‘Well, well,’ Sarah said. ‘Friend of yours is he?’

‘We go a long way back. Went to school together.’

‘Hm. Good muscles.’

‘It’s the farming which does that. If they can lift a ewe, they can “take hold”, that is wrestle,’ Tessa explained, laughing.

Beth glanced covertly at the young man from beneath her lashes, trying not to be too obvious but curious to see what kind of man Tessa favoured. Dressed in open-necked shirt and jeans he looked relaxed and friendly, the kind of man any girl would be glad to know. But he wasn’t looking in Tessa’s direction at all. His eyes, unsurprisingly, were on Sarah.

Beth sighed, feeling strangely deflated.

Chapter Three

Andrew Barton stood tall and straight, lightly built but with well muscled arms and shoulders. His lean, almost boyish face and pale grey eyes were entirely engrossed in taking instructions from a small, older man with pink-tipped ears beneath a dark basin-cut hair style. As if sensing Beth’s interest, he half turned and looked directly into her eyes. For a long moment their gaze held and for the life of her she couldn’t break away. Then he smiled and, faintly flustered, she turned quickly away, embarrassed by her own curiosity.

He went into a small white tent and after some moments returned, dressed in a white silk sleeveless vest and pants tucked into black stockings. Over these he wore velvet briefs, very finely embroidered with swirls and flowers.

‘Don’t you dare giggle,’ Tessa hissed into her ear. ‘This is a traditional costume. Serious stuff.’