Mags took a deep breath. Part of her wanted to scream at the audacity of his words, but it vied with the part of her that was so relieved to read them, and with the sheer embarrassment of them. Who had Harold talked to? Not . . . God, don’t let it have been Susan! On reading the words again, she thought they did sound like intimate words spoken between lovers – for who else would know about Harold’s skill at lovemaking?

Your letter shocked me. It seems that I am to take on your desire to be independent, and your outspoken and direct approach. This will not be easy for me. I, too, have been brought up to be independent and to have my own way. My father trusted my decisions, from a young age.

Trusted them, or knew it was no use arguing with you, Harold?

I am very upset by your insinuation that I am having an affair with someone who was nothing more than a maid in my home.

When will you see the truth about Flora? What does she have to do to finally disillusion you? Do you think a mother gives up a daughter easily? Isn’t it strange to you that two sons – my dear late brother Francis and I – found Mother to be a wonderful woman, who loved and cared for us? Why she couldn’t do that for Flora was because Flora was destructive, wilful and, yes, even as a child, she was evil and spiteful. And despite all she has done since – finding and marrying her own half-brother, to spite our mother – you choose to believe Flora. That hurts me. It hurts not to be trusted, and it hurts to know that you too are hurting, thinking that I am being unfaithful to you, when I love you so much and you are all I need, or will ever need.

You are warm and loving and, I know now, a deeply passionate woman. My mother wasn’t those things. From what I came to understand, she used the intimate side of marriage to bargain and to punish, and the result was that father sought solace elsewhere.

I am still coming to terms with how he behaved, and the devastating consequences of his actions. It isn’t every day that an unknown elder brother turns up out of the blue, in an incestuous marriage with your own sister, and takes the inheritance that you thought of as yours all your life.

If I am a little rash with my decisions and actions, and seem not to settle at anything, it is because of that, coming on top of the loss of my parents and my brother and, not least, the family home – the only one I have ever known.

Can you not open your heart to me, my darling? Forgive me and give us a chance at happiness, without doubting me, and without fighting me over the silly notion you have that, even as my future treasured wife, you want to work for a living? I cannot come to terms with that. How will I be perceived? Do you know of any other couple of our standing whose wife goes out to work? It is preposterous.