at her in that special way and her frustration turned to rampant desire that she was finding harder to fight. "The future Lady Asherton can drink whatever she likes as long as she drinks it with me," he replied handing her a glass. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

She wanted to make love to him and talk about the wedding but she also wanted to eat. Food won - they could spend all afternoon losing themselves in each other and she would need her stength. They sat side by side looking out at the ocean as they ate. Tommy kept looking across at her and smiling and she knew her face radiated adoration for him. "Tommy," she said, "about the wedding."

"Yes," he said slowly obviously wary of what she was about to say.

"I want to do it as soon as we can." She saw his shoulders drop in relief. "Maybe a small tent on your lawn or something although it would be nice looking out over the sea."

"Oh I'm so glad Barbara; I thought that you were getting cold feet or that I was rushing you. What you said yesterday was right, it has been a heady month but I know this is right for us. Don't ask me how, and I know you will say I thought the same about Deborah and even traipsed forlornly across the moors after her but this is different. With you I've found a certainty I never had. You make me feel complete, like I had lost something and now with you I have it again. I know that doesn't make much sense but it's only when I'm with you that I can be myself. I can dress up and be a fool or I can be the serious Earl and I don't fear being either like I do with everyone else."

She put her arm around him and their gaze locked. "I understand exactly what you mean." She knew she did not have to explain further.

"I originally intended to bring you to this spot to propose but that took care of itself last week and now that we have sorted the wedding details there is only one thing left to decide," he said reaching back into the basket and gently lifting out a large cake box.

"Don't tell me you've had your cook bake samples of different types of wedding cakes?"

Tommy laughed. "I never thought of that. You need to make another decision though."

He handed Barbara the box and she opened it to see a large cake with a detailed map of Europe decorating the top. She looked up at him astounded and Tommy had a peek. "Well, the cook did exceed herself!" he exclaimed.

The cake was covered in layer of firm, light blue fondant that had subtle variations in texture and colour to imitate the waves and currents. On top there were cut out fondant countries in different brilliant shades. England was white, Scotland blue, Ireland green and Wales was red. The other countries had similar identifying colours and each had little yellow dots to denote the capitals. Velvety white frosting was piled up to form the Alps and bold knife strokes had carved out the Norwegian fjords. A large hat pin was placed in London.

"You simply have to place the pin wherever you want to go for our honeymoon and then we can eat it. It looks delicious."

"When did you organise all this?"

"During the week. That's why I went to the kitchen last night. I wanted to check on progress." He was not smug but he was clearly pleased with himself.

"Thomas Lynley you are the most amazing man! No one at work would ever believe their moody DI could be so irresistibly romantic." She leant over to kiss him but he dodged her.

"Or that their irascible sergeant could be such a passionate lover," he retorted, "now choose somewhere so we can have our dessert." She could tell from his tone he was not necessarily referring to the cake.