Though he might not be the romantic ideal exactly, Sir Edward was a pleasant-enough-looking gentleman which Fanny, in her new joy and relief, decided was anyway much preferable to heroic when it came to husbands in general. Blue eyes twinkled back at her as she took in his round face and features. Despite the white at his temples, the beholder could still see the sweet small boy he once was. As a couple, the physical qualities of each seemed to complement the other. Fanny was spare, lean, long of feature and limb; Sir Edward, with his plump torso and full, ruddy cheeks, appeared as if nature had designed him as a hymn to the circle. He did, though, have the edge on her when it came to their height. Not much, perhaps not even an inch, but still Fanny delighted to see it. As an unusually tall girl, she had always lived with that fear …

‘Miss Knight,’ he said, again.

‘Sir Edward,’ she repeated.

And then he declared. The words that he spoke were no different to the ones he had written two days before. Fanny rather admired the economy. After all, he must have thought long and hard, chosen them with care in the first place. Why not use them again? It was really rather touching. Once more, he referred to his own happiness and the welfare of his children. He offered his ‘most unremitting and constant attention’. But this time, it came with the all-important addition: ‘Miss Knight, I would be most honoured if you would consent to be my wife.’

Of course, she accepted. Sir Edward gave a brief nod, a small smile, then made to bend his head towards Fanny, his mouth to hers. The air left the room. Fanny’s heart stopped. Her whole body froze, screaming resistance. Stung, her fiancé drew back before he could touch her. The moment was lost ere it had begun. All that remained was Fanny’s deep sense of shame.

It had been Fanny’s idea to go out in the gig. Though they were now officially betrothed, her awkward shyness had not abated. Worse, it had proved contagious. The orphaned kiss lurked about them, full of reproach. Even the worldly Sir Edward seemed unsure where to look.

But that was the beauty of driving. Sir Edward himself took the reins; his fiancée sat beside him twirling her parasol: each fixed their gaze on the road ahead. It then occurred to Fanny that, thus uninhibited, any other engaged couple might thrill at the opportunities now afforded them. They would – what would they do? Gently touch, she supposed; discreetly make love; share any and all of the heart’s hidden secrets. Oh, may the Good Lord protect her from so dreadful a prospect! Surely he would not now presume …? She silently prayed: God, deliver us into good, plain conversation – on the subject of education perhaps, or the church …