‘I’ll have no arguments . . .’ He whipped round with surprising agility to frown at his daughter. ‘From either of you! And dun’t you start, neither.’ He wagged his finger at Jonathan sitting in his chair before the range, calmly reading the newspaper.

Jonathan glanced up. ‘I wasn’t going to.’ He smiled. ‘Do you good to get out a bit instead of sitting here all day being waited on hand and foot.’ But the words were said in fun and the old man exchanged a grin with his son-in-law.

‘Come on then, Kate, let’s be off.’

Outside the pony and trap waited in the yard and when they were both settled in the back, Will slapped the reins and the pony moved forward. Once in the lane with the distance lengthening between them and the farm, above the rattle of the wheels, he said, ‘I aren’t going to ask a lot of questions, lass, and I aren’t going to preach at ya. But there’s one thing I’ve got to know. Was it true what ya told ya mam? Ya bairn’s not Danny’s, is it?’

Kate tucked her hand through her grandfather’s arm and held it tightly. ‘No, Grandad, I promise you that. It’s not Danny’s.’ There was a note of wistfulness in her voice, almost as if she wished the baby were his, but her grandfather had no such feelings. ‘Thank the Lord for that!’ he muttered.

Kate sighed. Once, she had longed to be the mother of Danny’s children, and even now, despite her newfound love for Philip, still not a day went by without her thinking of Danny, longing to know if he was alive and safe.

The wind whipped coolly against her face and her gaze travelled unseeingly around the vast flatness of the landscape as the trap rattled along the lanes. She was remembering Beth Eland’s words – so long ago now – and yet she could still hear them on the wind. ‘You and Danny will probably always love each other. No one can stop you doing that. But somewhere there will be another love for each of you, and it will be a different kind of love to the one you’ll always carry for one another.’