Fanny not only loved the atmosphere of the family home, she also took pride in it, which she was entitled to do. After all, it was, in the most part, her own creation, she having been the de facto lady of the house for so many years. This first dinner was, to her mind, her great opportunity to display the sort of relaxed conviviality that was her hallmark. Sir Edward would love her, his children might warm to her and, it was hoped, the bond between the two families would start to grow.

As the footmen moved around the table with the meat and fish, Fanny waited for one of her siblings to start up with some harmless prattle. Who would be first, she wondered, while selecting a delicate pink slice of salmon. Her brother, George, with some apocryphal Oxford lark, or Lizzie on the genius of her firstborn?

In fact, it was Sir Edward: ‘An affectionate, large family around a large table is an excellent sight, I must say. One I hope we will recreate when we are established, my dear?’

Fanny preened and nodded. Not only had he noticed, he had appreciated! Her fiancé was a fine man indeed.

Her father, though, looked a little confused. ‘You come from a great family yourself, Sir Edward, do you not?’

‘We have the numbers, that is certainly true,’ Sir Edward conceded. ‘Harmony, however, has proven to be quite elusive.’ He speared a great side of beef. ‘Sadly, I did not enjoy good terms with my father, nor with the lady who is now his widow. And alas, also one or two of my brothers – four at a pinch – are not always the easiest company.’ He picked up his cutlery and set to his plate. ‘I find it simplest to have nothing to do with them.’ Despite so much misfortune, Fanny could not help but notice his appetite was robust.

‘Then I am sorry for it,’ said Mr Austen Knight, with great feeling, ‘and for the great unease such a fissure must cause you.’ At the very thought of it, his kind face was cross-stitched with pain. ‘Were I so afflicted, I cannot imagine ever enjoying even a moment’s contentment.’

Sir Edward held up a finger while he cleared a particularly large mouthful. ‘It could be distressing, if I so let it.’ He swallowed. ‘But having thought long and hard about each particular circumstance’ – he dabbed napkin to chin – ‘I can feel secure in the knowledge that, in every instance, Right has been on my own side.’

Despite the heat of the day, Fanny felt a sudden chill in the dining room. Goosebumps appeared on her bare arms. She beckoned a servant and bade him close all the windows, by which time Sir Edward had changed the conversational subject. Rather like a general inspecting his troops, he had begun to make his way around the table, with the clear intention of slowly – very, very slowly – interviewing each diner.