Rosie told herself many times not to go and look at the foxes with Sir Oliver. It was possible that looking at the wildlife wasn’t the only thing on his lordship’s mind. She had agreed to meet him alone and although it didn’t mean she had given him her consent to anything more it might be seen as an encouragement. It could lead to all sorts of complications; he was married, her father’s landlord, of a different class. But he was sophisticated and handsome and being with him spelled romance and adventure. Which ever way she looked at it she knew it wasn’t right, but she knew she would go in the end.

Oliver had no doubts about it when he’d abruptly left the manor instead of staying to receive the Reverend Ivey. He was waiting for her on the other side of the stepping stones.

‘Have you told anyone you were coming here today?’ he asked, his voice strong and confident. He smiled in his striking way and held out a hand to help her to the firm leafy ground in front of him.

‘No, I thought the family wouldn’t understand,’ she replied, both her cheeks lightly burning, ‘and if anyone else wanted to come they might disturb the foxes.’

Oliver raised an eyebrow into a sensuous curve. ‘The foxes, yes, of course. But your brother would not allow you to go anywhere that involved me in any case, would he?’

‘No, sir, he would not.’

Rosie put her hands in under her cloak and wondered what his hand would have felt like round hers in that fleeting moment if she had not been wearing gloves. She was determined to get everything possible out of this time spent alone with him. She was not embarrassed by him now, though still filled with awe, and his teasing no longer disconcerted her.

They quickly reached the clearing where Rosie had spied on him and Nathan. Oliver looked up at the muddy grey sky through the swaying trees. A light wind rustled the remnant of shrivelled brown leaves that clung persistently to the branches.

‘The rain held off for most of the day, Rosie,’ he said contemplatively, ‘otherwise it may have been too wet for you to come along.’

Rosie had followed his eyes upwards. ‘I like the sound of the wind in the trees, it’s like waves coming into shore.’

‘Yes, and the wind can match the sea’s every mood and wreak just as much havoc.’ He glanced at her feet and remarked, ‘I see you had a rather wet and muddy walk.’