He rose, stopped and, for a moment, stared out to the middle distance and plunged deep into thought. ‘Must say, old Fan – quite entre nous, of course – I do find it all just a tiny bit odd. If Marianne really wants this Billington of hers, should she not have him? But then perhaps one is simply more of a live-and-let-live sort of fellow.’ Ned gave a twist to his mouth and a shrug.

‘Not that anyone has asked my advice, nor am I particularly minded to give it, but seems to me there’s only one possible move left in the game, and that is elopement. The young get their own way and the old have no choice but to get on with it, eh?

‘Ah, well.’ He snapped out of his musings and back to his natural ebullience. ‘No doubt all will work out in the end.

‘Tally ho, then, dear Knatchbulls, and back to the battlements.’ And, remembering to give a brisk bow, Ned took his leave.

Stunned, Fanny rose from the sofa, went to the window and watched his departure. Elopement? How could Ned throw that out in such a casual fashion when the very word brought her out in a rash? Once the gig had taken to the gravel and left her vision, she turned to her husband.

‘Sir Edward.’ She went to his side, and slipped her hand into his.

Her husband grunted.

‘My darling. Though most reluctant to exploit your excellent nature—’

‘No need, my dear.’ Sir Edward raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘Our families are as one now. Our interests align.’ He strode to the bell and rang for a servant. ‘A spot of cold mutton and then I shall call on your dear father. I am quite sure that, between us, we can make the girl see some sense.’

‘And if not?’

‘There was a similar sort of business with a sister of mine a few years ago, and I must say that my late father – with whom, as you know, I did not generally see eye to eye – dealt with it admirably. The girl was simply closely guarded by maids, day and night, until the supposed passion abated, as all passion must. I shall be urging your own father to adopt similar measures.’

‘Oh, Sir Edward,’ breathed Fanny, feeling quite overcome. For – truly! – how lucky she was. Marianne might be ‘in love’ – or think herself so, silly creature – but Fanny already had the most excellent husband. One of those serious, solid sorts of husband who not only had all their best interests at heart but also pursued them, with vigour. In that moment, her own heart was brimful.