I shrugged. I could not help their dreams. I had my own dream of Wide, and it had not been a place where I had stared suspiciously at gentlemen and wondered if they were cheating me. My dream of Wide had been a place where the land was smiling and where I recognized my home. We had all been foolish dreamers. We all deserved disappointment.

I clicked to Sea and he threw his head up and broke into his smooth easy canter. We soon came to the London road and I checked him, wondering whether to turn north towards London or south towards the sea. While I considered a man came into sight, leading a horse.

I looked at the horse first. It was a bay gelding, prime bred. Arab stock in it somewhere, I thought. A beautiful arched-necked wide-eyed proud animal. It was dead lame, the nearside foreleg was so tender the animal could hardly place it down; and I looked with surprise at the man who was leading it. A man who could choose and buy a near-perfect animal and then work it so ill that it could be injured so badly.

I caught my breath as soon as I looked at him. I had seen drawings of angels, drawings that people had done long ago in great churches in faraway countries, and he was as beautiful as any drawing I had ever seen. He was bareheaded and his hair was as curly as a statue of Cupid. He was watching the road beneath his well-shined riding boots and his perfect mouth was downturned in an endearing pout. The cast of his face, the bones, the nose, were drawn as fine as if he were a clean line on paper. But just now all the lines were downturned, the eyes with the curving line of the light brown brows, the mouth, the gaze which was down to the ground. He had not even heard Sea, he did not see me until he was nearly upon me.

‘Morning, sir,’ I said confidently. I was sure he would not have heard of me, he did not look like a young man who would be familiar with the likes of Will Tyacke. I had the old cap pulled low over my revealing mass of red hair, I had my coat jacket turned up. I knew I would pass as a lad and for some reason, I wanted to see his face upturned towards me as I sat on my horse, high above him.

He jumped at the sound of my voice, and his feet weaved in the white chalk dust. I guessed then that he had been drunk some time ago and was not yet sober. He had hazy blue eyes and I saw him screw them up as he tried to focus on me.

‘Good morning,’ he said blearily. ‘Damme, I suppose it is morning?’ He giggled slightly and his feet took two more unbidden converging steps. ‘Listen here, fellow,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Where the devil am I? D’you know? Am I far from Havering Hall, eh?’

‘I’m a stranger to these parts myself,’ I said. ‘This is the lane which leads to the village of Acre on the estate of Wideacre. Havering Hall is somewhere near here, but I am not certain of its direction.’

He put a hand on his horse’s neck to steady himself.

‘This is Acre lane?’ he said delightedly. ‘By all that’s wonderful – I believe I’ve won!’

His beaming smile was so delighted that I found I was smiling too.

‘D’you know,’ he said owlishly. ‘I bet Tommy Harrap three hundred pounds that I could get home before he could get home. And he’s not here now!’

‘Is this his home?’ I asked, bewildered.

‘No!’ the young man said impatiently. ‘Petworth! Petworth. We were both in the Brighton Belle Tavern. He took the bet. Because he had further to go than I, I let him go first. But now I’ve won! Three hundred pounds!’

‘How d’you know he isn’t home?’ I asked. I knew this was drunken folly of the first order, but I could not help smiling into that laughing careless face.

He looked suddenly serious.

‘Parson!’ he said. ‘You’re quite right, lad. That was part of the wager. I have to get the parson to witness what time it was when I got home. Good thinking, lad! Here’s a shilling.’

He dived into the deep pocket of his jacket and fumbled around while I waited.

‘Gone,’ he said sepulchrally. ‘Gone. I know I didn’t spend it. You know I didn’t spend it. But it’s gone all the same.’

I nodded.

‘I’ll write you an IOU,’ he said, suddenly brightening. ‘I’ll pay it when I get next quarter’s allowance.’ He paused. ‘No I won’t,’ he corrected himself. ‘I’ve had that and spent it already. I’ll pay you out of the quarter after that.’ He paused and leaned against his horse’s high shoulder. ‘It gets very confusing,’ he said in bafflement. ‘I think I’m into the twentieth century already.’

I laughed aloud at that, an irresistible giggle which made him look up at me, very ready to take offence.

‘Sniggering, are you?’ he demanded.

I shook my head, straight-faced.

‘Because if you are, you can feel the flat of my sword,’ he threatened. He fumbled among the wide skirts of his coat and failed to find his sword.

