Mr Knight had returned. He was standing right there before her. But before either could speak, a great, shaggy dog bounded up the stairs, barrelled into Mary and rubbed his head in her hands, as if they were old friends. She bent down to pet him – it was a fine opportunity to hide her own blushing face and, anyway, he was rather a dear – while his owner let out a great laugh.

‘So burglar it is!’

Though Mary was mortified, Mr Knight was, at least, amusing himself. ‘I am proud to say that Lord Byron is not one of the world’s more promising guard dogs. Far too noble a beast for so lowly a role. Any intruder would be in danger of being licked half to death.’

He was now begging her mercy, while his face – chiselled and fine; honeyed bronze rather than ruddy – cracked into a smile. ‘Pray do forgive me,’ he pleaded. ‘I have had the pleasure and my manners are woeful. Miss Knatchbull, is it not? I had heard you were come to stay for a while. Enchanted.’

He tipped into a bow; Mary managed a nod.

‘And yet, if I may, you seem somewhat at a loose end? Now, if it pleases you, do say where you should be and I will escort you.’

As if she could say a word!

He smiled, shrugged and went on. ‘I was led to believe you are being taught with my youngest sisters but – if you will permit me the wildest of guesses – they have gone “missing”. Might I be warm?’ His voice softened. ‘Miss Knatchbull, I do know the feeling. They would treat me ill, too, if I did not box their ears on a regular basis. Come, let us find them together.’

Mr Knight turned back to the staircase, began to climb the next flight and bade that she follow him. The dog stayed at her heels, as if she were his mistress. ‘As you know, your father and brother came to stay with me a few weeks back.’ He spoke over his shoulder as she and Lord Byron trotted behind. ‘I very much enjoyed meeting Norton.’

Mary privately noted that her father’s name was not mentioned – favourably or otherwise.

‘Have you heard from him since he started at Winchester? I hope he is getting on well, though – as an old College man myself – I can quite see that might not be the case.’

A pause, in which Mary might have confided her brother’s weekly accounts of his increasing misery. Of course she did not.

‘Please know that my house at Chawton is but a short distance from there.’ They were now up on the attic corridor, where Mr Knight proceeded to fling open one door and finding no one at home, march on to the next. ‘I will endeavour to keep an eye on him when I can.’