‘Nay, lad, you can’t blame me for his curiosity about where he comes from. Everybody wants to know that. Rosie was only being kind.’ Archie looked up at his son and then poked the fire, knowing he shouldn’t say another word on the subject.

‘Aye, well, she’s back now, I suppose that’s all that matters,’ said Danny. ‘But I will have a word with his father; happen he can square Ethan up a bit.’

Harriet went quietly to the pantry and cut a slice of bread and cheese, then took it up to her heartbroken daughter without Danny noticing. ‘Don’t cry, Rosie, your father’s not going to do anything to Ethan. He’s never hit anybody yet, and he knows he needs him this summertime.’ She ran her fingers through her daughter’s long hair as she sobbed in her arms. ‘You know, you may think a lot of Ethan, but he’s just the first boy in your life, and there will be a lot more yet. And he isn’t worth lying for.’ Harriet kissed her daughter on her brow and hugged her tightly. ‘He didn’t do anything to you, did he, Rosie?’

‘What do you mean, Mother?’ Rosie looked up at Isabelle.

‘You didn’t lift your skirts for him, did you, dear?’ Harriet hated asking, but it was one of the first things that had entered her head when Rosie came into the kitchen.

‘Only to climb onto the horse. He did see my ankles, Mama.’ Rosie blushed.

‘That’s alright, dear, we’ll let him get away with that. Remember, though, that Ethan’s nearly a man – a man with urges. Don’t get too close to him. Now you eat your bread and cheese and tidy yourself up. Your father will have calmed down by the morning and will soon forgive you both.’ She stood up and looked down at her distraught daughter.

‘I’m sorry, Mama,’ Rosie sniffed.

‘Just don’t let your heart rule your head, Rosie. You are almost a woman, and you can’t act like a child any more. Perhaps more time with your cousin Jane would help. She’s quite the young lady, and you could do worse than follow her lead.’

‘Please, Mama, I think I’d rather be belted by my father than spend time with Jane.’

‘We will be visiting Skipton and the store next week. You are having your photograph taken by Uncle James. You can see Jane then, while I spend time with your Aunt Isabelle. Thank heavens she can’t see you in this state. Now, get yourself washed and to bed, for tomorrow is another day.’ Harriet closed the bedroom door behind her, listening to the sobs of her daughter. Archie was right: she was growing up, but she was still a little girl really, and always would be, in her mother’s eyes.