Moon Cutters by Janet Woods

embracing her inside.
    Eventually, she opened her eyes and moved out to the landing window. The moon gradually rose and the night was saturated in its light. Shadows elongated in the garden.
    She wondered if he might have walked out of his painting and she’d imagined him, after all, except she suddenly saw him in the shadows below the window. He was heading towards the woods at an easy lope, the three dogs silent shadows at his heels.
    He stopped in the shadow of a horse chestnut – one that had recently delighted her by unfurling feathers of spring greenery from their brown sticky casings. He turned and blew her a kiss.
    There was a whistle from beneath her. The dogs turned, sniffed at the air and then headed towards the noise at speed. She must go down before Sir James came looking for her and caught her in this room.
    ‘So that was Fletcher Taunt,’ she whispered, smiling as she quietly closed the door and floated downstairs on knees that seemed as liquid as water after the confrontation.
    ‘Ah … there you are. I was just coming up to find you,’ Sir James said from the hall below, making her jump. ‘Have you seen the dogs?’
    Sir James occupied a space patterned by ribbons of incandescent moonlight reflecting from a mirror. The air was filled with tension. As if he’d suspected his nephew had been here!
    She hoped her breathlessness wasn’t apparent in her voice as she raced to tell him, ‘The dogs rushed out past me when I went upstairs. I’m sorry if I took too long. Lucy asked me to wait until she fell asleep, and from our window I could see a blue light winking. I thought it was a lantern on the shore.’
    ‘Was the light steady or sparking?’
    ‘Steady, I think. What was it?’
    ‘A reflection of the stars on water, I should imagine.’
    She nodded. ‘My attention was then captured by the light coming through the window of the landing. The moon is so large and pretty tonight, and as bright as day. The dogs were over near the woods by then.’
    ‘The front door was standing open. Did you open it?’
    ‘No. I thought one of the dogs had managed to open it, until they pushed past me upstairs. I was about to tell you about it. Do you think it was an intruder?’
    ‘If there had been an intruder, the dogs would have let me know. Either it was someone they knew or, more likely, they opened it, went out and came back. Caesar hasn’t learned how to close it behind him yet. I’ll have to get down on my hands and knees and demonstrate.’
    The dogs scrabbled at the door and it slowly opened. They tried to push through it at the same time, a dozen legs sliding and scrabbling on the stone doorstep.
    Miranda laughed. ‘He must have heard you.’
    He harshly addressed the dogs, ‘You’re not supposed to use this entrance or provide entertainment for my guests. Into the kitchen and stay there, you pests.’
    They headed across the hall in a race of heated bodies and panting tongues, their tails between their legs.
    As Sir James watched them go, a lump gathered in Miranda’s throat. It was obvious he was as fond and indulgent with his dogs as he would be with children, if he’d had any. Lucy had grown fond of him, which worried her a little. He was lonely, and Miranda wanted to hug that from him. She wouldn’t, of course. Although something about Sir James instinctively drew pity from her, another instinct feared him.
    When they went back into the drawing room, Sarah Tibbets gazed from one to the other suspiciously. ‘You were a long time.’
    ‘Miss Jarvis was captivated by the moon on her way down the stairs, and I was distracted by her joy in the sight of it. It’s full. There is something quite enchanting about a young woman standing looking at the moon, as though she’s bidding farewell to her lover.’
    He offered her a guileless smile when she gave him a sharp look.
    Andrew Patterson was more practical. ‘Not a night for smugglers, then; they’ll be cursing the moon tonight.’
    ‘Aye,