Bartholomew sat across the room from Kerensa. He looked all round her sitting room and Kerensa fancied he was thinking that his mother should have lived in similar surroundings. The tall windows were opened wide and the heady scents of spring flowers refreshingly invaded the room on the warm tingling-fresh air. His eyes flicked from pictures to portraits, ornaments to vases of flowers, mantelpiece to curtains, carpets to ceiling, furniture to the sewing she’d put aside.

‘I’d be happy to show you over the house when we’ve discussed the reason for your visit, Bartholomew,’ she said, bringing him out of his reverie.

‘I’d like to see over it very much,’ he replied. ‘It’s something I’ve always wanted to do, but I don’t want you getting tired climbing lots of stairs and walking along long corridors.’

‘Because I’m going to have a baby?’ Kerensa smiled.

‘Aye,’ he lowered his head shyly, his blunt, selfish attitude showing its decline since the time she’d slapped his face on Perranbarvah’s beach, ‘but I didn’t like to mention it.’

‘I can manage, don’t you worry, but if I tire I’ll ask Polly to show you what you might miss.’

‘I’m going to live in a house like this one day,’ Bartholomew declared, looking up at the high ornate plaster ceiling and spreading his big hands to encapsulate the whole building.

‘I’m sure you will, Bartholomew,’ Kerensa told him sincerely.

‘’Tis not just a dream,’ he emphasised. ‘One day it will be a reality and I shall invite you and Sir Oliver to dine with me – if you will do me the honour.’

‘I will look forward to it.’

The dark Pengarron eyes were bright and alive. Kerensa thought he should be captured in just this way on canvas and the portrait deservedly hung in its place beside the one painted of Oliver three years ago to mark his fortieth birthday.

‘If someone wants something badly enough they usually find a way to achieve it. Of course, how you go about it is a different matter altogether.’

Bartholomew smiled mysteriously. ‘You need have no worry on that score. You see, fate has been kind to the Drannocks at last.’ He paused to gain maximum pleasure before he relieved Kerensa of her burning curiosity. ‘I’ve come into some money – rather, I’ve come into a lot of money, an inheritance, in fact!’

Kerensa resisted the impulse to fly across the room and take Bartholomew by both hands and dance him round the room but she could not hide the excitement in her voice.

‘Oh Bartholomew! I’m so pleased for you, that’s really wonderful news. I could cry with happiness for you.’

‘Well, I have cried,’ he said proudly, ‘and I’m not ashamed to admit it.’