As they’d come to the end of the downstairs rooms, she suggested they sit down on the long bench at the back of the music room, something she always did. She loved this room. She didn’t realise he was watching her with a half-smile on his lips until she turned to say something. The words died unspoken.

‘No need to hurry,’ he said gently. ‘I’m enjoying it here, too. It must have looked magnificent in the old days, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you like to have seen it full of the nobility in silks and satins?’

‘Yes.’ Which showed they were in tune about some things, she thought. Well, they’d been in tune all morning. She couldn’t remember when she’d last enjoyed herself so much.

Afterwards, they went up to the café and sat out on the terrace, looking down over the gardens. The sun was shining, making his dark hair gleam and she could sense that he too was feeling relaxed and happy.

Their eyes met and he gave her one of his devastating smiles. ‘I love the way you don’t fill every minute with idle chatter.’

‘I’m useless with small talk,’ she admitted. ‘Never could get the hang of it.’

‘That suits me fine. I’ve endured a surfeit of it over the years.’

For a moment his hand lay over hers, then he moved it away.

She felt like grabbing it, holding on to it. She didn’t dare allow herself to do that. All she allowed herself was another half-smile at him.

In the afternoon they drove along the coast to Beachy Head because her ankle was aching now and of course he’d noticed. They sat in the car park looking out over the Channel.

‘I’ve never crossed it,’ she said, thinking aloud. ‘You’d think in this day and age I’d at least have been to Paris, wouldn’t you?’

‘Why haven’t you?’

‘When I was a child I used to get travel sick. After my parents died, I was afraid of flying, afraid of going anywhere, really. Only Upper Shenstead seemed safe. Later Sarah and I went to work in London, but I was homesick for the country and she missed Don, so we came back after a few months. And since then, well, I haven’t got round to travelling, somehow.’

After a thoughtful pause, she added, ‘I don’t really like living in cities.’

‘I’ve had my fill of them, I must admit.’

‘You must think I’m a fool,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ve been nowhere, done nothing.’

‘I’ve been nearly everywhere, but not for my own purposes usually, so I’ve done few of the things I wanted to when I was young. Most people seem to settle for a lot less in life than their youthful dreams, don’t they?’