‘How generous of you, Squire.’ Eleanora took a glass of sherry from the silver tray proffered by Molesworth. ‘This is so delightful, don’t you think so, Daisy?’

Daisy took a large mouthful of her drink and swallowed hard. She could feel the warming effect of the alcohol as it reached her stomach. Perhaps, given enough wine, she might make it through the evening, but if the squire continued to inch closer, pushing her even further into the corner of the sofa, she would forget that she was a lady and slap his smiling face. She gazed down in horror as he walked his fingers across the folds of her skirt and laid his hand on her knee.

‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll sit in a chair,’ she said, leaping to her feet. ‘I find it rather warm in here.’

The evening dragged on, relieved only by a delicious meal served in the huge banqueting hall where the long refectory table would have seated thirty people in comfort. It seemed strange to be the only guests present, but the squire made up for lack of company with a monologue listing all his achievements, which were all money orientated and designed to show how he had restored the failing fortunes of his family. Daisy was tempted to rise to her feet and tell him what she thought of a landlord who allowed his properties to fall into disrepair while charging exorbitant rents to his tenants. Somehow she managed to restrain herself, but she could see that her aunt was impressed and Uncle Sidney nodded in agreement at some of the squire’s comments on running an estate like a business. In Daisy’s opinion the squire was boasting like a small boy who was out to impress, though as far as she was concerned, he failed.

‘We will forgo the brandy and cigars as there is no hostess to entertain the ladies,’ Squire Tattersall announced at the end of the meal. ‘Instead I suggest a tour of the old house. It dates back to the fifteenth century in parts, and has had quite a history, although I won’t bore you with details.’ He rose to his feet and walked round the table to proffer his arm to Daisy. ‘Will you allow me to escort you, Miss Marshall?’

She looked anxiously at her aunt, who, being the senior woman present, should have been the one to receive such attention from her host, but Eleanora seemed happy with the arrangement and she smiled, nodding her assent. Reluctantly, Daisy rose to her feet, wishing wholeheartedly that the evening would soon come to an end. The squire had been giving her covert looks during the meal and had smiled ingratiatingly when he caught her eye. It was embarrassing to have a middle-aged man making eyes at her like a love-struck youth. There was no way out now and she managed a shadow of a smile as she laid her hand on his arm.

‘We will follow you,’ Eleanora said eagerly. ‘But we might not be able to keep up with you young people.’