‘I don’t rightly know. I can never work as a maid again. Word will have got round. And none of the mills are taking on. Maybe I will have do t’ same as Mary after all.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense!’ he replied. ‘There must be jobs you can do.’

Hannah shook her head. She couldn’t think of any, especially if people had heard that she was untrustworthy.

‘Perhaps I should go and speak to them,’ he said. ‘I could try to explain that it wasn’t entirely your fault. That you were coerced into giving them the letter. I could speak for you. They might take some notice.’

‘Only if I put the blame on someone else. They’d never believe it otherwise,’ Hannah told him. ‘Anyway, it’s too late. I went round to see Jane and her house is all locked up. I think she must have gone back.’

‘I see.’

They’d reached the edge of the town and they stood looking out at the bleak moorland that surrounded the valley. It was growing dark and a huge full moon was sitting on the horizon just above the distant hills.

‘My parents live up there, at Ramsgreave,’ she told him. ‘I know they’d welcome me home, but there’s no call for hand spinners any more. I’d only be a burden to them if I went back. I’m a burden wherever I am. Nobody wants me.’

‘Don’t say that, Hannah.’

‘But it’s true. Isn’t it? Maybe I should just set off walking, and walk and walk until I can’t go no further …’

‘Now you’re just being dramatic.’ He put an arm around her shoulders. ‘I know you’re not dishonest, Hannah. I’m sorry if you thought I was judging you. I was just taken by surprise. If I’m angry with anyone, then it’s Titus. He really should have known better.’

She leaned against his warm, solid body. He hadn’t walked away from her and she was thankful for that, but something had changed between them and she wasn’t sure what was going to happen now.

‘Come to the poets’ corner with me,’ he said suddenly. ‘We can sit down and have a think about what to do. And it’ll be a sight warmer than standing out here.’

They turned back towards the town. The lamps were being lit and they flickered in the wind, casting eerie shadows and filling the streets with a smell of gas. James led the way towards a small beerhouse on the corner of Bradshaw Street and Nab Lane. He held the door open for her and she went in, wishing that he’d gone first as she heard the lull in the conversation as people looked at her. A group of serious-looking men were gathered around the fire and one of them was reading out his poem. She and James stood and listened, and when he was finished James ushered her forward and one of the men stood up to give her his place on a polished chair. She eased the shawl from her head and let it lie over her arms as James introduced her.