It felt the way it did in his dreams. She was warm, and soft, and clinging to him. He held her tenderly, as though she might break. He was afraid that if he held her too tightly, she would melt into the air as she did in his dreams.

‘Ned?’ Brown eyes looked at him, and they were no longer afraid. ‘Don’t worry, Ned. It’s an eclipse.’

‘Eclipse? Will the sun come back?’ His voice shook, but whether from fear or emotion, he could not have said.

‘It will come back quite soon.’

Ned rested his cheek against her head and wondered how long eclipses lasted. How soft her hair was. How slim her waist. However long it lasted, it would not be long enough. Marshalling his dazed senses, he reminded himself that he came of peasant stock while the blood which coursed through her veins was finer, purer stuff.

She was watching the sun, angling her head towards that dark slash in the leaves. Ned wasn’t interested in the eclipse, he was too busy observing the play of expression on her face. He wanted to watch her while he could still hold her. He might have a minute or two longer. He let his eyes drink their fill. He loved the delicate line of her nose, and the freckles which the spring sunshine had scattered across her cheekbones. He loved the curve of her cheeks, the shape of her mouth, the small, white, even teeth. Hoping she was too absorbed to notice, he pressed a swift kiss on her temple. He loved the scent of her. A heady mixture of rosemary and Gwenn.

‘Gwenn.’ He bit his lip, foolishly he’d spoken aloud. She stirred in his arms and instinctively, for he wanted to prolong the moment, Ned tightened his hold.

Fortunately, Gwenn was oblivious of him and conscious only of the wonder she was witnessing. ‘It’s getting brighter. Look, Ned, it’s as though God’s drawing back a curtain. Ned?’

He would have a second or two...

‘You’re not looking!’ she said, and understanding that his taste of heaven was over, Ned slackened his hold and obediently tipped his head back to follow her pointing finger.

The first shaft of sunlight slanted through the trees, and as the rays strengthened, the spots of light jumped back into place. A breeze rattled the leaves, and the sunspots shimmered and twirled about the clearing. A blackbird flung back its head, opened its orange bill, and a phrase of song floated out. The bird hesitated, but only for an instant, and the song was completed on a confident ripple of sound. A bluetit flew to a perch on an overhanging branch, and blinked at them with eyes like shiny glass beads.

‘It’s over,’ Ned said, regretfully.

Gwenn’s eyes were as bright as the bluetit’s. ‘It was incredible. I’ve never seen an eclipse before.’

‘Incredible.’ Ned swallowed. It was all he could manage. He wondered miserably if he’d ever have Gwenn in his arms again. She was looking down the path to Kermaria.

‘Ned, you don’t think it was an ill omen, do you?’

‘An ill omen?’

Pearly teeth worried an almond-shaped nail. ‘You don’t think God is angry with my father?’

‘Why should God be angry?’

‘Because...because of the wedding.’

‘I should think God would be pleased, wouldn’t you?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s too late to make amends. Perhaps He does not approve of Mama.’

Gwenn’s expression was unhappy, and Ned’s arms ached to hold her, for her comfort and for his. ‘I don’t believe that,’ he said stoutly. ‘Your mother’s a fine lady.’

‘I agree with you. But does God? Remember what happened in Vannes?’ Recalling his involvement in that, Ned felt sick. ‘Remember what the townsfolk said about her? Perhaps God will not forgive someone like my mother. Do you think God forgives great sins?’

‘He must.’ Ned moved closer, pinning his arms to his sides to prevent himself from taking her hands. ‘Gw...Mistress Gwenn,’ now the eclipse was over he must remember to address her formally, ‘we cannot be the only people who witnessed the eclipse. Why should such a phenomenon be directed solely at your parents? If God had a message for your parents, wouldn’t He find a more personal way of delivering it? And now, Mistress Gwenn, we should be getting back. Your parents will be wondering where you are.’ He waved her ahead of him.

She could only have proceeded ten paces when she halted. ‘Ned, I...I... There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.’

‘Mistress?’

Gwenn twisted her hands together, and her cheeks went the colour of a dark rose. ‘Ned, I...I wanted to tell you how much I like you, and how much I value your friendship, b...but...’ She stammered to a halt, and her brown eyes gazed helplessly up at him. Her flush deepened.

She was embarrassed, and Ned thought he knew why. He swallowed, and tried to ease her mind. ‘It’s alright, mistress. You don’t need to worry. I know I shouldn’t have held you. It won’t happen again. I know my place.’

‘No. No, Ned, it’s nothing to do with place. It’s just that I don’t feel that way about you. Do you understand?’

‘I do.’ The hollow feeling in the pit of Ned’s stomach told him he understood only too well. But that didn’t mean he would have to stop dreaming. Perhaps, one day...

She smiled her bright smile. ‘Thank you, Ned. I knew you’d not make difficulties.’ She straightened her veil and circlet of flowers and walked on.

‘Mistress Gwenn?’

‘Aye?’

‘You won’t forget your father’s orders, will you?’

‘Orders?’

‘Concerning your mode of addressing me.’

‘I won’t forget, Sergeant Fletcher.’

Ned intercepted her smile and sent her one from his heart. He could smell apple blossom. They had reached the orchard.

‘Gwenn! Gwenn!’ Raymond Herevi was striding towards them. ‘Did you see it?’

Gwenn hastened towards her brother, while Ned turned towards the iron gateway which led to the yard.

‘The eclipse?’ Gwenn said. ‘Yes, we saw it.’

Raymond took his sister’s arm in a purposeful grip and marched her into the chapel porch, and out of Ned’s sight.

‘Gwenn, come with me, will you?’ Raymond said. ‘I want your views on something.’

‘You want my views, Raymond?’ Gwenn asked, as they stood in the calm, cool of Kermaria chapel. ‘It must be serious, you never normally ask my opinion on anything. What is it?’

‘It’s Mama,’ Raymond said abruptly. ‘And dear Father, of course.’

‘You sound cross, Raymond. What’s the problem?’

‘The problem is our parents’ wedding.’

‘That’s a problem? I rejoice for them.’

‘You might well. I don’t,’ Raymond said baldly. ‘Why do they have to marry?’

‘Mama’s having a baby, you know that.’

‘Aye. I do know. But she’s had babies before and they never saw fit to marry.’

Gwenn bent her head. ‘They think to legitimise the child, Raymond, so it will not have to bear the burden we do.’

‘Quite.’ Raymond’s green eyes glittered with a fierce anger. ‘The child will be legitimate, but we, dear sister, will remain bastards.’

‘Don’t be bitter, Raymond. They can’t undo the past. But they can help this babe.’

‘Holy Christ!’ Raymond bit out. ‘You haven’t seen it, have you? You haven’t thought about the implications.’

‘Implications?’

‘For years our dear father wouldn’t acknowledge us openly, and then we come here and he does acknowledge us. At last, poor Raymond thinks he has a chance of an inheritance. Then this sham of a wedding ruins everything. If the child Mama is carrying is a boy, Gwenn, I’ll lose all I’ve gained since coming here. I’ll be of no account, and I’ll have to bow down to some snivelling little brat who’s no better than me, but who happens to be born in wedlock.’

‘Oh, Raymond. I’m sorry.’ She had not considered the wedding from his point of view. Being a girl, with no inheritance to worry about, she had not thought what would happen to her brother if the baby was male. ‘Do you remember how lovely Katarin was when she was a babe?’ she said.