Kerensa wanted to go further than the grounds and chose a route along the twisting country lanes that had begun life as wide detours to avoid puddles and quagmires, when the ground was common pasture land centuries ago, and now ran between Orchard Hill and Polcudden Farms. Seeing that she wished to be alone, Jack dropped back a few paces on Meryn but did not take his eyes off her back. They next rode the narrow rutted cart track at the edge of Rose Farm and Jack hoped she would soon want to return home, agonising over how much longer he should bite his tongue and remain silent.

Kerensa was beginning to feel lighthearted; the cobwebs of the long weeks spent cooped up in the manor dissolved from her mind and colour seeped into her cheeks. Tall tapering foxgloves grew proudly out of the low hedgerows. Buttercups and daisies vied with each other to fill every available space of the grassy verges and the perimeters of the planted fields. Dandelion clocks danced on a soft breeze. A swallow looking for food in a long-winged graceful flight gave Kerensa a sudden feeling of freedom and she began humming a country song.

When they were in sight of the rowan trees that conveniently marked the ground where Polcudden Farm ended and Trecath-en Farm took over, Jack moved Meryn up to Kerensa’s side and spoke anxiously.

‘M’lady, don’t you think we should be going back now?’

‘Pardon?’ She turned, having heard his voice as if it was part of a faraway dream.

‘We’ve been out nearly an hour, be nearly two when we get back.’

‘It was Adam Renfree who said to stay out for an hour, not me, Jack. You may go back if you wish, I shall carry on.’

‘No, no, I’ll go on with you, m’lady,’ Jack said quickly, worried that her lighthearted mood was blotting out her good sense. ‘Whatever you say is fine by me.’

‘Good, we’ll leave it at that then, shall we?’

They rode on, Jack dropping back as he had before. Five minutes later they rounded a bend in the track which brought them well on to Trecath-en land and there they saw three men approaching on foot.

Kerensa turned round to Jack. ‘Who are they, Jack? Do you know them?’

‘Can’t say I do, m’lady,’ Jack replied, gazing at the men through anxious eyes. ‘Rovers probably by the look of ’em, probably looking for work on the farms.’

They passed the men, giving a brief nod to each one. One muttered, ‘Mornin’ to ’ee, lady.’ Another looked down on the ground without speaking and spat at Meryn’s hooves. The other looked sideways at them through slitted yellowing eyes. All were unkempt and unwashed, their clothes rough and greasy.