The furthest contract on Bob Morris’s round was Meaker’s Farm on the outskirts of Lancaster. Jack Meaker was a well-respected, hard-working man who had the misfortune to have married a woman with an insatiable appetite for the opposite sex. It was known far and wide by many but Jack himself lived in ignorance and, because of that, was fairly content.

Over a number of months, Bob Morris had found favour with the farmer’s wife and never lost an opportunity to show his gratitude. They had an arrangement whereby he would collect his money at the back door and minutes later he would hide his wagon round by the barn and there she would come and meet him.

A dark-haired beauty, she loved to be gently persuaded, but on this particular evening Bob was in no mood for niceties. He was at her almost the minute she walked in the door. ‘I’ve been ready for you all day,’ he groaned, pawing at her like a dog at a bone.

‘Had a row with your pretty market girl, have you?’ she teased.

He closed her mouth with a rough kiss, biting her lips until they bled.

Save for an owl and the crunch of hay as they rolled in it, it was quiet there.

Quiet. And wicked.

Chapter Twelve

Fanny was homesick.

There was something about velvet skies and moonlit nights that broke her heart and made her sad. ‘Shall we make us way home, lad?’

Billy sat on the wagon step beside her, his legs stretched out and his chin resting on his hands. He was so deep in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear.

Softly smiling, Fanny studied her son. This past few weeks he had seemed suddenly to blossom before her eyes. He looked so handsome and grown up that it made her proud. Billy was a mingling of herself and his father. He laughed like her but he had his father’s irritating way of slouching against a tree or a door with his hands in his pockets. And yet he was his own man, with those wonderful eyes that seemed always to be gazing far away, and a lazy, easy smile that filled her with wonder.

Billy was her pride and joy, and even though they had not seen Bridget or Ruthie for some long time, Fanny still hoped that one fine day Ruthie and Billy would find their future with each other.

Seeing how preoccupied he was, she let him alone for a time, thinking that he, too, must be missing their friends back in Blackburn. And so they sat, hunched together on the wagon steps, with the moon shining down and the lake shimmering before them. The old horse stood close by, eyes closed and head bowed, enjoying his rest.

It was a marvellous, magical evening, and for a time it seemed as though they might be the only two people in the whole world. But there was another, so close he could have reached out and touched them. Instead, he remained hidden from sight, watching and listening.