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‘Which will be tomorrow evening,’ Lady Cavenhurst said. ‘We are all invited to Broadacres for supper.’

‘All of us?’ Jane queried, her heart sinking.

‘Yes, of course. Lady Wyndham would not leave anyone out, would she? Did Mark say who his new groomsman is to be?’

‘Yes. Mr Andrew Ashton. He was with Mark when I met him.’

‘Ashton!’ exclaimed her mother. ‘Why on earth did he choose him?’

‘He is an old friend of Mark’s, Mama, so why not?’

‘Andrew Ashton,’ Isabel murmured. ‘Didn’t he come and stay at Broadacres years ago?’

‘I believe he did.’ Jane said. ‘He is much changed, having come back from India after making his fortune there.’

‘India! Mark has said we may go there for our wedding trip. I shall enjoy asking Mr Ashton all about it. Mama, what shall we wear for this supper party? Is it to be formal?’

‘No, dear, Lady Wyndham says informal on her invitation and there is to be music and cards.’

‘Then we must contrive to keep Teddy away from the card table,’ Jane said, a remark upon which they all agreed.

* * *

The interior of Broadacres was as imposing as the exterior. It had a grand entrance hall where the cantilevered staircase of the outside was repeated with the addition of a wrought-iron balustrade. There was a long gallery lined on one side with paintings, not only of the family, but of landscapes and seascapes, horses, dogs and cattle. There were long windows on the other side, which looked out over the sweep of the carriage drive. Chairs and sofas were placed at intervals and a long Turkish carpet laid down the centre covered the stone flags. Off this gallery were several beautifully furnished reception rooms, a book room, a formal dining room and at the far end, occupying the whole of the ground floor of one wing, a magnificent ball room. Upstairs the bedchambers were equally spacious and well equipped.

‘To think this will be your home,’ Jane whispered to Isabel as they were conducted down the gallery and along a corridor to the family withdrawing room. Ahead of them marched Sir Edward and Lady Cavenhurst and an unusually subdued Teddy. ‘You will one day be mistress of it.’

‘Oh, don’t say that. It terrifies me. I wish we could have our own place, something smaller and less grand, but Mark will not hear of it. He says it is so big we need never come across his parents if we do not wish to.’

‘I am sure you will manage very well.’

The footman who was conducting them opened the door of the withdrawing room and announced them one by one as they entered. As Lady Wyndham came forward to greet Sir Edward and his wife, Jane looked about her. Although it was a grand room, it had a comfortable feel about it, as if real people lived in it and used it, unlike the public rooms at the front of the building which seemed cold and impersonal.

She came out of her reverie when she heard Lady Wyndham introducing Drew to her father and mother and Sir Edward’s response. ‘I believe we have met, sir.’

‘Indeed, you have,’ Mark put in. ‘Mr Ashton stayed with us for a few weeks when we left Cambridge. That was... How long ago, Drew?’

‘I do believe it was all of ten years,’ Drew responded. ‘So long that I am not at all surprised that Sir Edward has forgot me. I was but a stripling with pockets to let.’

‘Now he is a nabob.’ Mark laughed. ‘As rich as Golden Ball and certainly no stripling.’

‘That much is evident,’ Sir Edward said. Jane knew he was remembering and wondering if he had come to renew his suit. She had wondered about that herself, but dismissed the idea. Too much water had flowed under the bridge in those years.

Lady Wyndham turned to Jane. ‘Do I need to introduce you to our guest, Jane?’

‘No, for I remember him very well, but I doubt Isabel and Sophie do.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Sophie said. ‘I never met a nabob either. What does a nabob do?’ She addressed her last remark to Drew, who was bowing in front of her.

‘He trades in India, Miss Sophie,’ he said. ‘He sends Indian artefacts, spices and jewels back to these islands in fast ships and they return with items of English manufacture, furniture, ornaments, gowns, those sorts of things, and thereby he makes a profit.’

‘And have you made a good profit, Mr Ashton?’ This came from Isabel, who had been standing beside her sister, staring at Drew in fascination.

He bowed to her. ‘Tolerable, Miss Isabel. You see, I do remember you, though you were still at your lessons at the time.’

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