Then he cleared his throat. ‘Of course. Take as long as you like, Pops. I’m sorry if I’m rushing you. I’m just so … excited!’

She wasn’t excited. She was numb and it wasn’t only on account of the chilly December air.

‘Here, take this back, for now,’ she said, pressing the box back into his hands. She hadn’t even looked at the ring. Wasn’t he supposed to put the ring on her finger, not hand her the box and expect her to do it herself?

‘We’d better go back in,’ she said. She felt flat now and cross. Cross with him for letting her down. ‘Come on. They’ll all be wondering where we’ve gone.’

Chapter 47

After a sleepless night, Maggie was glad of the distraction of the Boxing Day meet.

Jack had left Snowden. He’d had to set off early to return to his squadron. He told her he would wait for her reply.

It was still hard to fathom what had happened, even though she’d been over it all night. Had Jack Rosman really asked her to marry him? It had been so unexpected. She was all mixed up inside.

It was hardly the kind of proposal she’d dreamed of. It had been rushed, in the dark and cold, and instead of feeling happy, she’d felt miserable.

Jack was offering her nothing short of a business deal. She wasn’t even sure if he loved her at all.

Oh, if only Charity was here; she’d have something to say about it. But there was only Ray and he was a boy and he didn’t even like Jack, she could tell. She could hardly discuss her dilemma with him.

Ray had been unusually quiet at breakfast. Perhaps he had a hangover. He’d drunk rather a lot on Christmas Day.

‘Come and watch the meet at the front of the house,’ Maggie had said. ‘Fresh air will help clear your head.’

When he arrived, he was wearing the balaclava helmet and the gloves she’d given him for Christmas.

‘They’re the right size then,’ she said. ‘I thought your head might have got too big for the hat!’ She nudged him to show it was a joke but he hardly smiled back. Poor Ray, he must be feeling really awful.

They stood at the top of the steps, near the front door and well away from the horses. There were dozens of riders on their mounts. Men – mostly older chaps, in red jackets and black boots – and glamorous women, some riding side-saddle, with tall hats and hairnets and crimson lipstick, laughed and called to each other. Hounds raced around, sniffing and barking excitedly. There was a thrill of anticipation in the air.

It was freezing but there were hot toddies and despite her vow never to drink again, Maggie took one from a waiter gratefully.