‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Daisy held her head high as she walked up the steps with Linnet close behind.

‘I was passing and I decided to call upon the squire. Is he at home?’ Daisy said boldly. She took a gilt-edged visiting card from her reticule and handed it to the butler. It was one of Mrs Carrington’s that Daisy had used when ordering items for her employer, and she waited, hardly daring to breathe.

‘If you would care to wait, I’ll see if the master is at home.’ Molesworth ushered them into the entrance hall and the footman stood to attention while his superior walked off at a stately pace.

Daisy wondered if anyone ever hurried in the countryside. Inwardly she was quaking, but she managed to maintain an outward show of unconcern. Linnet was pale but she waited demurely at Daisy’s side, saying nothing. There was a distinct chill in the air, which was not entirely due to the weather and Daisy could feel the figures in the portraits gazing down from their gilt frames. She could imagine their disapproval even though they had been dead and buried for a couple of centuries. A suit of armour at the far end of the hall looked even more menacing and she dared not look at the footman, who was eyeing her suspiciously. If the Carringtons’ servants were anything to go by, those who worked below stairs had an uncanny knack of detecting a parvenu. She made a determined effort to remain calm and eventually Molesworth reappeared.

‘Would you come this way, Mrs Carrington?’ He glared at Linnet, who was about to follow Daisy. ‘Wait there, if you please.’

‘And what if I don’t please?’ Linnet said angrily. ‘I’m here to look after my mistress.’

‘It’s all right.’ Daisy gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I won’t be long.’ She braced herself to follow the butler through a maze of gloomy oak-panelled corridors, and he ushered her into a room overlooking the rear of the building. The book-lined walls and leather-covered armchairs would not have been out of place in a gentlemen’s club, and a large mahogany desk placed centrally was the dominant feature. A tall, well-built man dressed in tweeds rose from behind his desk.

‘Will there be anything else, sir?’

‘No, I’ll ring when I need you, Molesworth.’ Esmond Tattersall looked Daisy up and down as if she were an entry in a cattle show.

‘Very good, sir.’ The butler bowed out as if in the presence of royalty.

‘Mrs Carrington?’ The squire’s weather-beaten features were set in a frown as he turned his attention to the deckle-edged card. ‘Do I know you, ma’am?’

‘I have to confess that I’m not Mrs Carrington,’ Daisy said, smiling. ‘But I hope to have that title very soon.’ She peeled off her gloves and held out her left hand, displaying the diamond ring that Julian had given her as a pledge of his love. ‘My fiancé is Julian Carrington, who is at present in Paris, having just taken up a post in the diplomatic corps.’