In the long death of the afternoon, her father napped by the fire, drained brandy glass by his side, and Peter was God-knows-where, probably hurling wood onto the bonfire for later that evening, so no one noticed her slipping out. She’d primed them anyway by casually mentioning that she was taking Gyps for a ride. She led her horse out of the paddock as a deterrent against getting on Jack’s machine, and was therefore irritatingly early. He was not there and she had a moment of doubt. He’d said two o’clock, Sunday, hadn’t he? She was sure he had. Now she thought of it, the actual arrangement of this… rendezvous had been made in such haste she wasn’t entirely sure what he’d said. In her post-interview funk, she’d contrived to speak to him one time he was down at the paddock with Peter.

‘I’ve decided I’d like to have a go on your motorcycle after all,’ she’d said under her breath. ‘But not a word to anyone or they won’t let me.’

He’d nodded, grinning, and said a time and day. But her heart had been beating so hard in her ears she wasn’t certain of any of what he’d said now.

It was so quiet out on the Holkham Road. The only sounds, the caw of distant gulls and Gypsy’s quiet snorts and tapping of his hooves. No sign of human life. And then the hush of the grey Sunday afternoon was rent by the screeching engine of Jack’s motorbike. It came quickly and she only just had time to compose her features into a look of unconcern. She was very aware of the deep, pinky-red smear on her mouth.

He stopped in front of her and she was struck anew by the compelling, animal beauty of his face. He was smiling with wry amusement and his eyes glittered, his hair as bright and coppery as ever, even in the dullness of the day. On the left side of his face the trace of the scar.

‘I knew you’d come,’ he said, turning off the engine.

It was almost enough for her to spin on her heels and escape back up the lane. ‘I wasn’t going to…’ she spluttered.

‘I’m glad you came. You brought your horse? You’re not going to be able to outride me on it.’ He was understandably surprised. After all, she’d said she wanted to go on the bike. But his shock seemed out of place. It didn’t square with his supposed familiarity and ease with horses.

‘Him. I’m quite fast, actually,’ she said.