Luke downed two glasses of wine, poured a third and ripped a plump leg off a chicken carcass. Eating on his feet, he shared out the ointments, salves and tinctures into two lots. Buttercup salve for burns, comfrey for bruises, soapwort to soothe inflamed flesh, a gargle for the throat.

‘I have no need of them, Luke, my arm is just a little sore now. I just want to rest, lie on a soft clean bed. I’m so tired.’ Alicia yawned, and gazed pleadingly at Jack.

‘We should go before Sir Oliver returns,’ Jack said, suddenly wanting nothing less than being under the scrutiny of the baronet’s eagle-sharp eyes.

‘You’ll have to carry her. I’ll get a lantern and light your way,’ Luke said. ‘And for God’s sake, act naturally.’

Act naturally! With death and shame behind them, and he with a wife of a higher class brought home with him. Jack let out an almost hysterical laugh.

‘The lady will remain until we’ve been introduced,’ came a strong, authoritative voice from the doorway.

Luke whirled round, hurting his stiff arm, and met the direct stare of his father’s stern eyes.

‘Welcome home, son.’

Kerensa pushed past Oliver and rushed to Luke. Paralysed with emotion, he embraced her tightly, burying his face against her neck. Angry with himself for putting his feelings on display, he finally found his voice. ‘It’s good to see you again, Mama.’

When he let her go, his eyes were damp and he felt ashamed. Ashamed to be seen crying, ashamed to come back home a failure. His father was the next to be embraced, then Kelynen and then the tiny Cordelia, and by the time he had given his final hug he had buried his feelings away deep inside.

Jack was welcomed home, but in view of his bandages handshakes were not exchanged.

‘Michael informed us of your and Jack’s injuries,’ Oliver said, pushing Luke down on a chair and taking his son’s wrists to study his wounds. ‘Tell all.’

Luke and Jack glanced at each other.

Luke spoke, ‘There was a fire at the inn we stayed in on the first night of our travels home. It was only by God’s grace we escaped alive. The lady is Alicia, Mrs Jack Rosevear. Jack has taken a surname.’

Oliver raised his black brows.

Tearing her eyes away from Luke, Kerensa exclaimed, ‘You’re married, Jack? Really? How wonderful. We’re very pleased to meet you, Mrs Rosevear. It’s terrible you had such a perilous start on your journey down here.’

Alicia tried to rise but Kerensa was beside her, perching on the edge of the sofa, bringing a candlestick near so she could gain a clearer view of the groom’s wife. She was astonished at the extent of the fearfulness staring back at her. Flawless skin over fine cheekbones, a lovely mouth and perfect poise spoke of refined living.