A little further on Matthias could see Clem, with one of the twins alongside him, driving a team of docile oxen as they ploughed up the next field. Morley and the other twin were following in their wake removing rocks of granite that the plough had churned up and carrying them to the edge of the field to be used later for walls. Matthias passed them unseen – the last thing he wanted was the Trenchard menfolk making fun of him.

As he closed in on the farm itself he slowed his horse down from its canter to a plodding walk that matched his wilting spirits. All his bravado had disappeared by the time he reached the yard, and he made up his mind to give the flowers casually to Alice.

He prayed fervently that Rosie would be nowhere about today. But the good Lord must have decided he was capable of going forth without divine help, for there was the object of his romantic desire drawing water from the well in the middle of the yard. Matthias dismounted, braved the walk through a gaggle of hissing geese and endeavoured to look serious. His face was fiery red.

‘Good morning to you, Rosie.’ He peered nonchalantly up at the sky.

‘And to you, Preacher,’ she replied evenly, only looking at him briefly out of a moody face.

There it was, ‘Preacher’ again. Did the girl see him only as a disciple of God, perhaps like a monk, unmasculine and unapproachable. He must make the point at the Bible classes that many of the apostles had been married, even St Peter.

‘Busy are you, then?’ He hoped his voice sounded natural.

‘Aye, I am. Alice and I are doing the big wash.’

‘Um… seen any sign of Ricketty Jim today?’

‘Aye, he prepared some dung pots for Clem then took himself off. Wanted to see him, did you?’

‘No, not particularly… I… I was just wondering how he fared during the storm the other night.’

‘He was all right. If the weather’s rough he comes and stays in the barn. We invited him inside but he says he couldn’t bear to spend a minute under a proper roof.’ Good, Matthias thought, smiling tightly, he’ll probably never think of getting married then.

Rosie had stopped turning the stiff iron handle and was staring at him. Matthias gulped.

‘Is… is there something wrong?’

She reached for the pail to take it off the giant hook. ‘Pretty flowers,’ she remarked slowly.

To his horror Matthias saw he was actually holding them. He had intended to take off the ribbon and hide it in his pocket and leave the flowers hitched on his saddle.

‘They’re yours!’ he blurted out, his cheeks on fire. ‘I mean, they’re for you… if you’d like them.’

Rosie straightened up sharply and stared at him with disbelief written plainly all over her face. ‘For me?’