With a sigh she put the thoughts to the back of her mind. Now was not the time to dwell on them. Tomorrow would be soon enough when the wedding was over and the newlyweds were enjoying their honeymoon. Swallowing a sob, she hurriedly changed her dress and tried to focus on the day ahead.

Downstairs, George was waiting to take the bride to church in Tom’s car when there was a tap at the door. All the staff were frantically rushing about trying to get the food laid out in the dining room for when the happy couple returned so George answered the door to find the postman on the step.

‘Morning, George.’ Bill Day touched his cap. ‘Big day today, eh, for Lady Huntley, God bless her. And not afore time. I reckon she’s overdue a little happiness. But hark at me rabbitin’ on. I’ve a couple o’ letters here for you.’ He frowned as he handed them over, wishing he had a shilling for every such letter he had delivered in the town and surrounding villages that week.

George frowned too when he saw the official-looking envelopes. ‘Thanks, Bill.’ They were undoubtedly the letters telling Ben and Tom when they were to report for training, but what a time for them to come. Hastily making a decision he stuffed them deep down into the pocket of his jacket just as Sunday appeared on the stairs.

‘Anything for me, George?’

‘Nah, just a bill for me.’ He felt no guilt whatsoever for the lie. If Sunday were to see the letters before they left for the church, the day would be ruined before it had even begun. He would leave them where they would be found late that evening.

The day was a huge success from beginning to end. Lavinia looked beautiful in her blue dress and matching blue picture hat trimmed with silk roses, and she was so happy that she positively glowed and looked far younger than her years. William looked handsome too and when he saw his bride walking down the aisle towards him on Tom’s arm, little Susan and her twin Becky clutching a posy each and trotting behind, his chest swelled with pride. The Reverend Lockett’s service was touching, and by the time he pronounced them man and wife there was hardly a dry eye in the church. Outside in the sunshine the newlyweds were showered with rice and rose petals before being ushered into the car by George, who then drove them back to Treetops Manor.

‘If only Kitty had been here it would have been just perfect,’ Sunday said sadly as she was driven home in the trap by Tom. It was a sturdy old contraption pulled by their faithful nag, Meg. She at least would be safe when the Army requisitioned their war horses, for she was certainly too old to be of any use in the war.

Unsure how to answer, Tom shrugged. He too still missed Kitty although he rarely mentioned her for fear of Sunday bursting into tears again. ‘She’s young and impressionable and I’ve no doubt she’s having the time of her life in London.’ He reached over to gently squeeze his wife’s hand. ‘I’m sure she’ll be in touch again when the novelty wears off. But come along now; we won’t have sad thoughts today.’