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We came to a halt in the stony drive: gravel, as I've mentioned, would be pitching it too high. The coach light was on above the front door, illuminating the Virginia creeper and little wooden porch with white window seats either side. A friendly row of wellingtons sat beneath. Caro had left the sitting-room light on too, which shone through a gap in the red curtains.

‘Pretty,’ said Ludo admiringly, as we got out.

I smiled the smile of one who knows. ‘Yes, but tumbling down round their ears. Come on, the yard's over here.’

He followed as I marched off round the side of the house.

‘So, presumably you grew up with horses?’ he said, looking about as I flicked on the yard light. Felix, Henry's pony, who was deemed too delicate to stay out under any circumstances, had his head over the door, ears pricked with interest.

‘No, it was only ever Dad's thing,’ I said, disappearing into the tack room and emerging with a head collar. ‘Tim and I never really got involved. I was much happier with a book.’

‘Ah,’ he smiled.

‘Mills and Boon,’ I said tartly, before he got too excited. Before he had me curled up with Don Quixote. ‘Or even trashy mags. Tit-bits, that kind of thing.’ I flashed him a triumphant look, wishing I had some gum to chew. ‘Right. Now you hold this…’ I handed him a bucket with pony nuts in it, ‘and when we're in the field, rattle it loudly to make a noise. When he comes across I'll try and nab him.’

‘Got it, sir.’

I ignored him. It occurred to me he'd become remarkably skittish since his earlier revelation, not quite the brooding, dour chap of yesteryear. Really come out of his shell. Perhaps he felt he had nothing to lose? Or was this him turning on the charm? If it was, I had to admit, it was rather attractive. And it was forcing me into a shrewish, exasperated role I knew wasn't attractive at all. But then, that was the point, wasn't it, Evie? I shut the feed-room door.

‘Had much success with this method in the past?’ he asked as I locked it behind me.

‘Not a lot, but it's dark, so we might surprise him.’

‘Right. But essentially,’ he glanced in the bucket, ‘we're counting on his physical appetite, triumphing over his sexual one?’

‘Yes, I suppose,’ I said impatiently. ‘Whatever.’ Whatever. When had I ever said that? But quite good. I should have dropped the T for more chavvy effect.

‘Come on,’ I set off. ‘Less theorizing, more action.’

‘Mind if I take a couple more of these?’ He turned to grab a pair of head collars hanging over a stable door.

‘Wha'ever.’

I strode off, pleased with myself, towards the paddock. I let us in through the iron barred gate, then sent it sailing back to click shut with a clank, behind us.

‘Now. They're usually down by the river in a huddle. Jiggle your nuts.’

Ludo's face in the moonlight lit up. ‘How I wish you were ordering me to do that under different circumstances,’ he breathed.

I swallowed. Felt the blood in my cheeks. ‘Just… shake them,’ I muttered. ‘Hector!’ I called, striding out down the hill. ‘Hec-torrr!’ Quite hard to call out and not feel ridiculous. My voice warbled operatically.

‘Aren't you just alerting him to our presence?’ whispered Ludo, beside me. ‘I thought an element of surprise was part of our plan?’

Bloody man. I didn't answer him, but he had a point. Hector was probably even now nudging his mares, saying – eh up, girls, the old bag's here. Bolt when I give the word.

We advanced river-wards, like a drummer boy and his army of one, I thought, as our battle cry rang out in the still, starry night. Ludo was deliberately jiggling much too loudly, I decided; enjoying himself rather too much, an annoying smile on his face. I wasn't convinced he was taking this seriously.

Sure enough, as we marched down the grassy slope, we saw Hector standing under the willows with his two grey mares lying at his feet in an idyllic, pastoral scene, like a Stubbs painting.

‘How cosy is that,’ muttered Ludo. ‘Three in a bed.’

‘You can see why he likes it.’

‘But hasn't he had the snip? He can't be a stallion.’

‘No, a gelding.’ We inched forwards. ‘But