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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.’

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?’

Leonora was disconcerted and felt her cheeks grow warmer.

It was considered impertinent to draw attention to someone’s physical size, but he seemed to be quite unembarrassed and she thought she should be as frank.

‘I’m afraid we don’t. But our sporting neighbour, Sir Roderick Fopling, runs a whole stable of hunters.

I’m sure he’d be happy to lend you one of his. ’

‘That would be very kind, Miss Appleby. Perhaps we could make a visit this afternoon?’ He met her eyes with an enthusiastic gleam.

‘I have a previous engagement so will not be able to accompany you, I’m afraid.

’ Her face brightened with a happy thought.

‘But the Foplings are well known to Miss Blythe and her family, the vicar and his wife. I’m sure Charlotte Blythe would introduce you.

It would be perfectly appropriate if Mr Fleming accompanied you both. ’

The men set off to return to the Manor while Leonora headed for the Vicarage to call on Charlotte.

The house had all the charm of its occupants.

An old, honeyed-stone building over three floors, with symmetrical latticed windows placed three on each side of a porticoed front door.

Late roses of golden yellow still bloomed on the trellis round the door and bees were busy in the red and purple hollyhocks, taller than Leonora.

As she walked up the path, Charlotte opened the door, her face bright with the excitement of the previous night. ‘I’m so glad it’s you! Come in.’

‘I can’t stay. I have to get ready to go to Rokeby Abbey. But Lottie, would you mind introducing Mr Lockwood to Sir Roderick Fopling? I hope he’ll be able to borrow one of his hunters. He’s too big for ours.’

‘Of course I will. But what about last night?’ Charlotte could not suppress her curiosity. ‘What do you think of him?’

‘I am pleasantly surprised that he seems to be such a countryman, despite his dandyish appearance.’

‘Oh, no! You couldn’t call him a dandy! He’s just finely dressed, surely? But what about his character?’

‘He seems perfectly amiable and I hope will be an excellent custodian of our beloved Manor estate.’

Charlotte was impatient with Leonora’s prevarication. ‘Of course he will! But did you like him?’

Leonora laughed. ‘He seems well enough, but it’s too soon to say if I like him. More to the point, do you?’

‘Of course I like him. I think him really fine. He fills a room! Rarely do we have the pleasure of any personable young man in our midst.’

‘This is why I think you should at least have a partial Season in Town to meet some other young men and realise the world is larger than Hasterleigh, however lovely it is here.’ Leonora turned to go.

‘Thank you, Lottie, for taking my place this afternoon. I think if you can charm a good hunter out of Sir Roderick, then Mr Lockwood will be happy to set off on his tour of the estate with our bailiff.’

She ran from the Vicarage, aware that she had to hurry if she was going to be punctual on her first visit to Rokeby Abbey.