grew up it was going to matter a great deal.
'Children need affection if they are to thrive,' she went on, 'and, in the absence of a father, strong male role models.'
'You speak knowledgeably.'
'It's only common sense. How can a boy become a well-balanced man if he has no male guidance?'
'Good point.' Harry reflected that it was also a point he was going to have to address. Jamie would have done no less had their positions been reversed.
'It is hard to lose a parent like that when one is too young to remember. The child will only know his father as a result of what his mother tells him.'
'From what you say I must infer that you like children.'
'Of course. Don't you?'
'Yes, although I confess my experience has been limited - thus far.'
She was suddenly aware of other implications beneath this conversation. One day Harry was going to want an heir. What man did not? After Badajoz it had been her greatest dread that she might be pregnant, but that fear at least had not been realised and it had not been relevant since. The notion that it might become relevant no longer repelled her. The thought was disturbing but somehow not displeasing.
'Then you wouldn't mind broadening your experience?' she asked.
The question took him aback but a swift sideways glance revealed that Elena's expression was quite innocent, or apparently so. He suppressed a smile.
'No,' he replied. 'I wouldn't mind at all.'
Although they had initially been following the river, they were eventually forced to make a detour to avoid a large expanse of salt marsh, a region known locally as Las Marismas. However, the lower-lying countryside was undemanding compared to the mountainous regions they had traversed earlier. Unfortunately the weather, which had been pleasantly warm, gradually changed and became overcast. As the day progressed the cloud on the horizon became as dark as a bruise.
'Looks like we're in for a spell o' damp,' said Jack.
'We'll find somewhere to stay tonight,' replied Harry. 'According to the map it's not far now to Villafranca.'
In this he was correct. However, the only available accommodation was a ramshackle inn that would never have figured on Don Manuel's list of recommendations. For a start it had no individual bedchambers for its guests, only a communal dormitory beneath the rafters. The patron informed them that several of the low cots were already taken and, Harry guessed, all by men. Had he and Jack been alone it wouldn't have bothered him in the least. They'd slept in far worse places. With two women along, and one of them his wife, his response was different.
'I can't subject you to this,' he told Elena.
'Subject me to what?'
'To sleeping in this.'
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she had spent years sleeping in similar accommodation, but decided it would be impolitic at this point.
'It's not ideal but at least it's dry,' she replied.
'Not ideal? There's an understatement if ever I heard one.'
She bit back a smile. 'If we take four beds together you and Jack can take the outer ones and we the inner two. That way we'll be quite safe.'
He frowned. 'Sleep with a pistol under your pillow.'
'Of course.'
As he turned away to speak to Jack, Elena caught Concha's eye. The maid grinned and lowered her voice.
'In my experience a pistol is not much use against snoring and flatulence.'
Elena gave a snort of laughter and hurriedly turned it into a cough. Harry glanced round. Nothing could have been more innocent than the eyes that met his.
They went down and he made enquiries as to what might be available for dinner. Their host beamed.
'Today we have chickpea and spinach soup.'
'Good. What else?'
'Bread.'
Harry sighed. 'I suppose you have wine?'
'Of course wine, senor. What kind of house would it be otherwise?'
The man clearly considered it a rhetorical question because he bustled off before Harry could vouchsafe a reply.
Elena caught his eye. 'The simplest meals are often the best.'
'In that case I'd say we're in for a treat.'
Since the inn had no private parlour the four of them ate in the communal dining room. It was a long room with a timber frame in-filled by adobe bricks. At one time these had been plastered over, but now the plaster layer had crumbled away in places. What remained was yellowed with age. At the far end was a wide hearth where a fire burned. Bunches of garlic, dried herbs and chilli peppers were strung from the smoke-darkened beams in the low ceiling.