‘What a surprise, Darcy. And Helen too. Come and sit down, won’t you?’ She patted the sofa cushion beside her, looking at Helen as if she had no idea who this intruder could be. Her ladyship was perfectly coiffed and manicured, and dressed in a grey pleated dress with about a hundred tiny covered buttons. Helen felt shabby, and hot, and awkward as she crossed the pale green carpet.

Darcy’s father shook his heavy handsome head. ‘What is all this? I should be at Cheltenham.’

Darcy didn’t hesitate. Only Helen heard the tremor in his voice. ‘Helen and I are going to be married.’ He lifted Helen’s left hand, keeping it tightly clasped in his, to show them the ring. Incongruously, she felt like a winning prize fighter and had to suppress a wild desire to laugh. A shocked silence spread across the room. The spaniel stirred and sighed in its sleep, the silky fur rippling.

Lady Montcalm said, ‘Darling, I had no idea you were so romantic.’

The silence deepened, and Helen wished that she could be anywhere else in the world except where she sat now. But her fear was beginning to ebb away. It was replaced by shame for Darcy for his parents, and a determination to love and support him where they had so clearly failed.

Lord Montcalm said, ‘This is very sudden.’ His manner showed a stupid man’s embarrassed reluctance to confront real feelings.

‘It’s not sudden at all,’ Darcy answered. He seemed more than ever the stubborn schoolboy, and Helen defensively longed for him to reveal more of the real Darcy that she herself knew.

Lady Montcalm laughed, a light, pretty laugh. ‘This is lovely. I’m so pleased for you both, but you must forgive us for being a little surprised.’ She stretched her hand out to Helen’s. ‘The ring, too. What slender little hands you have. Half the size of mine, and I remember thinking how huge the ring was when Aubrey produced it for me. The ruby is much too heavy, Darcy. Couldn’t we find something more suitable for Helen? A pretty diamond?’

‘No, Mother. I want Helen to wear the proper ring.’

There was another tiny silence. Lord Montcalm looked at his watch.

‘This all seems perfectly suitable. There’s a great deal to discuss, arrangements and so forth, but I think that can wait. Jane?’

His wife was precise. ‘Yes. I think it can wait.’

‘In that case, I’ll be off. The stewards are expecting me.’ Lord Montcalm held out his hand to his son. ‘Congratulations, old boy.’ And then, to Helen, ‘He’s a good chap. I’m sure he’ll make you happy.’ He leaned towards her and almost kissed her cheek. Helen understood that Lord Montcalm had no particular objection to her. She was, at least, not quite blatantly unsuitable. Her future father-in-law was too intent on his afternoon’s racing to disturb himself any further.