‘Darlings, would you mind awfully amusing yourself for a bit before lunch?’ she says languidly. ‘I’m having a disaster with the cook. Philip, take Lilibet round the garden and pretend you know the difference between a flower and a weed.’

So Philip and Elizabeth stroll around the Coppins garden; they talk easily and he makes her laugh and blush … so why then is he hesitating?

He tells himself that he doesn’t want to spook her but the truth is that he can’t be sure how Elizabeth feels. There is an untouchable, unreachable quality about her, as if she is isolated behind a glass wall and it both intrigues and frustrates Philip.

Perhaps that restraint is a good thing, he tries to persuade himself. There is nothing wrong with guarding your emotions. He does it himself. The last thing he wants is someone who would push and probe and want him to talk about his feelings. Elizabeth understands that, Philip thinks.

And she is kind. He has observed that about her. She notices if the footman winces or the dog limps. She imagines what it must be like for families notified that a son or a father is missing, presumed dead. She worries about the staff who may be blamed if they knock over a vase as they run around the corridors.

She asks him about his father, and he finds himself telling her how strange it was to hear about his death while he was so far away. ‘There isn’t any time to grieve when you’re at war and now that the war is over … it seems too late somehow. I still haven’t had time to go and collect his belongings.’

For the first time, Elizabeth reaches out and touches him voluntarily. She rests her hand on his. ‘I’m so sorry,’ is all she says and when he turns his palm up, she lets their fingers link together.

A clasp of hands may not be much to base a proposal on, Philip realises. But just because Elizabeth isn’t passionately in love with him doesn’t mean they can’t have a successful marriage. In fact, it might work better without messy emotions, he reasons. He only has to look at his own parents whose love match couldn’t survive exile and illness. And look at Dickie and Edwina’s tumultuous marriage! Two passionate, larger-than-life personalities endlessly clashing, constantly having affairs and furious arguments, forever separating and making up. All emotions conducted at fever pitch, for every belly laugh shared, a cutting comment. Every interaction a drama. It is hard sometimes to tell whether they love or hate each other. Philip shudders inwardly at the very thought of being trapped in such a volatile, emotional relationship.

There would be no emotional dramas with Elizabeth. No expectations or demands. And it’s not as if he isn’t fond of her. He is. Perhaps it might not be the most exciting marriage, but he could do worse, he knows. A lot worse.

Chapter 19

Elizabeth tips her head back against the rim of the bath while Bobo bustles around in the bedroom, laying out an evening dress and finding shoes and a bag. What ghastly weather we’re having. She could try that. Or, I do like your dress. But then what if she’s trying to make conversation with a man? The dress opening won’t work then. Isn’t it crowded? That’s always a reliable opener, even if it is dull.