There was still another half hour before the midday bell would summon them to luncheon, and Justin decided to take a turn in the rose garden and give serious consideration to his father’s question. When, if ever, was he going to propose to Kitty Blake?

Justin knew that both sets of parents wanted him and Kitty to get married and, he supposed, they probably would. There would be small chance of escape. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Kitty, he did and always had, but marrying her would feel a bit like marrying his sister, Frances.

All right for Rupert to sow his oats and then walk away, he thought bitterly as he felt a stab of envy. As the younger son he’s got no responsibilities. It’s not up to him to increase the family estates, nor to provide an heir to inherit them! Lucky Rupert – within reason he can marry whom he likes, when he likes, and live where he likes. This last thought brought a smile to Justin’s face as he tried to imagine his brother ever settling down with a wife. Rupert had always enjoyed the company of women, but had always worked on the principle that there was safety in numbers. Rupert, Justin had long ago decided, would end up a crusty old bachelor, perhaps an indulgent uncle to his brother and sister’s children, but never marry and have any of his own – or none, Justin thought wryly, that he could bring home to Pilgrim’s Oak. Whereas Justin had always known that he was to become the next Chalfont baronet. He’d been brought up as the heir and certain things were expected of him, like producing an heir himself. When his father died he would be Sir Justin Chalfont, and with this in prospect, he was extremely eligible in the marriage market. Well and good in some ways, he thought wryly, but it limited his own choice of bride, and though several hopeful mamas had edged their daughters in his direction, none of them had taken his fancy. He knew he would have to propose to Kitty soon, or make it abundantly clear that he had no intention of doing so. After such a long ‘family understanding’, quite apart from being a huge blow to her pride, it would hurt Kitty deeply, and that he had no wish to do.

He turned back towards the house and paused to look at it, sleeping in the midday sun. Built by his great-great-grandfather, it was an elegant stone house, three storeys high with tall chimneys, pointed gables and mullioned windows.

Seeing its dusky mellow stonework, its windows glinting in the summer sunshine, it struck Justin just how beautiful the house was, and he realised that he didn’t envy Rupert all his freedoms at all, because Pilgrim’s Oak would never be his. It had been their family’s home for five generations and Justin suddenly knew he could never be happy living anywhere else.

He squared his shoulders and went back indoors. The old man was right. Procrastination must end; it was time to act. He would ride over to Marwick House after luncheon and call on Kitty. He already had his grandmother’s engagement ring, designed to be given to his future bride. Perhaps, if things went well, today he would give it to Kitty.