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S ilas had been gone three days, but as Ophelia contemplated his empty chair at the table all she could think of was how late they had lain in each other’s arms the night before he left, how little sleep he must have had.

She had crept back into the house close to two o’clock, sliding as stealthily as she could into her bed, the sheets cool and tight.

Laying there in the dark, she had thought of the disarray of Silas’s bed; the sheets wrinkled and loose around him when she rose, eiderdown crumpled at the foot of the bed, pillows piled under his golden head.

The lines of his body had a sleepy languor, but his eyes were sharp, watching her dress.

Leaning over to kiss him good night, he had slid a hand up the back of her leg, caressing her behind through her overalls.

The electricity of his touch had kept her awake the rest of the night.

“Sleeping ill lately, Ophelia?” Mrs. Darling said. “You’ve the look of too much work and too little rest this week.”

Ophelia shook her head, trying to hide what she was sure was a guilty blush. “It’s nothing, just had strange dreams last night, is all,” she mumbled. “Just need another cup of tea this morning.”

Mrs. Darling hummed vaguely while pouring more tea into both their cups. “We’ll need to keep going on the field work today. I’ve no intention of giving the War Ag a leg to stand on when they come for the inspection, and with Silas away this week, more of the work will fall to you, I’m afraid.”

“It’s no bother. I’ll check on the new field and make sure the scarecrows have been keeping the birds off. I had planned to weed in the long field today as well. Samson and Delilah can be turned out in the small pasture for a few hours, I think.”

Mrs. Darling nodded. “Best get on then.”

It was hours later when Ophelia returned from weeding the wheat and checking in on the progress in the newer field.

She called to Samson and Delilah as she emerged from the shelter of the barn and outbuildings.

They grazed behind the farmhouse, in the small paddock next to the kitchen garden, heads down, thick tails swishing at flies.

A small black bird landed on Delilah’s rump, stretching out a wing gracefully before lifting into flight again.

Ophelia watched the hot, lazy dance of the late May day before her, the ever-present hum and tick of insects like the breath of the land around her, interrupted only by the odd call of an animal or rumble of a farm vehicle.

Suddenly both horses raised their heads, ears pricked, bodies erect and watchful.

A high whistle came from behind the house and Ophelia thought of the lips that were pursed together at that exact moment, throwing a jaunty tune out into the air.

“You’re back!” She flung herself at him as he crossed into the farmyard.

He dropped his satchel and caught her up in a hug, grunting at her impact.

He was warm from the walk, smelt a little of sweat and warm linen, and she was so bloody glad to see him.

He glanced quickly around, then pressed his lips to hers in a soft greeting.

She wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss.

Pulling back enough to grin at her, Silas said, “What a welcome. I might leave every couple of days now that I know what awaits me.”

She boxed his shoulder and stuck out her tongue, laughing. Silas silenced her with a kiss.

Once they made it back to Silas’s room, she sank onto his bed while he emptied his bag and placed his items back in their spots. She was dying to ask what had happened with her father, but didn’t want to push.

“I saw your father,” he said, closing the lid on the chest at the foot of his bed.

Ophelia nodded, her breath caught in her suddenly too-small chest.

“I think it helped to have Mr. Bone, but I did it, Fee ... I stood up to him. I stood up for my family.”

“I’m so glad, Silas. I’m so happy for you and proud of you. How does it feel?”

“Strange ... like there is something gone that I can’t quite put my finger on.

Lighter, I think. Like I can finally be here without looking over my shoulder.

Like something is finished.” He came and sat next to her on the bed, lifted her hand to thread his fingers with hers. “I’m so bloody glad to see you.”

“So am I.”

“Tell me everything I’ve missed. How’s the field? The horses? Any word from the War Ag?”

They stood and Ophelia told him all the news, little as it was, while they walked out toward the fields.

Hours later, only the bread crust and a few radishes, their shiny, red skins bright against the blue and white of Mrs. Darling’s china, were left of dinner.

Silas watched Ophelia toy with her teacup, fingers fidgeting with a tiny chip in the curve of the handle.

Over dinner, they had all discussed his visit with Blackwood, the women listening with smiles at Mr. Bone’s swashbuckling return to lawyering, and his joy at knowing that his family was safe in the house they had always known, working the land they loved.

She seemed to be taking it all in, but now she sat silent, far away.

“Penny for your thoughts, Fee?”

She looked up, owlish eyes blinking slowly at him. “Hmm?”

“Thinking about your father?”

“No,” she said slowly. “Well, yes, but only in that I’ve used up enough time thinking about him, worrying about him, talking about him.

I realized today that I’m finished. I think I’d not properly understood that he’s had no bearing on me since I left the estate; I thought I was walking away from something, but it turned out I was travelling toward the beginning of my life.

This life. Here .” Her words were slow, he could almost see the thoughts forming as she spoke.

“I’ve been free since I got into the wagon with Hannah, but I didn’t truly realize that until just now. ”

Silas reached a hand across the table, letting the tips of his fingers rest against the tips of hers.

She blinked again and slid her fingers in between his, squeezing gently.

Looking up from their hands, she smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter anymore what he does or doesn’t do. I’m free of him. And now you are, too.”

Silas took a slow breath and looked up. She was watching him, taking everything in, her grey eyes cloudy, but certain. For the first time in many, many months, he felt certain, too.