Impatient, she climbed down from the cart – and immediately sank up to her knees in snow. ‘Damn it, Harry, where are you?’ She called again but there was still no answer.

Her teeth were chattering and her limbs were beginning to set. With great difficulty, she managed to make her way to the front of the cart to the horse. ‘Oh, you poor thing,’ she groaned; the creature was wet and bedraggled, head hanging low, his big brown eyes looking at her appealingly. His beautiful lashes were speckled with snow and the water trickling down his face made him look as though he was crying. ‘I know,’ she said, putting an arm round his thick neck, ‘it’s a bad situation. All we can do is put our trust in Harry.’

Harry had strapped a horse blanket over the animal, and by now it was heavy with snow. Bridget shook it off as best she could, then slid it higher over his withers. ‘It won’t keep you dry,’ she told him, ‘but it might keep the worst of the wind off you.’ The wind was worsening, swirling the snow and sending it into a frenzy. ‘Harry won’t let us come to any harm,’ she assured the frightened creature, ‘and I won’t leave you, I promise.’

He seemed to understand. Snorting, he pushed his nose into her shoulder.

‘Be patient,’ she coaxed. ‘He’ll be back soon.’ Wrapping both arms round the animal’s wide shoulders, she snuggled up. ‘We’ll keep each other warm,’ she promised, and, for what seemed an age, that was what they did.

Then at last Bridget saw the hazy glow of a lantern as Harry made his way back. ‘Thank God,’ she murmured.

She pushed her way through the snow to meet him. ‘Oh, Harry! You’ve been gone so long.’ The force of the wind sent her into his arms. She made no move to free herself, nor did he want her to. She felt herself blushing. The insane idea that Tom might see them made her break away.

‘I thought I told you to stay put,’ Harry said gruffly, though he was greatly relieved to see her. He had been frantic in case she wandered off. ‘We’d best get started,’ he urged. ‘We’ve a way to go yet.’

‘You found the farmhouse then?’

Harry shook his head. ‘No, I didn’t. It’s like all hell cut loose out there.’

With his arm tight about her waist, he helped Bridget back to the cart; he might have carried her over the snow-laden ground, but his legs were weakened by the long, heavy trudge, and his back felt as though it was cracked right down the middle. More importantly, he had to preserve what strength he had left. Who knew what lay ahead?

‘Where are we going?’ It was increasingly difficult for Bridget to make herself heard against the noise of the wind.

‘There’s a barn about a mile away. It’s not the best place in the world, but it’s got four walls and a roof. If we make it there, we should be all right till morning.’