Maggie frowned. What was he driving at? He was making a speech! She’d hardly expected that. She nodded and then realised he couldn’t see her properly so she said, ‘Yes, yes of course.’

Was he about to admit something, take her into his confidence? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear it, whatever he was about to say.

‘There’s something I wanted to ask you.’ It wasn’t like Jack to be so serious. Goodness, he wasn’t ill, was he? Perhaps it was going to be one of those morbid discussions about what might happen to him. An ‘If I don’t make it’ or ‘If the worst happens’ chat? He wouldn’t do that, not at Christmas, would he?

He took Maggie’s hand – ah, that was better – and pressed an object into it. It felt like a small box. Before she could open it or even say anything, Jack seemed to disappear. He’d dropped to the ground.

She gave a little ‘Ooh!’ Had he fallen? She started to reach out to help him up but then she realised where he was and stopped herself.

Jack Rosman had gone down on one knee.

‘Don’t you realise what I’m asking you? Pops, let’s get married. Will you be my wife?’

Maggie was stunned.

Was he really doing this? Proposing? It wasn’t the kind of proposal she’d ever imagined. Not that she’d ever imagined Jack … Goodness, she was still waiting for him to kiss her! And now this. It was too much.

Her head was still reeling as the French doors opened. It was Dakin the butler. If he could make out Jack, kneeling on the icy terrace, he didn’t show any surprise.

‘Has anyone seen Mr Maguire?’ he called out. ‘Her Ladyship’s looking for him!’

* * *

In the bushes, Ray gasped. Blast, he’d clean forgotten the favour he’d agreed to do for Lady Ashford. His ears still ringing from the disastrous scene he’d just witnessed, he tiptoed away as quietly as he could manage, hoping, if Maggie and Jack heard anything at all, they’d think it was a bird in the bushes.

He’d be spotted if he went through the French doors, so he had to run around the side of the house and go in through the kitchen. How could he have been so stupid as to forget? They’d all be waiting for him and he still had to get changed into his outfit. He was, after all, Father Christmas!

* * *

‘You know I’m heir to Snowden,’ Jack was saying. He’d stood up now and they were standing in the cold, facing one another. ‘You could live here – eventually – would you like that? To be mistress of this house?’

Maggie frowned. What did he mean? ‘Mistress of this house’? Was he having a laugh, toying with her?