‘I don’t need to do that, I can assure you of that too!’

‘I don’t think you really do believe you can stop me and Ameline meeting. I think you’re bluffing.’ He lowered his head and spoke straight at her. ‘Of course, if you want to make sure of it, you can always take her place.’

Kerensa’s hand flew sharply across his cheek. ‘I should have you whipped for that!’

Bartholomew’s head was hurled sideways but he turned straight back to meet the rage in her face with a supercilious smile. ‘Do it again,’ he said, between his teeth. ‘I like it.’ Kerensa shrieked. She slapped his other cheek with all her might. Then beating her fists against his chest she pushed him over heavily on to the shingle. Before he could recover from the shock she wrenched his head back by a vicious handful of his long black hair.

‘It’s time you grew up, young man! You’re not half as unlikeable as you would have people believe. I can see straight through you. You’re trying to emulate Sir Oliver but you’re making a very poor job of it. Those who know him will tell you you’re no match for him. He had qualities at half your age you can’t even dream of. It’s time you stopped playing the brave young hero and looked after your mother and your brothers and sisters properly. I forbid you to set foot on Pengarron land again until you can at least try to be truly like its present owner!’

When it was over Kerensa was out of breath. She let go of Bartholomew’s hair; the scrap of red sailcloth that held it back was in her hand. He let his head fall forward, unable to look her in the eye. Kerensa moved away from him, her chest heaving and tears searing her eyes.

The tide was on its way in, the waves sweeping and lifting the shingle towards her feet. Kerensa could not stop shivering. Tears gathered at her eyes but refused to give way and bring relief. The wind tugged at her hat and she swept it off and pulled at the tip of its one lone decorative feather. She stood still for several long moments, unaware that Bartholomew had come to stand beside her until he gently nudged her arm.

‘I didn’t know you had such a hot temper,’ he said. ‘That was quite a speech.’

‘What?’ she said numbly. ‘Oh… I surprised myself.’

‘You’re very loyal to Sir Oliver.’ His eyes were set grimly on a distant pinnacle of rock under the cliff face just above sea level.

‘Yes.’

‘There’s something wrong, isn’t there? You’re not just angry with me.’

‘Why do you say that?’