He had brushed and combed his lank dark hair and oiled it away from his face where it tended to be unruly, then painstakingly tied it back with a bow. His cleanshaven neck and chin were anointed with the dregs of an intoxicating cologne from a discarded bottle of Captain Solomon’s, secretly procured from a rubbish pail and hidden away for use on special occasions.

There was no thought in Jack’s mind of seducing Heather. A long chat to get to know each other better and perhaps a kiss or two before going home would do for tonight.

Jack had heard talk about Heather at the Bible classes. She was said to be ‘loose’, ‘free with her favours’, and prayers for her soul were given regularly. Jack wasn’t sure if he believed the talk. He didn’t want to believe it. Matthias Renfree said she ‘couldn’t help the way she was’, the Almighty God would be merciful to her, and the members of the Society were obliged to treat her in the same way. Jack saw himself as Heather’s personal saviour, leading her away from a wayward life, helping her to start a new one, living quietly in his cottage as his wife. It was a pleasant, cosy idea. But would Heather agree?

If anyone was abroad under the frosty star-lit sky and saw two lanterns making a haphazard passage over the Downs to meet at the right of way, they might have mistaken the bobbing lights for those being carried by incautious free-traders or, even more frightening, by unrestful spirits. An amused smile might have curled their mouths if they had stayed to make out the figures of a youth on horseback and a girl on foot, moving closer together, until the lanterns became still, one beside the other.

‘’Tis a mite cold tonight, Heather,’ Jack said bashfully. ‘Thank you for coming to see me.’

Heather put her lantern on the cold hard ground and looked at Jack from the glow of his which he held at face level. ‘I thought to stay ’ome an’ keep warm by the fire, we’ve got plenty of peat in, but then I wanted t’find out what yer made of, Jack. Aren’t ’ee goin’ t’give me a kiss then?’

‘Of course. I thought in a m—’

Heather had no interest in preliminary small talk and gave Jack a full passionate kiss from her open fleshy lips then pushed him away.

‘Come on then,’ she purred, ‘since you’ve gone to all this trouble t’get all dressed up and t’smell so sweet fer me…’

Jack was still reeling from the shock of the girl’s hot mouth on his. ‘Wh-what do you want?’

‘I mean, come on!’ She cast off the shabby cloak wrapped over her dress and shawl and spread it over the crackling dead heather and ferns.

‘What are you doing, Heather?’ Jack whispered nervously at her back, looking about guiltily.