‘Indeed, sir,’ said Rupert, readying himself to speak of Hélène, but his father completely took the wind out of his sails by continuing, ‘You can see for yourself, Rupert, that I’m not very long for this world. I have the wasting sickness.’

‘Papa—’ exclaimed Rupert, but Sir Philip simply waved him to silence.

‘Just like my own father. It must be obvious to anyone who knows me. I have been to see Dr Evans and he has confirmed that it’s just a matter of time and there is nothing to be done.’

‘But we must have a second opinion!’ cried Rupert. ‘You must see someone in London.’

‘Indeed,’ replied his father, ‘and I have. Not long ago I went up to town for a few days, and while I was there, I took the opportunity of consulting Mr Ernest Young in Harley Street. He was of the same opinion as Dr Evans. The condition is fairly well advanced and there is no cure. Mr Young gave me about six months to live, but said that was only a guess based on previous cases he’d treated.’

‘Have you told Mama?’ asked Rupert quietly. ‘Or Fran?’

‘No, not yet. There is no point in alarming your mother at this stage. Since Justin’s death I fear for her sanity; I won’t put anything further on her. As for Frances, she’s been a tower of strength to me over the past days, and I’m loath to ask any more of her.’

‘I think she already knows, sir,’ said Rupert. ‘She has seen for herself.’

‘Has she? Then I’m sorry. She’s had too much to bear. I just thank God you’re home at last and can take the weight from her shoulders… and mine.’

‘Did Justin know?’

‘He guessed and I admitted it to him just before he died. He began to deal with estate matters at once.’

‘I shall try to do the same, sir,’ Rupert said. ‘I have an appointment with Foxton later this afternoon to discuss how things are on the estate. Fran told me that Justin had already been dealing with some of the estate business, and I need to be brought up to date with the state of things.’

‘Justin was setting his hand to the plough,’ agreed Sir Philip, ‘and now it’s up to you. At least there’s nothing to keep you away from home these days, and while I’m still here we can make plans for the future together.’

Rupert looked across at his father, so suddenly small, but still with fire in his eyes. How could he tell him that there was something, or rather someone, to take him away from Pilgrim’s Oak, at least in the short term? How could he tell him about his engagement to Hélène? And yet he must, because she was part of the future they were going to discuss.

‘I shall be very grateful for your advice, sir,’ he began. ‘I know that Foxton is an experienced man, but you have been living here at Pilgrim’s Oak all your life. There’s no one with a greater knowledge of the place than you. However, there is one piece of news that I need to share with you, and I hope you will be pleased when you hear it…’ Rupert paused, seeking the right words to tell his father about Hélène. In the end it seemed that simply to tell him would be the easiest way for them both.