“No, I'm not married,” he said with a look of amusement. “I've thought about it once or twice, but I never felt it was the right thing, in spite of a great deal of pressure from my family. Oldest son and all that. I don't want to make a mistake and marry the wrong woman. I'd rather be alone, so I am.”

“I agree.” She nodded, looking surprisingly determined. At times, she seemed almost childlike to him, and at other times, as she spoke to him, he could see that she had very definite ideas, like about marriage and going to university.

“What would you have studied, if they'd let you go to university?” he asked with interest, and she looked dreamy as she thought about it.

“Philosophy. The ancient Greeks, I think. Religion perhaps, or the philosophy of religion. I read the Bible once from beginning to end.” He looked impressed. She was obviously a brilliant girl, as well as being beautiful, and so very easy to talk to.

“And what did you think? I can't say I've read it, except in snips and bits, and mostly at weddings and funerals. I seem to spend most of my time on horses, and helping my father run our property. I have a lifelong romance with the earth.” It was hard to convey to her how much his land and his own turf meant to him. It had been bred into him.

“I think a lot of men do,” Beata said quietly. “Where is your family's property?” She was enjoying talking to him and didn't want it to end.

“It's in Dordogne. Horse country. It's near Périgord, near Bordeaux, if that means anything.” His eyes lit up just speaking of it, and she could see what it meant to him.

“I've never been there, but it must be beautiful if you love it so much.”

“It is,” he assured her. “And where do you live in Germany?”

“Cologne.”

“I've been there,” he said, looking pleased. “I like Bavaria very much, too. And I've had some lovely times in Berlin.”

“That's where my brother Horst wants to live, in Berlin.