‘A girl, eh? Let me see… Rosie Trenchard, she’s a pretty little thing. Got young men from all over the place running after her. Michael and Conan, the stable boys, have both made a bid for her, till her brother saw ’em off. Now it’s Jack’s turn, eh? Make a good match, he and Rosie,’ Nathan grinned, ‘if he can get past Clem, that is. Reckon he must think only the Sheriff himself is good enough for Rosie.’

Oliver shook his head. ‘You’re way off the mark, Nat. Jack! Hurry up, damn you! Whoever she is, he’s keeping her close in his thoughts but I’ve a notion he’s trying to catch more than a glimpse of Carn Bawden’s daughter.’

‘What? That little spitfire? Heaven only help the lad. Jack will never handle that one.’ Nathan shook his head as he gathered his gun, crib and dogs together.

Oliver stared at the stable door from where Jack and his mount would appear and made a wry promise. ‘If he doesn’t bring Conomor out in less than ten seconds heaven help him now. I want to see the Reverend Ivey before he thinks of retiring!’

Thus, as one tall, black-haired, unexpected caller left the parsonage, he was replaced a short time afterwards by another to interrupt the writing of the Reverend Ivey’s sermon.

Quill in hand, inspiration on his face, the parson’s hand stayed over the paper as Mrs Tregonning announced, ‘Sir Oliver for you, Reverend.’

‘It looks as if I have broken the flow of something important, Joseph,’ Oliver said, as the Reverend stood up to shake hands.

‘Nothing important, Oliver, I assure you. Bartholomew Drannock has not long left here. During our conversation he gave me an idea for my next Sunday’s sermon. I shall not forget what he said, he is a most intelligent young man.’

‘How odd, he is the very person I have come to see you about.’

‘Oh, has it anything to do with his mother, Jenifer?’ the Reverend asked, as they seated themselves comfortably over a glass of mead. ‘Bartholomew is very concerned about her, her condition is steadily worsening. I told the boy just before he left that the only person who may be able to lift her out of her despair is Kerensa.’

‘Kerensa will do what she can to help the poor woman, but the reason why I’m here,’ said Oliver, attempting to read an upsidedown sentence of the sermon to try and make out what the Drannock boy might have said, ‘has nothing to do with Jenifer or Drannock’s tragic death, but with the boy himself.’