‘All I know is that Archie has always been here for all of us, and your mother loved him,’ said James. ‘Besides, he didn’t say anything. Wait until you’ve spoken to the solicitor this afternoon. Old Walker will tell you everything.’ James pulled his nightshirt off and looked at his brooding wife. ‘Do you know how dark you look when you are in such a mood? Be thankful for what you have got, Isabelle, else it looks like you are a money-grabbing bitch. We’ve got Ingfield, thanks to your aunt, whom nobody had a good word for. It’s a grand house, with plenty of bedrooms and all you need in a home. What do you need Windfell Manor for?’

Isabelle stared at her husband and didn’t reply as she walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving James in no doubt that the day ahead was going to be a hard one. She walked along the long adjoining corridor, with its stained-glass window bearing the coat of arms of the Ingfield family upon it, and hesitated at the top of the stairs. Ingfield House, it was true, was a lovely home and she had been lucky to inherit it from her Aunt Dora, although that had only been by default, as Dora had died without making a will, leaving Isabelle – the closest and only traceable heir – to inherit all that was now around her.

She sighed; the shop in Skipton, a property and business in the Queens Arcade in Leeds and a rented shop in Bradford’s Foster Square she already knew were hers, as they were in her joint name with her mother. But the place she loved was Windfell, and her heart was yearning to own it. She felt her lip tremble and her eyes started to fill with tears. She broke down as she turned back towards her bedroom, sobbing uncontrollably as she met James on the landing.

‘Hey now, enough of this. Your mother was a good woman. She loved you; she will have done right by you. Have patience and wait until you hear what the solicitor has to say.’ James knew Isabelle had set her heart on the family home, and he knew how much it was hurting her to realize that possibly it was not going to be hers for the foreseeable future.