‘In hock,’ he said to me and nodded confidentially. ‘Like everything else.’

‘Who are you?’ I asked, wondering if I should take him to Havering Hall or send him on his way.

He drew himself up to his slight height and made me a flourishing bow.

‘I’m Peregrine Havering,’ he said. ‘Heir to the Havering estate and great name. I’m Lord Peregrine Havering if you really want to know. Three sheets to the wind, and not a feather to fly with.’

‘Shall I escort you home, my lord?’ I asked politely, a half-smile on my face.

He looked up at me and something in the childlike blue eyes made me happy to be of service to him, drunkard and wastrel though he might well be.

‘I should like to buy your horse,’ he said with immense dignity. ‘Or at any rate, I shall swop you for it. You may have mine. I will have yours.’

I did not even glance at the bay.

‘No, my lord,’ I said politely. ‘I am accustomed to this horse and I would do badly with any other. But if you would deign to come up behind me, we can ride to Havering Hall and lead your horse.’

‘Right,’ he said with the sudden decisiveness of the very drunk. ‘Right you are, young lad.’

He stopped then and looked up at me. ‘Who are you anyway?’ he asked. ‘You’re not one of our people are you? One of our stable lads or something?’

‘No my lord,’ I said. ‘I’m from Wideacre. I am new there.’

He nodded, well satisfied with my half-truth; and I let it go at that. He was too drunk to understand anything but the most simple of explanations, and anyway, I wanted to take him home. I was sure that he was quite incapable of finding his way without me. I knew that he had no money, but if he carried on roaming around the highways in this state someone would rob him of his fine linen and lace. For some reason, which I did not pause to consider, I did not mind him riding Sea behind me with his hands on my waist. His touch did not make me shrink away. He mounted behind me gracefully and his hands on my waist were warm and steady. Sea did not mind the extra load but stepped out in an extended walk. The fine bay hunter limped alongside.

‘I am not sure of the direction, my lord,’ I said.

‘I’ll tell you,’ he said confidently. Then the next minute I felt the weight of his head as he slumped forwards and leaned against me. Fast asleep.

Havering Hall has two entrances, though I did not know it then. The main one is on the London road which Lord Peregrine had already trotted blithely past; but there is another way, a little bridleway which leads to the hall off the Acre lane. I should have missed it, and ended up taking Lord Peregrine to breakfast at Wideacre if I had not met Will Tyacke riding towards us, going to Midhurst to see if he could beg or borrow a spare harrow. He stared in surprise when he saw the double load on Sea, and then recognized me with Lord Peregrine at my back.

‘Sarah!’ he said. ‘What are you doing here? And with Lord Peregrine too!’

I shot him a level look. ‘He’s drunk,’ I said briefly. ‘He’d never get home on his own. What would you have had me do? Leave him where he dropped in the road?’

Will hesitated. ‘As you wish, Sarah,’ he said politely. It was obvious that he thought that would have been a reasonable, even a desirable thing to do. ‘Where are you taking him?’

‘To Havering Hall,’ I said. ‘But he went off before he could tell me the way. Can I find it alone, is it near here?’

Will nodded, stiff with disapproval. ‘It’s a track which runs off to your left, just before the ford,’ he said. ‘If you follow the track you will come out at the hall. His mother, the Dowager Lady Clara, is at home. But they keep town hours there, Sarah. They’ll all be still asleep. The only people awake will be servants.’

‘They’ll do,’ I said. ‘They can put him to bed and stable his horse. Have you seen how lame it is?’

‘I saw at once,’ Will said. ‘Looks as if it lost a shoe and he rode it like that for miles. It’s to be hoped the sole of the hoof isn’t damaged. Can that grey of yours carry the weight of two?’ Will asked. ‘I can take him up behind me if you wish me to take him home.’

I was about to answer when the words stuck in my throat as I remembered riding home from the sea with her up before me and her hair blowing in my face as we cantered on the soft grass at the verges of the road. I could remember the smell of her, and the taste of salt on her hair, and the warm afternoon breeze blowing in my face. When Sea had last ridden with two on his back.

Instinctively I tightened his grip around my waist, as if I were holding her safely on behind me. ‘The horse can manage two, he’s done it before,’ I said gruffly, and I touched his sides to make him start.

‘I’ll come to Wideacre Hall later, when I’ve run this errand,’ Will called after me as I rode away. ‘I’ll ride with you this afternoon.’