And now their bodies came together in a flood of ecstasy. It was as if they were the only two people in the world. Swept away on a tide of emotion, there was no Matthew, no Kate – even no farm. It was as if for the whole of her life, Esther had been waiting for this moment, for this man. Her need of him was a physical pain. Her body ached for his. Nothing and no one else mattered . . .

‘I never knew it could be like that,’ she said, lying back on the sand.

Jonathan kissed her forehead, her eyelids and then her mouth, his lips gentle and caressing. ‘Oh, my dear love, neither did I.’

She opened her eyes to find his blue eyes, full of concern, searching hers. She could feel his breath upon her face as he whispered, ‘You’re not – sorry?’

Her own eyes widened, ‘Sorry? How could I be?’ She reached up to trace the line of his jaw with her fingertips. ‘I love you,’ she said simply and no other explanation was needed.

His arms tightened around her and his lips kissed her neck, moving down, down to her breast and she felt the flutter of desire begin again. They made love again, slowly now, exulting in each other, murmuring endearments until again the waves of passion bore them to the heights of exquisite happiness.

Afterwards they still lay together in the sand. The mist enveloped them, but they were oblivious to the searching damp, reluctant even yet to leave. Holding her, Jonathan said, ‘Esther, what about your – husband?’

Esther, her cheek against his chest, said, ‘Matthew doesn’t love me. He never did.’

‘What?’ There was astonishment, and disbelief, in the one word.

‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘it’s time I told you the truth about my marriage.’ She shivered suddenly, as if for the first time becoming aware of the cold and, noticing, he wrapped his jacket around her and held her close, warming her with his body.

‘I suppose,’ she mused as much to herself as to him, ‘we should not have married. I—’ She stopped as realization came creeping unbidden into her conscious mind. ‘I didn’t know what love was.’ She heard the surprise in her own voice and paused, as understanding at last flooded through her. ‘But now I do,’ she added. There was a sadness too mingled with her present happiness. A sadness for Matthew – and even for Beth. She sighed deeply and began to tell Jonathan from the beginning.

‘I was born a bastard,’ she began bluntly, and felt his arms tighten about her. ‘My mother died at my birth, refusing to name my father.

‘My mother’s sister – my Aunt Hannah – brought me up. She didn’t love me, though I have to admit she taught me all I know and her harshness has made me a survivor. But as soon as I was old enough, I left.’