‘Welcome, my precious!’ Her great-aunt trilled in a manner quite close to coquettish. ‘Do come in and join us.’

Mary sat, as she was bidden, in the place beside Ned while their hostess remained at some distance.

‘I have been regaled by tales of the exploits of the Godmersham family. How we have laughed, have we not, Mr Knight?’ Lady Banks was chuckling still. ‘Highland jigs in costume! Governesses – of all people – putting on unsuitable plays and getting dismissed for it! I must say it sounds like a permanent r-r-riot. How on earth our good Lady Knatchbull came out quite so very pious must remain one of the great mysteries.

‘Dear, oh dear.’ She dabbed at her eyes and, in so doing, smeared coal around her forehead. ‘You are naughty, sir, for a lady of my years cannot take too much diversion. One is simply not used to it.’

And with no further discussion, Lady Banks sank down, as if into a sleep.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Knight.’ Mary spoke softly and smiled. ‘This is most odd, for when were we last able to speak freely indoors?’

‘Ha! You make a fair point, madam. There was that one occasion, on New Year’s Eve, if I recall …’ Ned gave that dear crooked grin and, with an eye on their chaperone, took her hand in his.

The sensation was delicious. Mary felt her breath start to quaver.

‘But otherwise, never. Indeed, there is due cause for concern,’ he went on, quite smoothly, while tracing a circle on her wrist with his finger, ‘that our relationship might be like one of those species – a philadelphus, or some such – that thrives in the garden but once transplanted indoors, wilts and collapses.’

Mary could quite see herself wilting – could imagine the many ways in which he might cause her to do it, though such wickedness should be resisted. But the collapse of a passion such as theirs? It was surely impossible.

‘The first time I entered the Great House at Chawton, I at once felt it had a particularly’ – she searched for the word – ‘fertile sort of air.’

‘Is that so, madam?’ Now, the tip of that finger was slowly drawing a line to the inside of her elbow. ‘A theory that must be tested, I think. It is many years since it has been home to a young married couple.’

Lady Banks stirred in her sleep then. Alarmed at her own wanton behaviour – for somehow she was leaning towards him, face close to his – Mary wrenched her hand away and so shattered the spell.