‘I didn’t realize you knew Shakespeare, Father.’ Danny looked at the old man. ‘I do think tha’s hit the nail on the head – something that’s been happening since that day they both buggered off to Appleby together, now that I think about it.’ Danny rubbed his brow.

‘Well, we’ll have to see what he’s got to say tonight – he’s been up to something.’ Archie looked at his son. Danny had forgotten what it was like to be young, but Archie hadn’t.

Rosie quickly pushed the washing into the dolly-tub and started to stir the clothes with the posser. She’d wash the sheets, rinse them and hang them on the line next to the duckpond as soon as she could, regardless of the chill wind that was blowing. She had to see Ethan, before he spoke to her father. She thought of him while she pummelled the clothes. Where had he been, these past few weeks? What had he been up to, and why had he returned now? Happen he did care for her after all.

She swept her hair back from her face and leaned into the dolly-tub. The steam from the hot water hit her face as she lifted the sheets into the earthenware sink to be rinsed. The cold water was icy this morning, and she didn’t dally long before she threaded them through the mangle to get rid of the excess water. She swore under her breath as her sleeves and skirt got wet, leaving her arms and stomach cold to the touch. Then she carried the heavy washing basket out of the wash-house, across the yard to the green where the duckpond and clothes line were, sheltered by a small plantation of trees that ran alongside the track down to Austwick. Even there the wind was biting, and Rosie wished that she had grabbed her shawl before setting about her task. Her hands were numb and red as she finally pegged the last of the sheets out and turned to look at them blowing in the breeze. Drops of water fell from them, as if they were white clouds full of rain, as she turned to shoo the goose that was Crummock’s guard dog from around her feet. She hated the honking bird; it was never quiet and had a habit of pecking you if you let it get near.

‘I see old Napoleon hasn’t lost his squawk.’ She turned and looked towards the garden gate and saw Ethan leaning over it. ‘He doesn’t know who his friend is and who his enemy is.’ He grinned; the grin that Rosie loved, the one that had made her his, on that fateful day of passion.