“Evie, Roane.” Bobby made his way through the sheep, pitchfork in hand. His T-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he wiped a hand across his forehead. “This weather is grand, eh.”

His tone was bland, but since he was sweating by the buckets and was red in the face, I decided that had been sarcasm.

“How are they?” Roane nodded to the flock in the hoop house.

“Aye, they’re fine.” Bobby grinned at me. “Enjoying the tour?”

“It’s interesting.”

“This is the end of it.” Roane’s lips twitched with amusement. “Nothing else to see, angel, but fields upon fields.”

“What about the arable farm?”

He flicked a look at Bobby before glancing over his shoulder to check on Shadow. “It’s all just the same except no animals. The hoop houses over there are for keeping hay and the barns for holding grain and barley.”

Shadow stood in the shelter of the farmhouse door. “Come.” Roane gestured to the house. “I’ll show you inside. My great-grandfather built this place.”

With a wave to Bobby, I followed Roane to the house. The farmhouse was rectangular with the door jutting out, built into a porch that looked like a mini house with its sharp triangular roof. There were two windows downstairs to either side of the door, and upstairs there were four windows. The windows were made of white wooden frames with six small glass panels in each.

As soon as Roane let us into the porch, I smiled. The porch had two windows on either side, allowing light into the small space. There was a bench under each window, covered in tartan blankets and cushions. An old-fashioned coat and umbrella stand stood in the corner beside a row of men’s shoes. It was fairly cool in the porch, a nice reprieve from the heat outside, and Shadow seemed to agree, sprawling across the cool slate tile floor.

Roane sat down on one of the benches and began to remove his Wellingtons. I followed suit, ridiculously relieved to get out of the hot boots. I pulled my sunglasses off my head, useless as they were up there, and set them beside me.

Our eyes met as we sat across the bench from each other, and something in Roane’s expression made my breath catch. “What?” I whispered.

He shook his head with a mysterious smile and stood up to hold out his hand. “Want to see the rest?”

Of course I did. I took his hand and let him lead me through the inner porch door and into the farmhouse. A wall of heat hit me, and not for the first time since summer came to Northumberland, I cursed the British and their lack of air-conditioning.

As if he’d read my thoughts, Roane chuckled. “Old houses weren’t built with insulation like nowadays where it keeps the house warm during the winter and cool during the summer.”