‘No,’ his grandfather agreed, not seeming too overly distressed. ‘You wouldn’t. Which is why I have never made any such plans—and don’t intend making them.’

Paul looked across at him. ‘And you’re not annoyed at the thought of me ducking out of Oxford?’

‘Not if you’ve carefully thought it through. How had you planned to subsist, though, as a rose-breeder? It’s a long-term occupation, isn’t it? You’ll have no financial return for years.’

‘Probably not, but I don’t have to worry about a roof over my head. Shuttleworth Hall is my home for as long as I want it to be. Aunt Vicky made that clear from day one. Naturally, though, I shan’t want to live on her and Great-uncle Arthur’s generosity and I thought I’d hire out as a general gardener.’

His grandfather made an explosive snorting sound and when he could trust himself to speak said vehemently, ‘A rose-breeder I’ll just about accept, but no grandson of mine becomes a jobbing gardener!’

Paul winced. ‘It would only be until I’d established a name for myself as a breeder,’ he said defensively, ‘and it would be a necessity. I receive nothing from my father’s will until I’m thirty.’

‘I’m aware of that, my boy.’

The road was following a curve in the river and Charles looked at the view appreciatively and then said, ‘The main reason for my visit is to tell you I’ve cut your mother out of my will and have made you my heir. There will be something for my Remer grandchildren, of course, but as your mother seems determined to bring them up as if they had no American blood whatsoever, the amounts will reflect that circumstance. I feel fit and dandy enough to last for at least another couple of decades, so you won’t be a wealthy man tomorrow, but you will always be able to draw down on some of what is coming to you. I’ve specifically arranged that. And now let’s change the subject. What changes are there at Shuttleworth Hall?’

‘The main one is that Josephine has married a local man and has a home of her own in Little Ridding. She still helps out with the cooking, though.’ He flashed his grandfather a grin. ‘There’ll be curd tarts for tea, just as always.’

Only much later that day was Paul sufficiently over the shock to be able to think straight and to say, ‘I know you don’t want to talk further about making me your heir, Grandfather, but there are questions I need to ask, things I need to know.’

It was mid-evening and dinner had not yet been served. Nancy, Ilse, Lotti and Lotti’s friend, Hester, had had supper and were enjoying a last half-hour before bedtime, playing a riotous game of ‘tag’ on the lawn. Claus was down by the river. Max and Hugo were seated at a garden table on the terrace and playing chess, watched by Berthold. Vicky was nowhere in sight and Arthur Hudson was in the drawing room, enjoying a pre-prandial whisky and soda.