This time we set out on the other side of the house, past a lovely formal garden, its statues decorated with crowns of snow and a snowy rim to the lily pond, then into a wilderness area that led up to Lovey Tor. This part of the grounds was full of old oak trees, bent against the cruel Dartmoor wind, as were cedars, yew trees and even a beech or two. When I paused to look back I saw that we had a lovely view of the house and the village beyond, nestled in the hollow between the hills. We could also glimpse another large house through the trees.

“What’s that?” I asked Bunty.

“Oh, that was poor old Freddie’s place,” she said. “I don’t know who it will go to now. He didn’t have any brothers. Perhaps it will be sold and we’ll have frightful nouveau riche bankers who will just come down for weekends.”

“At least you’d have a chance to meet people if they brought house parties with them,” I said and she grinned.

“Maybe they wouldn’t be so frightful. I do so want to marry someone rich enough to keep me. I could do without the title.”

“I agree,” I said. “Titles aren’t worth much in the real world, are they?”

“In your case you could presumably marry someone with a real title—you know—a prince or a duke.”

“That’s what my family would like. They have already tried to saddle me with a frightful Romanian prince. My friend Belinda and I called him Fishface.”

“But you’d prefer a penniless Darcy.” She glanced back over her shoulder to see Darcy far behind, walking with Monty as they dragged the sled.

“Yes, I would, actually. But it probably won’t ever happen. I don’t think I’d be allowed to marry a Catholic.”

“That’s stupid. I’d jolly well ignore them if I wanted to marry someone I loved.”

“I think it’s something to do with the law of England. One can hardly go against that.”

“You’ll find a way if you want to,” she said encouragingly.

We walked on.

“How much further? I’m tired,” Junior whined.

I glanced back again as a thought struck me. This part of the property was close to Freddie’s house, and what’s more, it was full of big, solid trees. If he had wanted to rig up some kind of booby trap then the position here would have been ideal. Why go all the way around to the orchard?

“Here we are,” Sir Oswald called. “This is the one I thought would do. What do you think?”