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even more so if Jessie takes it into her head to marry. It will suit me much better to be in the house in Illingham which Ilam has offered to me. Remember I’ve lived there for half my life.’
    No one commented upon this, and a moment or two later, Lady Hope began to speak about the difficulties of living in outlying areas, particularly in the winter. Jessie was not fooled. She had sensed everyone’s eyes upon her and knew that they were all wondering about Henry Lusty, who had begun to make his interest plain over recent weeks.
    She had not yet decided what to do about his proposal. She had not told anyone about it, apart from Lady Ilam, and while she would never wish the younger woman’s honeymoon away, she would have been glad to be able to consult her further.
    She could never think of marriage without having Raff at the back of her mind. She knew in her heart of hearts that he would never look her way, but she could not stop thinking about him. Yet she did want to be married and have children. Henry Lusty might be her last chance. He was a good man and not ill-looking. Right now, she felt as if she stood at a crossroad. If only she could be given some sort of sign!
    ‘Raff says that he is going to visit me whilst he is in Derbyshire,’ said Lady Agatha. ‘Personally, I’ll believe it when I see it.’
    That will be my sign, Jessie thought to herself. If he fails to visit us, then I will accept Henry Lusty.

Chapter Two
    A fter Lord Ashbourne had bade Sir Wilfred and Lady Hope farewell, he set off in his travelling post-chaise to make his promised visit to Lady Gilchrist. John Pointer, his valet of some ten years standing, travelled with him. A slim, fair-haired man of his lordship’s age, he was elegantly if discreetly dressed in sober black.
    ‘An interesting visit, John,’ remarked the earl.
    ‘Extremely so, my lord,’ the valet responded.
    ‘Lady Hope’s still a handsome woman, don’t you think? I courted her over twenty years ago, if you remember.’
    ‘A very attractive lady, who knows how to dress to her best advantage,’ the valet agreed.
    ‘She’s done Jez Warburton some good, don’t you think?’ mused the earl.
    ‘Indeed.’
    ‘I’ve always been fond of Jez. I hope she doesn’t settle for Lusty. She could do so much better for herself.’ He thought of how Jez had looked at the wedding breakfast. His compliment to her had been sincere. He liked her, he was glad that she had had some guidance from Lady Hope, and if he was honest with himself, he had been surprised at how very lovely she had looked. He found it disturbing that she could not believe that he had meant what he said.
    For a while, the two men travelled on in a companionable silence. Those who were familiar with the suave, debonair picture that Lord Ashbourne presented would have been astonished at the easy way in which he conversed with his valet. The fact of the matter was that his lordship let his guard down with very few people, not being prone to trust anyone unless he had first proved himself worthy of the earl’s confidence: John Pointer was such a man.
    ‘Ilam cut a fine figure, didn’t you think?’ asked Ashbourne, his tone deceptively casual.
    ‘Certainly,’ Pointer answered. ‘He is a son to be proud of.’
    ‘As you say.’
    Ashbourne closed his eyes and thought about the past. He had been the only son and the youngest child of Michael Eldred Stafford Montgomery, the 7th Earl of Ashbourne. After his birth, his mother had lingered for a week and had then faded away. His father, never a very paternal man, had detested him from that moment. It had always seemed to be the way in his family that fathers and sons had detested each other. He had certainly hated his.
    Strangely enough, he did not hate Ilam. He did not really feel that he knew him. That summer, something unexpected had happened. His son had fallen in love. Ashbourne had only had to see the couple look at each other to know that Ilam’s feelings