‘Well,’ she said, repeating the words Alex had used earlier in the day. ‘It might work. At least I wouldn’t have to go back to my bloody family and I can hardly stay at Monk’s Wood for the rest of my life. If you’re sure you want to do it …’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m sure.’ Her cold weighing-up of the options disturbed him but he had no doubts. He thought he could save her from the troubles of her past. Her uncertainty made her even more attractive.

They married in the following spring. By then of course he knew exactly who she was. He had thought that Marcus Grenville might not consider him good enough and was excited by the prospect of having to fight for her, but the MP had welcomed him with open arms, relieved only it seemed to find someone willing to take her on. The wedding was a quiet affair. Simon’s mother had expected something grand and for Simon the ceremony was an anti-climax. Only Joanna’s immediate family and the residents of Monk’s Wood sat on the bride’s side of the church, and the reception afterwards was small, with everyone trying to be on their best behaviour.

They settled very quickly into respectable married life. Simon completed his MSc and Joanna finished her course at art school, but they no longer seemed like students. On their first wedding anniversary Marcus Grenville bought the Old School House for them. It seemed to Simon like a prize for perseverance. By then he had started to work as Conservation Officer for the Westmorland Wildlife Trust, but they would never have afforded a home of their own without Grenville’s assistance. Joanna turned the school into a pottery and seemed happy enough.