‘Oh, I understand you perfectly well.’ He disappeared into the storeroom and emerged carrying a sack of hay, which he took to Ambrose’s stall. He began to shove fistfuls into the trough. ‘I suppose I should be grateful that, for a change, it’s my sister who is the subject of conjecture. If you all had your way, I’d resign my commission today. You’d have me leave the real world behind and return to this … this … well whatever this is.’

‘I’ll thank you not to put words in my mouth,’ she said. Tom seemed not to hear. That, or he chose to ignore her.

‘You’d have me spend my life in the company of men, like my cousin. Men who have never done an honest day’s work in their lives. Who spend their time in idle pursuits at their clubs, drinking and gossiping like a bunch of Bloomsbury housewives.’

He paused, a handful of hay in his fist. ‘The men in my command, now, they are real men. There’s one lance corporal, Hughes, the son of a dead cabinetmaker. He’s had nothing in the way of opportunities, yet has learned to ride and carry a lance and fight as well as any man born into the saddle. No, better! That boy has more honour in his little finger than a man like Caxton will ever have.’

He shoved the hay into Ambrose’s trough. ‘The men in my regiment don’t have the luxury of believing in the conflicts they fight in, but, by god, they will fight. For pride, duty, honour – yes. But for more than that. Hughes has a widowed mother and siblings to support. Other men fight for wives, children, sweethearts. They fight with passion, because they have a reason to. I’m just biding my time, filling the hours before I am called on to fill a dead man’s shoes.’

‘Tom, don’t.’ Lou could hardly bear it. ‘You’re honest and dutiful –’

‘Am I? Really? Oh, I love this place – every tree, every blade of grass, every brick – of course I do. And when the time comes, I’ll return to sit on the family seat. I’ll even become the MP, if the locals will have me. But for what? What point is there to any of it? What is my reason?’

He dropped the bag to the floor. His shoulders slumped. The fight had gone out of him. ‘Perhaps I should accept defeat and abandon a life where I have purpose to come back here and slip into the tedium of becoming my father’s estate manager. I’ll hide away in that office with maps and rent ledgers, and settle for a marriage to Emma Caxton. Perhaps the price I must pay for the privileges I have enjoyed is to spend the rest of my days living a half-life, never quite feeling enough, but ensuring that this house is preserved for another generation.’

‘You make marriage sound like a death.’

‘To the wrong person, it would be.’ Tom’s voice had lost its harsh edge. He took a step towards Lou. ‘I would rather love passionately for one hour than benignly for a lifetime. What about you, Lou? What do you think?’