No wonder poor Mary seemed so … unnatural! ‘Sir Edward,’ Fanny began, gingerly. ‘Might I suggest—’ She broke off. It was crucial she did not cross the line. ‘Well, it suddenly occurred: should Mary come home … after … soon?’ She was simply too bashful to say the words when we are married, though that was her meaning. ‘Of course, there is no need to decide now. However, my younger sisters are delightful young girls and—’

But Sir Edward seemed to have decided already. ‘Capital idea!’ In fact, had he decided some time ago? ‘I took the liberty of enquiring and was told you have a sound schoolroom at Godmersham. The girls can all be taught and raised together. Mary will be delighted.’

So Fanny had said the right thing! The couple were of the same mind! She looked across to the parched Kentish hills and, for the first time, felt the small frisson that comes with wifely satisfaction. It was rather agreeable.

‘As for the boys, madam, they should not trouble you much.’ They were out now and on to the Ashford road. Due to the heat, there were no others around. ‘For they must be educated out of the home. There is no other option.’

‘Poor dears!’ Fanny let go with her instant reaction; then, seeing the expression on the profile of her betrothed, she added: ‘Of course, I have no quarrel with the decision, sir. It is just that I should have hated to go myself, and I can only feel for my brothers as we are packing their trunks.’

Sir Edward relaxed a little, smiled and patted the back of her gloved hand. ‘That reveals within you a great reserve of kindness, Miss Knight, which is a pleasure to witness. And of course you are right. School can be a harsh environment for a boy and I know very well that my eldest son, Norton, suffers tremendously.’

‘Then I am sorry for him,’ said Fanny, with feeling.

‘Now, now, my dear,’ he admonished. ‘’Tis best not to feel sorry for boys. Does them no good at all. I was three years of age when my own mother died and, from that day on, knew not a moment of sympathy. Civility, yes; sympathy, no. And, madam, I am here to tell you that now I am glad of it! Grateful indeed. For it can hardly be said that it has held me back in life.’

Fanny struggled for a moment, and then took refuge in another question. ‘So your own schooldays were not happy ones, sir?’

‘Happy?’ Sir Edward repeated the word as if he were sampling a new dish. ‘No, I hardly think so but nor was that their aim, surely? I do, however, carry the burden of profound regret for the unfortunate manner of their ending.’

‘It distressed you to leave, then?’