Rosie had become friendly with Beatrice in her childhood when she’d visited the manor with Alice. When she showed an interest in the old woman’s cupboard of mysterious looking bottles and pots Beatrice agreed to teach her how to make teas and infusions from plants and herbs. The smells of thyme, horsetail, yarrow, parsley, mint, raspberry leaf, camomile and fennel and many others filled the air when the cupboard was opened. Rosie quickly learned their cosmetic and medicinal value, and found it useful to know that dock seeds or sorrel leaves could be used as a substitute for tobacco and that lavender oil or buttercup salve would soothe burns. She was even making a little money out of her skills now. Rosina Blake had admired the shine of her golden hair and requested some of Rosie’s herbal rinse for her own use and insisted on paying for it. It gave Rosie some independence to be able to buy personal items without having to ask her father for money.

As well as the knowledge she gained, Rosie enjoyed stirring the heavy pots containing the mixtures with their heady smells and clattering about the manor kitchens. She worked with Beatrice when Ruth and Esther King were not about, and knowing of the old woman’s slovenly habits, she ensured the kitchen was left meticulously clean. Sometimes while they were busy the children would appear to see what they were doing or Kerensa popped in to chat and share a pot of tea.

Only the other day Sir Oliver had entered the kitchen while they were bottling the gorse wine. He stayed to sniff at Beatrice’s bottles and asked after Rosie’s sprained ankle. He lingered in an aimless mood and when Kerensa called to him he put a finger to his tensed lips to inform them that he did not want to be found and slipped out through the back door into the yard.

The open canopy of the oak trees allowed the mild winter sun to wink through the leaves. As Rosie looked upwards for the best patches of ivy and white-berried mistletoe, she stumbled against a large fallen tree and stayed to examine its dressing of mosses and fungi, making a mental note of them to ask Beatrice if any were non-poisonous and useful for her potions.

She went on through maturing oaks and the regrowth of thin poles of hazel, hornbeam and alder that the farmers and smallholders used, split and woven, to fence in their livestock. The largest of the standard oak trees provided timber for ships, barn roofs and panelling, and furniture for mansions and big houses all over the world. Leaves fallen from the previous season crackled under her feet; she picked some up and dropped them into the stream, watching them scurry away over the streambed pebbles. After drinking cupped handfuls of the icy flowing water she wrapped her hands inside her shawl until they were warmed and dry.