The eagerness in his face caught at her heart. How would she feel if she were meeting her child for the first time?

She called Netty and as arranged, Netty brought Danny in, shepherding him before her.

‘Mr Barnwell.’ Netty acknowledged the man without a curtsey. Back in England it would have been a meek bob of the head but now Netty looked the man in the eye, unafraid, and Adelaide realised, with a jolt, how much her relationship with Netty had changed from that of mistress and servant to friend and equal.

Danny and Richard stared at each other, Danny with puzzlement and Richard with—what? Surprise?

Richard held out his hand to Danny.

‘You must be Daniel,’ he said with a smile. ‘How do you do, sir.’ He glanced at Adelaide. ‘I am an old friend of your mother’s and I’ve come all the way from England to meet you.’

Danny glanced at his mother, who gave him what she hoped looked like a reassuring smile and a nod. Danny took the offered hand and shook it.

‘Nice to meet you, sir,’ he said. ‘Did you have a good voyage?’

‘It took a very long time, but I am pleased to be here. I knew your mother when she was not much older than you,’ Richard said and Adelaide’s stomach knotted. Had she loved him for so long?

‘Did you know my father?’ Danny asked, the eagerness in his voice cutting Adelaide to the core.

Richard shot Adelaide a quick glance and she begged him with her eyes to keep his peace.

‘I’ve brought you a present,’ Richard said, reaching for the largest of the two parcels.

Danny’s eyes widened. ‘It’s not my birthday until April.’

‘I see you are a very well brought-up young man. Sometimes presents can be given and received when it is not Christmas or your birthday. See, I have one for Mama too.’ He handed Adelaide the small parcel.

‘That was kind. Thank you,’ Adelaide said.

Richard rubbed his hands together and with a forced bonhomie, said, ‘Aren’t you going to open them?’

Adelaide nodded at Danny, who knelt on the floor, carefully undoing the string and laying it to one side before unfolding the brown paper.

‘When I was your age,’ Richard said, ‘I would have torn straight through the paper to see what was inside.’

Danny glanced up. ‘Mama would be cross if I wasted good paper,’ he replied with such seriousness Adelaide covered her mouth to conceal the smile.

The last fold fell away to reveal a wooden box. Danny’s eyes widened. ‘Mama! Soldiers. Oh, thank you, Mr Barnwell. I’ve always wanted soldiers.’

‘Mr Barnwell sounds so formal,’ Richard said. ‘You can call me …’ He glanced at Adelaide. ‘Call me Uncle Richard.’

‘Why? Are you my uncle?’

‘No, but it’s a polite title for good friends of your parents,’ Adelaide said. ‘And Mr. Barnwell is a very dear friend.’