‘I don’t ask for much. But I just wanted Windfell. It’s right that Danny and Archie have Crummock, but I had my heart set on Windfell!’ She hid her face in James’s jacket, crying relentlessly as she remembered the days she had shared with her mother in her old home. How she missed both. Her mother was gone forever, and it had just hit her that she would never hear her voice and feel her kisses again. But she knew she would remember Charlotte every day if she lived at Windfell and spent her life alongside the spirit of her mother, which filled every nook and corner of the manor.

Danny sat across from his father and watched him as he finished his late, leisurely breakfast.

‘Are you alright this morning, Father? You looked tired last night, that is why I left you early.’ He watched as Archie drew breath between his two rashers of bacon – the same breakfast he’d eaten for as long as Danny could remember.

‘Aye, I’m alright; you have to be, haven’t you, lad? Moping about is not going to bring her back, no matter how much I miss her. Lottie was an exceptional woman, and I only hope Isabelle will take a leaf or two out of her book.’ Archie sipped his tea and looked across at his son. ‘Isabelle can be spiteful sometimes. She’s expecting to inherit everything, and I don’t like that.’ He stirred his tea and noticed the puzzlement on his son’s face. ‘Lottie has left Windfell to Isabelle, but only after my day – or until I feel I want to leave it. She’ll find out this afternoon; Charles Walker will tell her.’ Archie grinned. He loved Isabelle, but she had a lot of her true father in her, and he had ignored her prying at the funeral into what was to become of Windfell.

Danny sat back and looked at his father, who was a devil for keeping things to himself when he thought it was for the best.

‘Anyway there’s something I want you to ask Harriet, and I’ve something else to tell you – something I think you should know.’ Archie’s face clouded over.

‘Go on then, Father, tell me your worst.’ Danny waited.

‘Nay, we’ll go into the study. Give the servants the chance to clear my breakfast away.’ Archie looked at his one place setting on the large mahogany dining table, remembering that there used to be up to six places set most mornings, not that long ago. He rose from his chair and walked across to the study, Danny following behind him. ‘Shut the door, lad. I don’t want anyone to listen in.’

Danny sat down in the chair that Charlotte had loved so much, noticing the tapestry down by the side of the chair that had never been finished by her, and never would be now.