The Bonbon Girl. Linda Finlay

down and make yourself comfortable,’ he invited, mischief lighting up his eyes as he gestured to a nearby bale.

      ‘Honestly, Kitto Rowse, you do know how to spoil a girl,’ she quipped, wrinkling her nose at the ripe smell emanating from piles of dung and goodness knows what else. Still, paupers couldn’t be pickers, she thought, easing herself down on the straw.

      ‘Soon as I’m qualified I’ll take you to the finest hotel where you will sit on a velvet-cushioned chair and feast on the finest food to celebrate our betrothal,’ he promised. Remembering her outing with Fenton the previous day, Colenso shook her head.