Rosie lay on her back next to Ethan. It was a dazzling warm day. The air was alive with the buzz of insects and the hot sun shone down on them both, making them feel lazy. It was a day to relax and enjoy.

‘Your father will wonder where I’ve got to. I don’t want to upset the apple cart in my first week of working at Crummock.’ Ethan rolled over onto his side and looked at the innocent young woman alongside him. The sun shone on her fine blonde hair, making it look like angel’s breath. He watched as she closed her eyes to shelter them from the sun’s rays. Her long, fine lashes threw shadows on her blushing red cheeks as she lay enjoying the summer heat.

‘Don’t worry, Ethan, he and my grandfather have gone to the market in Settle. They won’t be back until before supper, and they’ll not even know you’ve gone,’ she whispered, as she stretched out over the bed of wild thyme that omitted its heady herbal perfume around them.

‘But your ma! Won’t she be missing you?’ Ethan lay back down and looked into the sun.

‘She’ll not miss me, nor you. I often wander, once I’ve done my chores. As long as I turn up for my supper, she’ll not think anything of it.’ Rosie opened her eyes and turned onto her side to look at the young dark-skinned, curly-haired lad. Feeling full of mischief, she picked a sprig of purple-flowering thyme and tickled him under the nose with it, teasing him as he lay back with his arms under his head.

‘Stop it, you tease.’ Ethan wiped under his nose and laughed. ‘Where do you wander to? You shouldn’t really, not on your own.’ He looked concerned.

‘Depends how I feel. Sometimes I just walk down into Wharfe.’ She pointed down at the hamlet that lay tucked under the limestone outcrops below them. ‘Sometimes I walk over to Clapham and wander through the grand garden that the Farrer family owns. And sometimes I walk over the fells, nearly into Horton. Wherever I go, I prefer to be out on my own. You can smell the breeze and feel the sun on your face while listening to the skylarks singing, without having to be bothered to talk to anybody.’ Rosie tucked her skirts under her knees and sat clasping her hands around her legs. ‘I need to be outside, not helping my mother wash or bake in the kitchen. Sometimes I wish I had been born a boy. I’d have been able to help my father more then, and be outside all the time.’