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sensed from the frown between her aunt’s eyes that Beatrice was either beginning a headache or finding her feet painful. Helena reached out and touched her hand. ‘Are you tired?’
    â€˜A little,’ Beatrice said.
    Oliver immediately offered his arm. ‘Then we’ll leave the Nag’s Head until another time. In fact, I think we would all appreciate a rest.’
    As the car wound its way between the hedgerows on the way back to Broadway Manor, Helena began to look forward to the rest of the day with a delicious anticipation. She and Oliver now took every chance to be alone together, with Beatrice considering that it was unnecessary for her to be chaperoned within their own grounds. She turned to gaze at him seated before her beside the chauffeur, studying the back of his head, looking at the way his fair hair curled slightly at the base of his neck. This feeling she had for him
must
be love, otherwise surely she wouldn’t be longing for them to be alone together? As for her lingering misgivings, she decided that she was merely proving her father right. Jacob had always professed that women were illogical.

Chapter Eight
    A few days later, after her silk brocade bedroom curtains had been opened to herald another warm day and the maid had left the room, Helena leaned back against the soft pillows to savour her hot chocolate. Oliver had now been at Broadway Manor for three weeks and the whole household was expecting an engagement; even the maids were casting sideways glances. Yet there had been no hint of a proposal. Helena tried to think whether there had been any change in his attitude towards her. But the reverse was true – their private moments together were increasingly more affectionate. However, even Oliver must realise that his delay was beginning to cause her embarrassment. And when after breakfast her father asked her to join him in his study, Helena guessed correctly that he too was becoming concerned.
    Jacob gazed at his daughter whose resemblance to her mother grew with every passing year and was a constant reminder of the poignancy of their loss. How proud Mary would have been of her. In a high-necked white blouse with leg of mutton sleeves and long blue skirt, Helena sat in the burgundy leather chair opposite his desk and smiled at him.
    Jacob cleared his throat. ‘My dear, I don’t like to intrude on such personal matters, but I felt that perhaps it was time we discussed …’
    Helena, seeing his discomfort, said swiftly, ‘Are you perhaps concerned about Oliver’s intentions, Papa?’
    He nodded with some relief. ‘He will be leaving us in just over a week, and while your Aunt Beatrice and I feel that the visit has been a resounding success …’
    â€˜You are wondering if and when he is going to declare himself.’
    Helena’s voice was quiet and he gave her a sharp glance. The man was inscrutable at times, but then so many of the upper classes were like that, giving the impression that they were a race apart, not quite mortal like the rest of the population. However, if Oliver had been merely toying with Helena’s affections … Jacob’s forehead creased in a frown. ‘That is exactly what I am wondering. I’m sure you are aware of how much importance I place on this match. Tell me, is there anything I should know? Something you haven’t told me?’
    Helena shook her head, ‘Not at all, Papa.’
    â€˜And he has given no hint of his intentions, has never talked of your future together?’
    Again she shook her head.
    â€˜You will obviously accept him?’
    Helena felt the atmosphere between them change into one of pressure, benign in nature but insistent. A refusal at this late stage when the county was expecting such a prestigious match would cause humiliation not only to Oliver but also to her father and aunt. It was only then that Helena realised that any doubts she had were no