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greeting to two gardeners on the opposite side, who were making their way to the walled vegetable garden to start their daily duties.  This was the first time he had been down here since arriving home on Friday.  He looked at the scene before him with pleasure.  It was stunningly beautiful this morning.  The sun made the water sparkle a dazzling blue, the swans looked pristine white, the trees and shrubs were healthy and abundant.  It was a restful, calming sight and he had forgotten how much he loved it.

During the past few years he had spent a great deal of time at Blairness and travelling abroad, especially to Italy when the fancy took him, unable to settle long at Canleigh after his mother’s demise and Margaret causing such a dreadful scandal.  He had tried to stay for Delia’s sake but after she recovered from her breakdown, she wanted to stay with the Kershaw’s rather than with him and with Richard and Victoria away at school for most of the year, Canleigh had seemed a bleak and lonely place.  He had missed his mother terribly.  She had been his rock as far as Canleigh was concerned; having run the place so expertly for such a long time after his father’s death and he found it was hard to make decisions about the estate without her.  He knew it was pathetic and weak but it was easier to leave the daily running of Canleigh to the Hardy’s and Dick Joyce and just escape, knowing that Delia was perfectly safe and happy with the Kershaws and, when she had wanted to return at eighteen, had the Hardy’s to care for her.  And she was quite unconcerned as to whether he was around or not as when he did come home she rarely spent any time in his presence, always finding some excuse or another to avoid him.

However, times had changed.  He felt a need to come home.  He was tired of travelling on his own and fed up with the midges in Scotland, who loved him at this time of the year.  It was time to return to Canleigh and settle.  Enjoy the estate before it was too late … and it would be a real added bonus if once Richard was qualified, he could find a position in a hospital in Yorkshire and return to live here too.  It would really give them a chance to bond.

Striding down to his favourite bench offering the longest view of the lake, he sat down and thought about the last two days.  What a traumatic few hours it had turned out to be.  Delia’s wedding cancelled, two of his children departing angrily, two guests leaving in haste and Victoria, distraught and unhappy in her room.

And then there was Ruth.  He smiled, remembering how her eyes lit up and sparkled when he spoke, how she smiled easily, how her beautiful golden hair looked so soft.  He was extraordinarily pleased he was going to see her again and was really looking forward to talking to her.  Just being in her company made him feel better than he had for years and he simply had to find out if he wasn’t just being crazy to think there could be anything between them … or, for that matter, between her and Richard.  If there was, then he would have to bow out quickly and his wish to come home to Canleigh would have to be stifled if Richard wanted to marry Ruth.  It would be very difficult to live with them if the instant attraction he had felt for Ruth developed into real love.  He wondered how she felt about him … he was positive she had felt that pull, that spark that flew between them when they were in the same room.  He was desperate to see her and find out for certain.  He smiled.  After Margaret, he hadn’t wanted or needed to get too close to anyone.  He enjoyed his own company and now surprised himself that he was toying with the idea of re-marriage.  He must be getting old.

The next morning, he set off for Oxford much earlier than he needed to.  Even though he couldn’t see Ruth for a few hours, it would make him feel good just to be in the same city.

The Rolls purred along smoothly, covering the miles with ease and just before lunchtime, the famous spires of Oxford could be seen on the horizon.  He drove through the busy city to the Randolf Hotel where he often stayed when visiting Richard and Vicky, handed his car keys to the doorman for the Rolls to be parked, registered at reception and was escorted up to a suite he had stayed in many times before.  All the staff recognised him and greeted him warmly and he felt completely at home as he strolled to the window to look down into St. Giles.  It was a scene of frenetic activity as usual.  Double decker buses jammed the streets, cars crawled along at a snail’s pace and students in their black gowns flapping round their legs and bags of heavy books in the baskets on their bicycles weaved in and out of the traffic with scant regard for their safety.  Pedestrians, looking warm and harassed, bustled and jostled for space on the pavements.

Charles glanced at his watch and decided to ring Richard on the off chance that he might be in his flat and not at the hospital.

“Richard.  I hope I haven’t disturbed you.  As I hadn’t heard from you, I just wanted to make sure you arrived back in Oxford safely,” said Charles quickly when the telephone was picked up, not wanting to mention Ruth had already told him.

“Yes.  I’m back,” Richard said smartly, unable to keep the hostility from his tone.  “Just doing some studying as I have an exam this afternoon … is that all as I have rather a lot to

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