‘Thank you.’

From her position beneath the portico, Lou watched Captain Mandeville greet the rest of his family. He stood head and shoulders above the women, and when he removed his gauntlet-like leather gloves to shake hands with Edward, she saw that he stood a good few inches taller than his younger brother. Lady Mandeville hovered slightly apart from the family group. Was she holding back? Lou wondered. Clinging to her reserve and maintaining her stiff upper lip? If she had lived a century later, Lady Mandeville would have felt no need to hide her emotions; a son returning unscathed on leave from the army was something to celebrate. As it was, Lady Mandeville kept her distance and watched on as Charlotte and Mrs Hart showered her son with the affection she seemed unable to.

With the family welcomes complete, Charlotte dragged Captain Mandeville in the direction of the portico. For a leader of men, he seemed unable – or perhaps unwilling – to resist his determined little sister.

‘Tom, let me introduce you to my very good friend, Miss Louisa Arnold,’ Charlotte said. ‘Louisa is staying with us as a guest of Aunt Leonora. I hope to convince her to stay indefinitely.’

‘Well,’ Captain Mandeville said, ‘any very good friend of my little sister’s is a very good friend of mine. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Arnold.’ He tucked his gloves beneath his arm and took Lou’s hand in his, shaking it warmly. ‘Please let me know if there is anything I can do to prolong your stay. Anything to keep this silly little bird quiet.’

‘You beast!’ Charlotte tapped her brother’s arm.

Captain Mandeville smiled at Lou and shrugged. His teeth were straight and so very white; contrasting with the grime smeared across his face, it made him appear boyish rather than a man pushing thirty. Could this really be the pompous cavalry officer from the painting in the hall? In the flesh, with his fingers pressed into her palm, he felt incredibly real. Incredibly human.

‘Come, Thomas,’ Lady Mandeville said. ‘Let’s go inside to the warm.’

Lou had left it too long to respond. When Captain Mandeville’s hand slipped from hers, she silently kicked herself. What would he think of her? He’d think she was a dumb idiot, that’s what.

Returning to his motorcycle, Captain Mandeville unstrapped a small, battered leather case from the back. He led the way into the house, his family following close behind with Lou dragging up the rear, kicking at the snow.

The staff had formed a line in the hall. Bainbridge stepped forward to take Captain Mandeville’s suitcase, which he handed to the second footman.

‘Really, old friend,’ Captain Mandeville protested, ‘I’m quite capable of carrying my own luggage up a few flights of stairs. Anyway, how have you been? How is the pheasant this year?’

‘I’m sure you will not be disappointed, Captain Mandeville,’ Bainbridge answered.

‘I was sorry to have missed the grouse. Father said it was a particularly good season.’