It was not even as if the decision to marry Sir Edward was anything other than straightforward. The proposal might have come as a shock, but it had also come at just the right moment. The catastrophe of her thirtieth birthday was not so very distant; one could hardly rely on another suitor discovering one before the event, and then after it … well, one might as well surrender all hope. Contented though she was, and much as she loathed all changes, Fanny would like one day to know what it was to be a wife and a mother in control of her own home, and not only and forever the single daughter of one’s dear papa.

Furthermore, as an arrangement it was, if not a complete triumph, at least socially and economically sound. Fanny would be Lady Knatchbull – a promotion not to be sneezed at – in a mansion superior to her family’s own. So the case for the union was really quite overwhelming.

Be that as it may, she was also keen to create the impression that the match was something more than the dramatic, last-minute rescue of a desperate spinster who could hardly say no. The world was already more than aware that there had been no courtship to speak of. If it were also to learn that she accepted at once, then face might be lost. Before the happy ending was announced, she had felt the need to put on an extravagant display of great indecision. Those around must be seen to persuade her. Fanny Knight was – at last – a young lady with a new proposal in her hand and she meant to enjoy it.

It had been a long while since she had found herself in this situation. Indeed, dear Aunt Jane had still been alive then, and they had worried away at the issues together. Such a happy time! The letters had flown between them: Fanny begging for guidance (should she or shouldn’t she?); Aunt Jane returning with wise, loving counsel (but did he deserve her?). When it became clear that the young man in question had some other girl in his sights – was never, it transpired, even that keen on Fanny – the correspondence had rather petered out. Such a pity, when aunt and niece had been having such fun.

But she still remembered those few weeks of earnest romantic discussions with great fondness and it was perhaps in an attempt to recapture that earlier pleasure that Fanny fancied, for once in her life, to create a little drama. After all, once one was married, it seemed, one rarely got any attention ever again. So she had chosen a large straw hat from the shelf in the boot room and set out into the garden, where she intended to walk up and down with an anguished expression until somebody noticed her.