Jamie reached out, gently placing a hand on Claire’s shoulder, offering comfort and support without words as they walked back towards the house. As the mill came into sight below, picture-pretty, with a deep-red vine glowing up the side of the yellow plaster wall, and shutters standing open to the daylight, tidy despite the worn green paint. The water gushed happily down the sluice under the idle waterwheel into the millpond. There were even ducks on the pond, and teal and goldeneye paused for a rest on their southern flight.