She turned with a proud little toss of her head and then stretched out on the sleeping platform, pulling the soft deerskin to one side so that it framed the bronze, smooth length of her, her dark hair spread, her lips half-parted, her breath coming a little faster and her eyes hazy with desire. John moved towards her and kneeled on the sleeping platform, moving over her with a sense of unreality, as if, after all his years of dreaming, this could only be another dream. He bent his head and kissed her and at the warmth and taste of her lips he knew himself to be awake and alive, and more powerfully alive than he had ever been in his life before. He gathered her warm buttocks into his hands and entered her with a quiet sigh of pleasure. Suckahanna’s dark eyes flickered shut.

Summer 1643, England

Hester woke on the morning of 31 May to the sound of gravel rattling against her bedroom window. For a moment she had the absurd thought that it was John, locked out of his own house, summoning her to let him in, to a reconciliation, a return, and to the end of her loneliness and waiting.

She jumped out of bed, ran to the window and looked down. It was a man, wrapped to the eyes in a cape, but she would have recognised the hat, heavy with plumes, anywhere.

‘God rot him,’ Hester swore under her breath, threw a jacket over her nightdress and ran barefoot down the stairs to let him in at the back door. In the stable yard a dog barked briefly. Hester let the man slip inside and then closed the door behind him.

‘What is it?’ she asked tersely.

‘It’s gone awry,’ he said. He dropped the cape from his face and she saw he was drawn and anxious. ‘I need a horse to get away from here to warn the king.’

‘I don’t have one,’ Hester said instantly.

‘Liar,’ he shot back.

‘I don’t have one to spare.’

‘This is the king’s business. His Majesty shall hear how I am served.’

Hester bit her lip. ‘Will you send the horse back to me?’ she asked. ‘She’s my husband’s horse and the saddle horse for my children, and she works on the land as well. I need her.’

‘The king’s need is greater.’

‘Keep your voice down,’ Hester hissed. ‘D’you want to wake the whole house?’

‘Then give me the horse!’

She led the way down the hall to the kitchen at the back. He hesitated when he saw the fire banked in for the night. ‘I need food,’ he said.

‘You’re going to Oxford, not to America!’ Hester said impatiently. ‘Eat there!’

‘Give me some bread and some cheese, and I’ll drink a glass of ale while you are saddling the horse.’