The doctor had shaken his head. ‘Your wife is of a very delicate constitution and she informed me that she never wanted the babies in the first place. She seems to resent you for that and blame you for what is happening to her now.’

‘I’m quite aware of that, sir.’ Barnaby had strode to the window with his hands clasped behind his back feeling helpless. ‘Do you think it would help if I insisted she got up?’

‘I fear that would do more harm than good. Believe me, I have seen this happen to women of a certain class more times than I care to remember. Some women have no inclination to become a mother and I’m afraid, from what I have gathered, your wife is one of them. All you can do now is gently persuade her to get up when she feels able to, although I fear she will never again be as she was. And I suppose I don’t have to remind you that another pregnancy could well be disastrous for her, do I? I’m sorry I can’t give you more positive news.’

Once the doctor had left, Barnaby had made his way up to the nursery on legs that felt like lead. He had found the nanny tidying the nursery whilst the babies slept in their cribs and as he gazed down on them he felt infinitely sad. He had imagined that their birth would bring him and Louisa together again, but all it had done was drive them further apart and he was wondering if he was paying now for his wickedness in the past.

Charlotte was continuing to thrive, but the same couldn’t be said for David. Despite the wet nurse’s best efforts, he was still a puny, sickly child who spent the majority of his time whining, whilst Charlotte was plump with a ready smile for anyone who paid her attention. She already recognised her father and would reach up her chubby arms to him and gurgle with delight each time he leant over her crib. He never tired of being with her or her brother, which he supposed was just as well seeing as their mother had no time for them. Every day the nanny would go to Louisa’s room to ask if she would like to see them and every day the answer was always the same – she was too tired.

And so it was that on Christmas Day Barnaby made his way up to the nursery to see his children. ‘Any problems, Nanny?’ he asked.

The woman shook her head and smiled. ‘Not with Miss Charlotte, sir. But I’m afraid I’m still gravely concerned about Master David. I’ve asked the doctor to call in again to check him over the day after tomorrow. I hope that meets with your approval? Oh, and a Merry Christmas, sir.’