Now in my sixth decade I have made my last pilgrimage to Norton. My dear husband has passed away after a long illness, and my children gone. How strange to return in the twilight of my life, and though my memory is dulled with age, remorse endures. The caretaker's son lives there now. From him I learnt that Sir Dudley Ryder is dead. His son, the first Baron Harrowby, rarely visits Norton. The house remains empty.

Ruth met me by arrangement; she is old now and fat. She lives comfortably on the stipend from my mother a how well she served our family. She told me that ten months after his presumed death, Charles Coram found his way to England, and in July of that same year he was reunited with his mother. I don't know where his life has taken him, and the question is not mine to ask, but Molly is happy with her adored son and has at last shown me mercy. I thank God her heart is bigger than my own. I never gave him the ring, the one that was worn by his grandfather. Instead, I returned it to the Roman. I climbed the hill and buried it with my bare hands. I hope that the curse on my blighted family will now be buried too.

May you, the future generations, attest to this.

Dorothy Paxton-Hooper, 1779.

Edward stared at the entry for a long moment, and then, holding it tightly, he ran from the pools. Panting, he reached the house and went inside. He leant against the wall, breathing deeply, trying to gather his emotions. He could no longer see the children, and he would no longer see the girl in the window. Despite his relief, he felt bitterly disappointed. Amongst the secrets and the ghosts, the past had finally taken its place.

The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts. Mentally exhausted, he moved his limbs sluggishly towards the door. Putting his hand on the latch, he looked up. The girl in the window stood before him, her grey-green eyes staring incisively through the plate of glass. Slowly he opened the door.

'You must be Edward,' she said. 'I am Helen Keyt. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Tell me, have you received my letter?'

'Elizabeth,' he answered faintly. 'I have.'

Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,

And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight, And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly, The surface glittered out of heart of light, And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.

Then a cloud passed and the pool was empty.

Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children, Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.

Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind Cannot bear very much reality.

Time past and time future What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present.

T. S. Eliot.

Author's Note.

I am privileged to live at Burnt Norton, the Gloucestershire estate which inspired T. S. Eliot to write the first of his Four Quartets. I hope my story may bring Burnt Norton to life once more.

It is a story based on real events, although I have embellished the facts and where necessary added or changed things in the interests of narrative colour and coherence. It tells of the Keyt family (pronounced 'Kite') who lived at Norton from 1716 when they bought the estate from the Saye and Seale family to increase their already large local holdings. Sir William Keyt was christened at Blockley on 6 July 1689. He married Ann Tracy on 23 November 1710 at Toddington. Sir William died in the fire that engulfed his new mansion on 9 September 1741.

In 1753, twelve years after the fire, my husband's ancestor Sir Dudley Ryder, Lord Chief Justice and father of the first Baron Harrowby, bought the estate from Sir Thomas Keyt, and it has since remained in his family's ownership for over two hundred and fifty years. Over the years, Norton House, though itself untouched by the fire, became known as Burnt Norton.

For the purposes of this book I have used the original names where possible but in the interests of my story I have used only four of the original eight children. I have omitted Jane who was born in 1713 and was christened at the church of Holy Trinity, Stratford-upon-Avon; Agnes, who was christened in 1715, Anne christened in 1717 but who died in infancy; and lastly Robert who was christened at Holy Trinity, Stratford, on 18 December, 1724. Robert succeeded to the title of the fourth Baronet upon the death of his brother Thomas, but he remained childless. The baronetcy became extinct upon his death. I do hope that descendants of the Keyt family will forgive my omissions and indeed my impudence in altering some of the dates and facts for the benefit of my story. Elizabeth was in reality born in 1721 and she died in 1741; she is buried at St Eadburgha's church in Ebrington. Dorothy was christened in Ebrington in 1727; there is no record of her death. John Keyt died in early childhood. Thomas was in reality born in 1712 and died on 24 July 1755. Gilbert Paxton-Hooper is a fictional character.

If we are to believe local legend, both Sir William Keyt and his son Thomas were infatuated with Molly Johnson, and her famous words 'What is a Kite without wings?' were genuine. Sir William's affair resulted in the end of his marriage to Ann Tracy, and led to his eventual downfall. The unusual circumstances surrounding the attempted murder of his butler Thomas Whitstone are also recorded.

It is quite possible that Molly Johnson did have an illegitimate child but her association with the Foundling Hospital is imaginary. Facts relating to Captain Coram and the hospital are genuine.

George Heron served Sir William faithfully until the end. A poem written upon his gravestone in Weston-sub-Edge was removed in the nineteenth century; only a small portion of the stone now survives.

To my knowledge Handel never visited Norton.

I have gleaned facts from the Sandon archives, from the eighteenth-century diaries of Sir Dudley Ryder, the Gloucestershire County Council archives, and from the research of Roger Keight, Margaret Causer, Dr Christine Hodgetts, Jo Xuereb-Brennan, Guy and Lucile Wareing and Margaret Fisher.

My research has been considerably aided by the diaries of Samuel Pepys, Dr Johnson's London by Liza Picard, and the Foundling Museum in Brunswick Square. I am indebted to my husband Conroy Harrowby for his patience and fortitude, and to Marge Cloutts, James and Viathou Parker, Kate Sloane, Medina Marks, Nicola Finlay and Ellis Rogers for their invaluable advice, and to Pink Harrison for her beautiful artwork. The biggest debt of all goes to five people without whom this book would not be possible: Lorenzo Soprani Volpini for making me write it; Sheila Crowley, my wonderful agent, who believes in my book; Lara McDonnell, my initial outstanding editor; and Charlotte and Nick Evans, who have encouraged and helped me along the way, and without whom none of this would have happened. Last, but by very means not least, my publisher Anthony Cheetham and his wonderful editor-in-chief Laura Palmer, both of whom have made this happen.

My thanks go to them all.

Caroline Sandon.

(Sandon is a courtesy title given to the eldest son of the earl. My husband, Dudley Ryder, is now the eighth Earl of Harrowby.).

About this Book.

A DYNASTY DESTROYED BY LOVE.

A ONCE-GRAND HOUSE, REDUCED TO RUINS.

1731: When his youngest son is killed in a tragic accident, Sir William Keyt, master of Norton House, buries himself in his fortune. He builds a second vast mansion in his grounds, squandering money he does not have on luxury his family does not want.

For Keyt has long been blind to the desires of others. His eldest son has fallen in love with their young maidservant, Molly Johnson, a ray of light in a household dimmed by tragedy. Keyt wants Molly for himself and, driven mad with lust and jealousy, he will do anything to have her. Even if it means breaking the heart of his son, losing the sympathy of his favourite daughter, and bringing about the destruction of his family.

THIS IS THE TRAGIC STORY OF BURNT NORTON.

Reviews.

'A powerful story, beautifully told, of love and betrayal, greed and tragedy, which is all the more intriguing because it is rooted in truth.' -Julian Fellowes

About the Author.

Caroline Sandon lives with her family at Burnt Norton in Gloucestershire, the home and gardens that inspired T. S. Eliot to write the first of his Four Quartets. Her husband's family has owned and lived in this house for the last two hundred and sixty years. When Caroline isn't writing, she works for her own interior design company. This is her first novel.

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