But tears suddenly stung his eyes as he knew with a deep painful ache that he could not possess her. He couldn’t bring himself to perform the act of love that would meet their long-time need, that would claim her as his own. Not after what she had told him two days ago. Not when he was so fully aware of the outward curve of her gently rounded stomach – and the presence of another man’s baby living and growing between them.

The tension and desire left Kerensa when she realised Clem had stopped returning her love. She read the pain in his eyes and pulling her hands from his she tenderly wiped away his tears. Then they cried together. They held on to each other, their nakedness no embarrassment or barrier to their special need for closeness and comfort. They stroked each other, not intimately as in the way of wakening a physical response or in the natural winding down after the deep emotional release of lovemaking, but to give reassurance and affection.

‘I hate to see you hurt like this,’ Clem said, his voice carrying fragments of his anguished emotions.

‘Why, Clem?’ she whispered. ‘Why did you stop?’

‘I couldn’t go through with it, not with your body showing the beginning of the new life you’re bearing. It’s not my baby. It reminded me you’re another man’s wife, and that you love him more than me. Kerensa,’ he moved to look at her full in the face, ‘I know you love me and in your distress it was all too easy to turn to me, to make love with me and block out your pain. Tell me this, my love, how would you be feeling now if we had made love? Could you look me in the face without the horror coming to you of what we’d done.’

A different kind of horror showed on her face. ‘Oh Clem, don’t think I was using you.’

‘You didn’t mean to, my love, but don’t you see? We would never be in this situation now if things weren’t desperately wrong between you and Pengarron. You didn’t come to me because you’ve fallen out of love with him or can’t live without me. It hurts me to know how much you love him and you don’t love him any the less because of his wretched behaviour. If we had made love, if you didn’t hate yourself now it would happen tonight, tomorrow or next week and you might have found yourself hating me for being so weak and selfish. It’s been hard living these last years without you, but knowing you could never meet me face to face again without feeling a sense of shame…’He could say no more.