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Leonora turned back to address Nanny P again. ‘I am content with my life. I’m luckier than most women, as long as you are happy to live with me.’ She smiled into the wise eyes of the woman she had known all her life, disconcerted to see a shadow of sadness cross her face.

Mrs Priddy was not one to dissemble and said, ‘I know you for your passionate heart, my love, and I think you need more than mere contentment.’ Leonora hugged her, tears suddenly springing to her eyes as she realised the truth of her old nanny’s words.

She walked briskly into the library and was surprised by a man sitting at her father’s desk, a large sheet of paper spread in front of him. ‘Mr Lockwood, I thought you were still exploring the estate.’

He looked up, his face alight with enthusiasm. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and Leonora was taken aback to see just how broad and beefy his forearms were as he leant forwards, a stick of drawing charcoal in his hand. ‘I’m really interested in your splendid trees in the field that abuts the river.’ He had sketched out a plan of the area and had drawn in representations of the oak, elm, willow and maple that already existed in the space. ‘My father was a friend of Lord Greville. They were at school together and Uncle William, as I called him, often had me to stay at Dropmore Park where he began planting every type of tree that would thrive in our temperate land.’

Leonora was intrigued. She had loved trees ever since she was a child climbing into their canopies to hide or dream, but not many people she knew thought of them beyond their utility as shelter or timber for building and fuel. ‘That big oak in the middle of the field has a platform built amongst the branches. My father had that made for me, and then added a rope ladder. I spent many happy hours high up with the birds, with no one aware of where I was.’

‘Miss Blythe pointed it out to me on my first ride. But she said the rope ladder had rotted away.’

‘When she was little, I taught her how to climb trees. I don’t think she needs a rope ladder any more.’ Leonora chuckled and then noticed George Lockwood was watching her with amusement.

‘She speaks of you with much admiration, you know.’

‘She’s been as close as any family could be.’

‘I heard the servants chattering; what’s this revelation about her parentage?’ He had a querying expression on his face.

Leonora’s surprise turned to amused resignation, for she realised nothing much escaped the servants’ notice. ‘Mr Lockwood, I know you wouldn’t expect me to engage in gossip. Surely it’s for Charlotte to tell you herself?’

‘She’s rather shy in my company.’

‘She’s young. And I think she is regretful about not having me living next door when you take over the Manor.’ Leonora’s frank gaze met his more ambivalent one.

He looked away. ‘I realise that my inheriting your father’s estate causes all kinds of anxiety and some distress to those who would like things to remain as they were. But I assure you that any changes will be for the good of the estate and for the good of those who work here.’

‘I believe that.’

‘This morning, whilst exploring the village, I came across Hasterleigh Lodge and it appears a commodious dwelling.’ His voice was expressionless, but he looked to her for some response.

Leonora spoke with composure. ‘I shall be very comfortable there, I’m sure.’

He turned to gaze out of the window and seemed lost in his own thoughts. ‘After my father’s death, my mother married Beau Beacham and I had to leave my family home. I found that difficult.’

‘How old were you, Mr Lockwood?’

‘I was fourteen, enduring Eton, longing for home.’

‘Had you not inherited the house and estate you loved on your father’s death?’

‘I had, but was too young to live there.’ He let out a great gust of laughter. ‘But I would so much have preferred to be there on my own with the old servants than with Mama and the Beau in Davies Street.’

Just at that moment, the door opened and Charlotte stood on the threshold, swinging her bonnet by its ribbons. She had expected to find Leonora reading in her favourite chair in the window and was startled to see George Lockwood sitting at Mr Appleby’s old desk, as if he owned the place. She coloured when she remembered that he did in fact own the place and suddenly felt an intruder. ‘Oh! My apologies, Mr Lockwood. I thought I’d find Leonora alone.’ She looked ruffled and distracted and Leonora walked towards her with concern.

‘Lottie, I forgot. Are you here for our lesson?’ She took her arm.

‘Yes. I thought we should practise that Field duet you want us to play at your musical evening.’

They nodded to George Lockwood and walked through to the drawing room where Charlotte blurted out, ‘Everything I’ve taken for granted has changed. I was content, living with Mama Mildmay and the Reverend, next door to you. Now I may be about to know more about who I am, but not where I belong. And you’re having to move, and things just cannot be the same ever again!’ Her speech ended in a wail.

Leonora hugged her and led her to the piano-forte. ‘Come now, I’m just moving down the lane, I won’t be far away. The Mildmays aren’t going anywhere and will always love you, whatever transpires. We’ll learn more when we go to Rokeby Abbey and see the Earl.’ She opened up the lid of the Broadwood and they sat together on the stool.

Charlotte hung her head. ‘But you’re going to marry Mr Fopling and move to his new parish, so we won’t even be in the same village.’

Leonora was shocked. ‘Where did you hear that? I’ve certainly got no plans to marry anyone or go anywhere, I assure you.’ She began to run her fingers over the keys to ease her own agitation.

Charlotte answered quickly, ‘I was passing the Reverend’s door and Mr Fopling was discussing his curacy and hopes to move to Wetherleigh parish to be in charge of his own church. He said he intended to go with his wife.’ She was shy at mentioning it, not wanting to be thought an eavesdropper, but her eyes were defiant and bright with tears.