‘Not there. I’d like to go to the stables to see Conqueror.’

Judy hesitated, trying in vain to think of a plausible excuse. She was worried that seeing his horse again might rekindle memories of the accident, but Jack was adamant, and against her better judgement she agreed. Even so, it was good to see the fresh breeze whipping some colour back into his pale cheeks, and the pleasure he exhibited on seeing his horse again was heart-warming. Conqueror rubbed his head against Jack’s shoulder, whinnying softly.

‘He’s missed you, Jack,’ Pip said, grinning. ‘He’s trying to say he’s sorry you got hurt.’

‘It wasn’t his fault.’ Jack raised his hand to stroke Conqueror’s soft muzzle. ‘I misjudged the jump. It was lucky he didn’t break a leg.’

‘Don’t think about it,’ Judy said hastily. ‘He’s obviously pleased to see you.’

‘Horses don’t bear grudges, not like people.’ Jack’s smile faded. ‘If he had broken a leg he’d have been shot. It’s a pity they couldn’t do that for me.’

‘Jack!’ Judy gasped. ‘Don’t say things like that.’ She glanced at her brother and saw that he too was upset. ‘Jack doesn’t mean it, Pip. He was joking.’

Pip nodded, but he did not look convinced. ‘Shall I take Conqueror back to his stall?’

Jack shrugged and turned away. ‘You might as well. I’ll never ride again. Take me back to the house, Judy. I’m tired.’

‘Is it my fault?’ Pip whispered.

Judy shook her head. ‘No, of course not. Maybe we’ll come again tomorrow.’

‘Get me out of here, please, Judy.’ Jack’s voice broke on a suppressed sob and she pushed the wheelchair out of the stable. They emerged into bright sunshine and she did not stop until they were clear of the stable yard.

‘Do you really want to go back to the house? Would you like to see the lake?’

‘I want to go back to my room.’

‘Of course, but wouldn’t you like to have tea in the drawing room first? Your mother would love that.’

‘I can’t think of anything worse. I don’t want people fussing over me, Judy. Just do as I say, take me back to the house and James can carry me upstairs like the cripple I am.’

Judy sighed, but she knew Jack well enough to realise that arguing was futile. They returned to the house in silence, and when Jack had been taken to his room Judy stowed the wheelchair out of sight. It seemed now that her initial reservation about visiting the stables had been well judged. The memory of the accident had stirred up all the anger and emotion that Jack had been feeling, and had made matters worse. She stood stiffly, staring out of one of the tall windows with unseeing eyes. The glory of the early summer’s day and the beauty of the grounds did not register in her mind. All she could think of was Jack, immured, it seemed for ever, in his room upstairs.