‘Alexander.’ It was just one word but it stopped him in his tracks, the smile sliding from his face. ‘I need to tell you something, to explain what – what happened to me before I came to Consett.’

‘I know what happened to you. Your husband died and—’

‘That is only part of it. There is more, much more. And – and it is not pleasant. But I have to tell you it all before we get any closer and if you want to walk away afterwards I will understand.’

‘Walk away? Nothing that you could tell me would make me want to walk away, Rose. You must know that?’

‘No, don’t say that now. Make no promises.’

‘Rose, what is it?’ His face was grim now. ‘Tell me.’

‘You know I was born and brought up in the workhouse and that I never knew my mother. That I met Davey when I was sixteen. He was a good man and I was happy as his wife. When Betsy came along it seemed like everything was set for the future. More bairns in time, brothers and sisters for Betsy, but then—’

‘He was killed,’ Alexander said softly.

‘Yes, he was killed. Can we begin walking again while we talk?’ She couldn’t tell him what she had to say with him looking at her with such love in his face.

‘Of course.’ He took her arm again and they made their way along the snow-covered path that led them away from the house.

After a moment or two, she said, ‘When Davey was killed it was his best friend, Nathaniel Alridge, who worked with him who came to the house to tell me about the accident. That was the beginning of it.’

As she continued to talk, Alexander listened without interrupting. His temper was aroused when he learned of how she had fled her home, and everything she had known because of this friend of her husband’s hounding her, and he had to grit his teeth not to speak out; but when she came to the part the miller had played in her past he missed a step and almost stumbled before pulling her more closely in to him as they walked. He still made no comment, however, even though he was burning with fury and silent frustration that he couldn’t get his hands on the man and throttle him. He felt physically sick at the thought of what she had gone through but was full of awe at how she had carried on in the face of such abuse, creating a home for Betsy and a new life for them both. But that man, that foul man taking her— He checked his thoughts. He couldn’t think of it now, time enough when he was alone and could punch some inanimate object until he felt relief. For now he had to comfort her, to be everything she needed him to be.