‘Cross then?’ he persisted, bending down to help her and very nearly cracking his head on hers.

‘Not cross either.’

She was beginning to sound exasperated. Matthias ran anxious fingers through his hair. He didn’t want to leave Rosie until he had straightened things out with her. And he definitely did not want to rejoin the others and have them laugh at him. Rosie glanced up from her cleaning and saw his desperate face. She softened again.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what really happened.’

‘It’s not just that, although I would appreciate it, Rosie,’ he said glumly. ‘If my father got to hear of it he would take me for an idiot.’ Straightening up he stood back out of her way.

‘There, it’s all cleaned up now,’ she said a few minutes later. ‘Not as bad as it looked.’

‘Is the floor still greasy?’ he tried to sound calm and caring. ‘I wouldn’t want you to slip again.’

‘Everything’s fine, Preacher— Matthias.’ She tilted her head to the side, her golden plait swaying like a pendulum. She was curious now to know why he was here, and a little hopeful. ‘Did you want to see me about something?’

He hesitated, his mouth gaping open, and the moment was lost.

‘No, no… that is, I rode over to see if I’d left something here. I just called in to say good morning.’

So that was all! ‘Well, the morning is nearly over,’ Rosie said tartly, ‘I daresay Alice will ask you to eat with us. She’ll be calling any moment now. Excuse me, I need to change my skirt.’

It was a painful reminder that once before Rosie had had to change her skirt because of his own peculiar clumsiness.

‘Yes, yes, of course, don’t let me keep you. I… I… I’m not really hungry and we’re very busy on Ker-an-Mor. Alice did invite me to stay for dinner but please give her my apologies. Besides, I can hardly sit at her table in wet clothes. I must go. I have a lot to get on with.’ It all came out in rapid garbled words.

Rosie walked away from him as if she’d lost interest. ‘Goodbye then,’ she said, and left him alone in the dairy.

All the way to the top of Trecath-en valley Matthias cursed himself. Why was it that he, who could talk so long and eloquently on God and salvation, and offer wise counsel to those many years his senior, could not simply ask a girl to look on him as a suitor? Why did he get embarrassed and tongue-tied and behave like a clumsy oaf? ‘You’ll lose her!’ he angrily warned himself.

Fiercely pulling his nag to a halt he threw back his head at the sky and cried with real anguish, ‘Oh God! I can’t stand any more of this!’