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Leonora grasped her old nanny’s arm. ‘Oh, it’s so unfair! Why should the child pay for the transgressions of her parents? Charlotte Blythe’s character and person are such that any man should be proud to call her his wife!’

‘We know that, my dear, but Society is not so forgiving. She will marry, but it’s a mistake to aim too high. I fear your Mr Lockwood’s cheerful manner and fortune mean he has the choice of any number of well-born heiresses in Town.’ Mrs Priddy put down her knitting and turned to face Leonora, her eyes intent. ‘But you are a different matter, Nora. You are well-born with a small inheritance of your own. You have beauty and charm and every kind of accomplishment – your father and I made sure of that – and I can think of nothing better than your remaining at the Manor, the property that is rightfully yours.’

‘You are incorrigible!’ Leonora leant over to kiss her cheek. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to get a great deal of knitting done. I will need you to chaperone me this afternoon at the Abbey.’

‘Oh, I’m looking forward to that. I haven’t seen inside that great crumbling house since I went there when the two rapscallion boys were young.’

Leonora’s interest was piqued. ‘Really, Nanny P, why so?’

‘Oh, their poor mama was beside herself. They were out of control, and encouraged to be thus by the old Earl. She felt in need of some advice.’

‘No! What did you say?’ Leonora was intrigued.

‘Well, I just told the Countess they were good boys with an excess of animal spirits.’

‘Of course you did! That’s what you thought of all the roaring boys in the village. So what did you suggest would put them right?’

‘I suggested they needed small jobs around the estate. Charles liked shooting so I thought he could work with Mr Shrubb, the gamekeeper, protecting the habitat for the nesting grouse.’

‘What was the younger brother like?’ Leonora remembered her abrupt meeting on the road with the arrogant Earl.

‘He was quite different. He loved dogs and was very musical. Of course his father, the veriest rake if ever there was one, didn’t appreciate his son playing the piano-forte, like a schoolroom miss, he used to say.’

‘Well it’s that very instrument the Earl wants tuned this afternoon. But he won’t be there.’

‘It may be more relaxed if he isn’t,’ Nanny P said in a way which made Leonora look at her again, wondering what it was she knew. Before she could ask, George Lockwood came into the room in search of breakfast.

Leonora sprang to her feet. ‘Good morning, Mr Lockwood. I hope you slept well?’ She was interested to see him dressed in his country clothes and looking so much more at home. His green broadcloth jacket was generously fitted around his broad shoulders and his buckskin breeches were a soft buttery yellow, but it was clear they were as finely tailored as the immaculate Town clothes he had arrived in.

He bowed to both women. ‘I slept as in the arms of Morpheus. Thank you for giving me such a comfortable room.’

Mrs Priddy poured out some coffee for him and Leonora gestured to the cold ham and the bread. ‘There’s ale if you prefer. And sweet pastries on that plate by the window.’

They all sat down again at the table and George Lockwood extracted from his pocket a hand-drawn map of the Hasterleigh Estate that he spread between them. In between mouthfuls of bread and ham he pointed to the big hundred-acre field. ‘Can I congratulate you, Miss Appleby, for this is a well-resourced estate. I’m intending to bring my father’s less well-endowed land back into productivity, but yours has plentiful water. A boon indeed.’ His forefinger traced the course of the Hester River that meandered through the Hasterleigh acreage, providing irrigation points for livestock and crops. ‘I’m not surprised your arable and pastureland is as fertile as it is.’ Mrs Priddy saw Leonora’s stance soften under his praise of the estate and her care of it.

Mr Lockwood took another gulp of coffee. ‘I am indeed grateful to you for offering to show me over the estate. Have you any free time today?’ George Lockwood’s frank face turned to Leonora, his blue eyes alight with anticipation. Nanny P had returned to her knitting but was alert to the conversation and change in the atmosphere.

‘Yes, I can manage a couple of hours this morning but I’m busy later. My bailiff Ned Fleming will come with us and can accompany you in the afternoon.’ She stood up and took her leave of him and Mrs Priddy. ‘I can meet you here in twenty minutes, if that suits.’

As Leonora, Ned Fleming and Mr Lockwood strode down towards the woodland that fringed the western border of the Manor lands, George Lockwood threw back his head and inhaled the crisp clean air. ‘If I never returned to London, I would be a happy man.’

Leonora looked across at him with some puzzlement. ‘Why do you feel compelled to go then, sir?’

‘I’m only there for the Season. In part to please my stepfather, Beau Beacham.’

Even Leonora in her country fastness had heard of the Beau. He was well known as a dandy and man about Town, striking for his elegance, charm and fast way of life. ‘He married my mother when she was widowed, and was kind enough to adopt me before she herself died.’ He looked across at her with a rueful smile. ‘He has a high opinion of his place in Society and expects me to occupy a similarly elevated position, especially to find myself a suitably rich and noble wife to match his social pretensions. Then I’ll be free of my obligations.’

Leonora felt a prickle of unease at being reminded of the gulf between the simple country life she and Charlotte enjoyed in Hasterleigh and the expectations and prejudices of London’s haut ton. How foolish to even countenance the thought that Mr Lockwood and his family would consider her young friend as a suitable match.

They walked on through the lower field ready for the plough, Mr Fleming at a discreet distance. Mr Lockwood bent to crumble the soil between his fingers as he turned to the bailiff. ‘This is good loamy soil?’

‘Yessir, over a brashy clay.’ Ned Fleming’s eyes met Leonora’s; he appeared pleased that this fancy Town gentleman seemed to not mind getting his hands dirty.

The new owner of the Manor estate then gestured to the neglected field on the other side of the drystone wall. ‘Whose land abuts ours?’

Fleming replied, ‘Oh that’s the Rokeby Estate, sir. The Earl was killed fighting for Lord Wellington in Spain. It’s been fallow ever since he left.’

‘It’s in a sorry state. Those tares and thistles migrate into our domain, I suspect?’ He narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the distant fields. ‘It would be easiest to traverse the Manor lands on horseback.’ George Lockwood turned to Leonora with a warm smile. ‘Do you have a mount big enough to carry me?’