John could not find a simple answer. ‘She saved my life,’ he said. ‘I was starving in the forest and she took me to the Powhatan and they accepted me for her sake.’

Hester nodded. ‘Did you leave her of your own free will? Did you choose to leave her and come home to me?’

‘Yes,’ John said. ‘Yes.’ The baldness of the lie dropped like a stone into the pool of candlelight by the bed.

John got into bed beside Hester and took her hand. It was white-skinned after Suckahanna’s bronze, calloused by the work she had done for him in his house and in his garden. The backs of her hands were scratched, she had been tying back the climbing roses. John took her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers one by one.

With a sense of relief he felt desire slowly rising up. At least he would be able to do the physical act, even if his heart were not wholly present. He turned the palm of her hand over and planted a kiss in the middle.

Hester put her hand on his shoulder and stroked the short hair at the nape of his neck.

‘Do you love her still?’

He stole a quick glance at Hester’s face. She was intent, serious. She did not look enraged as she had every right to be. He risked telling her the truth. ‘Not as I love you; but it is true. I do love her.’

‘You have never loved me,’ she said steadily. ‘You married me as an act of convenience and sometimes I think you have felt gratitude or affection towards me. But it was not a marriage for love and I never pretended that it was.’

Her honesty alarmed him. ‘Hester …’

‘I don’t want us to pretend,’ she said. ‘I would rather know the truth than live in a world of pretence.’

‘Do you want me to leave you?’

‘No!’ she said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean that at all.’

‘But you said …’

She drew a breath. ‘I said that you married me for your convenience, to care for your children and to guard the rarities and the garden. But I married you because I needed a place to live, and a name, and also –’ She smiled at him, a friendly, shy smile. ‘I was in love with you, John. From the moment that you came home and I walked down the stairs and saw you.’

He put his hand under her chin and turned her face to him. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment but she met his eyes steadily with her direct, dark gaze.

‘And you forgive me?’

She gave a little shrug. ‘Since you came home to me – of course.’

‘And you love me still?’

‘Of course. Why should I change?’

‘Because I have wronged you.’

‘Are you home to stay?’ she asked with her usual practical directness.

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Then I forgive you.’