‘Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you.’ He was still smiling, not in the least sorry. She realised she must have been frowning and tried to relax her face. Say something, she told herself.

Her laugh came out as a croak. ‘No, not at all, it’s very flattering. I’m just not used to such high praise.’ She sucked on the cigarette again. It rasped against her throat and made her cough. ‘I’m actually engaged anyway.’ Why had she said that? It wasn’t even true. There had been some talk between her father and another gentleman farmer but she was definitely not engaged. Later she realised that she had thought of Arthur when she said that and it had been an unwelcome thought.

‘Yeah? Pete didn’t mention it. Shouldn’t you be used to compliments then?’ She must have made a face because he extended his hand, saying, ‘Look, I’m just teasing. I’m Jack by the way, pleased to meet you.’ She hesitated but took it; it was warm and unnervingly strong. He didn’t let go and she found herself holding the stranger’s hand for longer than she wanted. She caught his eye and noticed they were an unusual colour – hazel flecked with gold, framed with flickering pale eyelashes, disconcertingly transfixing, almost vulpine. How long they stood like that she didn’t know. It was enough for the impression of his hand to seep into her skin and remain after he took it away.

‘How do you do. Have you just arrived, Mr—?’ she said.

There was a slight hesitation. ‘Doherty,’ he said. ‘Sure. Just arrived.’

She thought of the plane she’d seen on the day of the tea and pictured this American sitting in it, seeing her in the barley field. It made her shiver.

‘How do you know my brother?’

‘He’s taken me under his wing. Said he’d show me the sights.’

She raised her eyebrows. Whatever Peter was up to, it was certainly not anything to do with acting as a tour guide for this overconfident man.

‘Jack! Where the devil are you?’ Peter was calling from beyond the gate, out of sight down the far end of the field. His voice was big and open and full of a joy rarely heard.

Verity stiffened and took a step back away from him but he took hold of her hand and held onto it. He pulled her towards him, brought his face to her ear and said, ‘Can I see you again?’

‘Excuse me?’

His mouth touched her neck just below her ear. ‘Please,’ he breathed out.

‘No!’

In a second he had released her and was standing back at the gate, lighting up another cigarette. She thrust her hands in the pockets of her dress for something to do with them.