Silas reached forward to grab Harriet’s hand when they entered the house, which was quiet as the grave. She shook him off, imagining what her uncle would have to say about that, and walked down the corridor and into the kitchen where he joined her at the window. They gazed, unseen, into the back garden. All three boys were running up and down between the tilted bamboo cages that supported the thick tangle of peas on one side and asparagus on the other. Walter was standing by the gate that overlooked the common, deep in conversation with Mr Boothby.

‘Oh no. Silas, I think we should…’

Her eyes widened in surprise when he took her face between the warm palms of his hands and kissed her on the mouth. His lips were soft, but insistent, and the taste of his kiss sour and sweet at the same time. There was space between their bodies, a few inches, and Harriet yearned to press herself against him, overwhelmed by an instinctive need to feel more than the squeeze of his hand, the touch of his lips. Then the contact broke and she opened her eyes – she hadn’t realised until that moment that they had been closed – and Silas’s gaze filled her vision.

He was smiling. ‘I should say sorry, but I’ve been wantin’ to kiss thee for—’

She didn’t let him finish. She felt the curve of his smile as she put her lips back to his.

The slam of the door was a gunshot that made her leap back in shock. Walter was in the kitchen, his fists clenched and his face a mask of fury.

‘Uncle.’ Harriet moved away, putting distance between her and Silas. ‘Uncle.’ She had no idea how to continue. Walter glared at Silas, then at her. He didn’t speak.

Silas did. ‘Sir, I am…’, but Walter leapt forward to grab Harriet by the arm and she went limp with shock. She heard Silas call her name as her uncle dragged her through the house and into the parlour. He slammed the door behind them before releasing his grip. Harriet retreated before him.

‘I won’t demean myself by trying to reason with you in front of that boy. You risk all our futures!’ He made a visible effort to calm himself. ‘Harriet, my beloved niece. You cannot intend to throw your lot in with him, one of the great unwashed? You know I won’t allow it. You debase yourself with this behaviour.’

The door was flung open and Silas was there. She was suddenly afraid for him.

Without warning, Walter lashed out, catching Silas with a backhanded slap across the face. There was an instant where nobody moved and the only sound was Walter’s rattling and ragged breath. Silas’s face was white and there was blood on his chin. Her uncle had split his lip. Another figure appeared in the doorway and Harriet was dismayed to see who it was.

Mr Boothby broke the spell.