‘It is on this very matter of girls in the schoolroom – the number of girls, that is.’ Marianne smiled prettily. ‘Of course I would be happy to look after Louisa and Cassy – that is, if I am still here myself.’

Funny girl! Where on earth did she think she might be? ‘And you shall do so splendidly, I’m sure of it.’ Fanny did like to encourage wherever possible.

‘Certainly until I am properly out – remember? – and my situation is changed,’ Marianne shot back.

‘Of course! Do not think I have forgotten my promise.’ Fanny smiled, though she had forgotten it completely.

‘Thank you, dearest. Now, to return to the girls.’ Her eyes twinkled with the hint of an affection which her voice did not betray. ‘I am happy to take them on while I can. After all, they are my sisters! Mary Dorothea, however, is not.’

Fanny jumped back as if scalded.

Marianne continued. ‘You say the three girls are to be taught together, even once you are wed. But, Fan, what does that mean exactly and have you discussed it with them? Do you intend to remove my sisters from their family home, here?’ Her tone was one of genuine, concerned enquiry. ‘Or Mary Dorothea from her own?’

As she had not quite thought all that through – was it not, now she remembered it, all Sir Edward’s idea? – Fanny struggled to answer.

‘Perhaps you might let me know when the matter is settled, as your decision will, naturally, have a significant effect upon us all.’ Marianne opened the door then herself. ‘Let us go in.’ And swished into the schoolroom.

Fanny stood in the entrance, studied the girls at the table – heads bent over bibles – and pondered. It appeared that, unless she was madly mistaken, she had just received a significant reprimand. And from Marianne, of all people. She would like to be able to bristle with rage at the cheek of it, but the truth was it was quite well deserved.

Since the day she arrived in Godmersham, Mary Dorothea had received exquisite care – cook, governess and, she had to presume, all the Knight girls had made every effort to put the child at her ease. And with one maid in particular – dear Booker: a nice enough girl – Mary had formed a very strong bond, or so it was said. Yet, for some reason, Fanny – so famously good with children of all types and ages – felt some resistance to this girl in particular, which she was struggling to overcome.

What was it about her exactly? Mary Dorothea presented no difficulties and her behaviour was never less than impeccable. Fanny had been given no reason at all to dislike the poor child, but still she found herself going to some lengths to avoid her.