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Charlotte’s eyes were wide. ‘Even taller than that gamekeeper at the Rokeby estate?’

‘Yes, by a good measure.’

Mrs Mildmay gasped and took Charlotte’s arm. ‘My dear, when were you ever in the way of Diggory Shrubb? He only ever concerns himself with poachers.’

The young woman met Leonora’s eyes before responding airily, ‘Oh, Mama Mildmay, Leonora and I sometimes cut through the park at the Abbey on our walks.’

‘Well, my dear, no longer can you wander at will. The new Earl is back from the wars and not in a cheery mood, it would seem.’

‘He’s already asked Leonora to tune his piano-forte,’ Charlotte said with a giggle.

Mrs Mildmay grasped her arm again and in a hushed voice exclaimed, ‘No young woman is safe in Rokeby Abbey! The parties his father used to have! His sons were exposed to them too. Carriages full of disreputables would arrive from London. The profligacy went on for days. You would not have believed the servants’ tales!’

Leonora intervened. ‘Do not fear, the new Earl seems to be far from sociable. In fact, he will be absent all the while I am there.’ With this, she seemed to soothe some of Sarah Mildmay’s anxieties.

At the sight of George Lockwood in the doorway, Leonora crossed the room to introduce him to the assembled guests, and at last they could process into the dining room where Cook’s special meal awaited. Leonora had decided it would be gracious to seat George Lockwood at the head of the table, but he declined. ‘This is still your home, Miss Appleby.’ He sat instead at her right hand with Mrs Mildmay beside him, and opposite Mr Fopling and Charlotte Blythe. Mrs Priddy and Reverend Mildmay took their places at the foot of the table. Everyone’s eyes were on the new heir as he tucked into the beef.

He met their eyes and smiled. ‘I think it will interest you all that I won’t be taking possession of Hasterleigh Manor in the immediate future. I hope Miss Appleby will remain here at least until the summer.’

Charlotte could not contain her delight. She clapped her hands together. ‘Oh, I’m so glad.’ She turned to address the hostess with a question in her bright eyes. ‘That means things can go on as usual?’

Leonora was more composed at the news and turned to Mr Lockwood with her own question. ‘So do you wish me to continue overseeing the estate?’

‘I would wish it to carry on as before, with you and your father’s bailiff in charge. If that suits you, Miss Appleby?’

She nodded, a small bubble of happiness rising in her chest.

He continued, ‘We’ll formalise the arrangement while I’m here. You see, I’m busy with my father’s estate in Oxfordshire. It’s in a sorry state. And my stepfather insists I spend the Season in Town with him.’ His face fell.

Mrs Mildmay asked him, her voice full of concern, ‘Do you not care for London, sir?’

‘I don’t enjoy frittering my time with gaming and dancing and would much prefer country life. But first I have to find myself a wife.’ George Lockwood gave a rueful smile. His bluff, honest way of speaking made Mrs Mildmay’s eyes widen in surprise. He then turned back to Leonora, a certain tightness constraining his features. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing over your father’s estate. I’m impressed by how productive it appears to be from the figures your bailiff, Fleming, has sent me.’ His candid blue eyes gazed into hers and she realised with relief he was not going to be the ogre she had feared.

There were other women around the table coming to similarly favourable conclusions about him. Mrs Priddy was listening to the Reverend’s chatter about his parishioners, all of whom she knew or had helped bring into the world, but her attention was half on the top end of the table where her beloved Leonora sat with this new man to enter their world. He was rich and nice-looking enough, big and strong, a perfect country gentleman, but even better husband material.

Mrs Mildmay also approved of a man who was tired of London and preferred the country life. How much she wanted to see her beautiful foster daughter Charlotte happily settled. She looked sideways at George Lockwood. It was not in her nature to aim high, let alone scheme to achieve her ends, but she thought what a perfect son-in-law this man would make. Pity he was quite so tall – she and the Reverend were like pygmies beside him, but Mrs Mildmay was prepared to overlook that handicap given the kindness in his eyes and the largeness of his fortune.

Charlotte too eyed him with interest. She so wanted Leonora to be happy and married with a family of her own, and could not think of a more fairy-tale ending than the heir to the Hasterleigh estate marrying her dearest friend. This would mean she could remain the chatelaine of the house she had grown up in and loved so. She thought Mr Lockwood a fine figure of a man and liked his amused eyes, deciding he would most likely treat Leonora well.

But Leonora was watching Charlotte as she listened with rapt attention to their guest relating a story about his favourite hunting dog. Her eyes were sparkling with amusement at the story’s denouement. Would it concern Mr Lockwood, Leonora wondered, if someone as beautiful and charming as Charlotte Blythe had unknown parentage? Surely her evident attractions would outweigh any disadvantage of illegitimacy?

George Lockwood, himself the focus of so much scrutiny and speculation, seemed unaware of the stir his presence created. He had been schooled by his stepfather to practise sprezzatura, the courtier’s manner of studied carelessness and effortless superiority, which sat uneasily on his open nature. The tension between the sophisticated dandy he was required to project and the friendly giant he naturally was created a guarded care in his dealings with strangers he was meant to impress. Instead, he focussed on the meal, so appreciated after a tiring day’s travel, and was particularly delighted with the quality of the beef he ate with such gusto.

What he’d seen of the house looked modest but handsome enough. He was not one to nit-pick and find fault in unexpected good fortune. And he was pleased to be in the company of two such attractive young women, both of whom were much more interesting and open in their manners than the schoolroom misses he had to court in Town. He liked the lack of airs of these country people and looked forward to the week he had allotted himself to explore his inheritance.

It had been some years since the small rural community of Hasterleigh had enjoyed so much excitement: in this one week they had not only seen the arrival of the new heir of the Manor, but also the unexpected return of the master of the big house, the mysterious new Earl of Rokeby.

When at last Leonora went to bed that night, her mind was restless with possibilities, not focussed on these unexpected arrivals in the neighbourhood, but on the fact that she could remain at the Manor for a few more months and continue to help run the estate alongside her father’s bailiff, the redoubtable Ned Fleming.

When she came down to breakfast, Nanny P was already there, her knitting in her lap and a cup of coffee at her elbow. ‘Good morning, child. I realise with Mr Lockwood in the house, you need me as chaperone. You know how the village gossips for the want of something better to do.’ She looked up, her wise face wreathed in a knowing smile. ‘I must say, dear, he seems a good man, and up to the job of running the estate. What do you think?’

‘I hope that first impressions don’t deceive. I’m just pleased I won’t have to move into the Lodge just yet.’ She helped herself to some toast and sat down beside the older woman. Leonora loved this room in the morning. Her mother had chosen to have it painted a rose pink and no one had ever wished to change it, despite it being a surprising colour for a dining room. It glowed in the morning sun that spilled through the birch tree in the courtyard, and never failed to lift her spirits.

‘I approve of his liking for the country,’ Mrs Priddy said mildly, not looking up from her speeding fingers.

Leonora laughed and leant towards her, to say in a confiding low voice, ‘I know you well enough to recognise your matchmaking brain at work. If it’s anyone I’d like to see well settled, it’s Lottie.’

Nanny P stopped her work and looked up, a troubled expression on her face. ‘My dear, you know her unknown parentage makes it more complicated, charming and beautiful as she is.’