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The illusion that she had a choice, however, was soon swept aside. ‘Come on.’ The jailer seized hold of her sleeve and hauled her into the grimy passageway. ‘I’ve been paid to bring you out, so you’re coming out. I’m not giving the money back just because you’ve decided to be shy.’

He slammed the door closed again, still gripping her sleeve. She tried to pull back but he was too strong, instead finding herself half-dragged and half-carried away from the cell towards a room at the end of the passage.

‘In there.’

With an unceremonious shove, he pushed her inside and withdrew without another word. Caught off-balance, she staggered, although fortunately someone came forward to catch her before she could fall.

A firm but gentle hand found her elbow and raised her up. In the same motion they drew her closer, steadying her as she regained her footing, and when she peered up to see to whom she owed her thanks she realised she was now scant inches from their face.

Her breath fled.

‘What are you doing here?’

Jacob looked down at her, those familiar blue eyes fixed on hers. For half a beat he didn’t move, the two of them standing as close together as a couple about to dance, but then he released her, stepping back with his hands behind him.

‘I told you I’d find a way to fix this mess. That’s what I’ve come to do.’

Meg stared at him, horribly aware her cheeks had flushed hot. In the sunlight coming through the room’s filmy window, he was far more visible than he’d been the night before, and being able to appreciate every detail was a dangerous thing indeed.

She was teetering on the brink either of death or transportation. Her family was in turmoil, her brother a criminal and her father certain to be in the worst kind of distress—so why, when she had so many other things to concern her, was she still able not just to notice but appreciate the way the light enhanced the angle of Jacob’s tense jaw?

If youthful Jacob had been good-looking, his adult counterpart was even more so. His hair wasn’t long any more, instead cut into a man’s shorter crop that hid the way it curled, but that couldn’t conceal how it gleamed dark beneath his hat, its almost pitch-black contrasting with his blue eyes to make them stand out like sapphires among coal. He was taller and his shoulders had gained width that looked well under his coat, yet despite all the changes in him he was still the boy who had made her heart leap the first time they’d met, and it was deeply unfortunate that he was still able to have the same effect on her now.

That same heart beat hard against the bodice of her now-dirty gown. Five years ago, she would have thrown herself into his arms and some echo of that impulse still remained, especially since he stood barely a few paces away. The physical distance might have been small, but the emotional gap was more like a chasm, and she made sure to remind herself of it before she let herself be swept away. Whatever bond they used to share had been severed the night he’d fled the woods before she’d been able to reach him, and any vestiges of it on her part needed to be snuffed out at once.

‘I didn’t think you meant it. I never expected you’d actually come.’

She saw something cross his face. ‘I don’t know why you’d doubt me. I’m not known for breaking my word.’

Her eyebrows rose. Was that a barb she detected, a pointed comment that somehow implied she had form for breaking hers? It would be uncharacteristically sharp of him if that were so, but then she’d already noticed his voice contained little of the warmth she remembered. He always used to speak to her much more gently, and the change was jarring, although she supposed she shouldn’t have been too surprised.

Jacob frowned down at the worn carpet. ‘I spoke to Anthony. I’m afraid it was not a success.’

‘I would have predicted as much. Surely that didn’t come as a shock, sir?’

‘Not a shock, but a disappointment. And please don’t call me “sir”.’

Meg’s mouth twisted. There it was again: that disagreeably curt tone that hurt more than she wanted to admit. To listen to him gave the impression that only she had played any part in whatever unhappiness had engulfed them, but of course that wasn’t true. If he had waited a little longer instead of leaving their meeting place almost immediately, she would have worked up the courage to explain the doubts that had held her back, but he hadn’t given her that opportunity. They might still have had to go their separate ways but, if she’d had time to talk to him, it needn’t have been on bad terms, and the fact he’d given up so quickly told her all she needed to know.

I don’t deserve all the blame for our parting. I may have had concerns, but at least I was preparing to share them instead of just running away. If he’d changed his mind, he should have told me instead of taking the coward’s way out.

It was an idea she’d tortured herself with more times than she could count. What had she done that had made him decide he didn’t want to marry her after all? Was it something she’d said, something she lacked—perhaps her lowly upbringing at last having made him feel a stab of embarrassment? She’d repeated the same questions to herself over and over with every passing year but now wasn’t the right moment to do so again.

Other things currently demanded her attention, and besides, the answers weren’t hers to provide. The only person who could ever supply the real reasons for his actions was Jacob himself, and she would never humiliate herself by asking him to explain. It was bad enough he’d left her without a word of goodbye; she wouldn’t humble herself by begging for closure now he’d returned, especially now he seemed so different from the sweet boy she’d lost.

‘I think we both know your brother wouldn’t let me go free,’ she said unwillingly. ‘His hatred for poachers is something you must have been aware of.’

‘As must you.’ He looked up again abruptly. ‘So why did you do it, Meg? Are things in Hayworth truly so bad that you had to take such a risk, even knowing what could come of it?’

With every syllable he sounded less and less like a man who’d had any kind of tender feelings towards her. It certainly didn’t make her inclined to entrust him with the knowledge she was there in Peter’s stead, even if hearing him say her name again brought back memories of him whispering it on warm summer nights…

‘Must you really ask?’ With clumsy haste she slammed the shutters down on the tempting but forbidden recollection, never more inappropriately timed. ‘You know your brother enclosed the estate. The villagers have nowhere to graze their animals now, or to hunt or forage for game. The common land many of us cultivated is out of bounds, and just as many of the tenant farmers have been thrown off the plots their families tended for generations under the flimsiest of pretexts. It was a wet summer last year and a long, harsh winter followed—most people haven’t been able to grow enough food to feed themselves, let alone to sell.’

She tried to keep her composure but it was slipping fast. Jacob watched her closely, listening to every word, and feeling his cool eyes on her made staying calm all the more difficult. ‘In truth, since your father died and your brother inherited the estate, we’ve all felt cursed. He’s squeezing the life out of the village…and now he wants to do the same to me.’

‘I’ll see to it that won’t happen.’

Meg spread her hands, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they shook. ‘Why? You’ve no reason to care. There’s no call for you to be involved at all.’