It was hard for Amber not to smile as she handed the woman her cloak, and Mrs Boswell’s eyes were like saucers as she watched the master of the house escort the former laundry maid up the sweeping staircase as if she was visiting royalty.

‘You could have knocked me down with a feather,’ she confided to the cook when she returned to the kitchen, and they both shook their heads, wondering what the hell was going on.

Once they reached the nursery floor, Barnaby again held the door open for Amber to pass through ahead of him, and the first thing she saw was Nancy with young David on her lap as she tried to tempt him to take his milk.

‘Amber!’ Nancy’s face broke into a broad smile at sight of her friend but spotting the master behind her she quickly looked down at her young charge again.

‘So how is our young man doing today, Nancy?’ Barnaby asked, injecting some cheerfulness into his voice.

‘Not too bad, sir, though he still won’t take much milk. Cook even tried puttin’ a bit o’ honey in it to try an’ tempt him but he just falls asleep on it.’

As Amber stared down at the drowsy baby, her face softened. His hair was the exact same colour as his father’s but his face was pale and he was so small that he looked almost new born.

‘He’s lovely,’ she said softly and Barnaby nodded in agreement.

‘Yes, he is, isn’t he? And this is his sister over here.’

There were two cribs set to either side of a blazing fire and approaching the one that Barnaby had pointed to she found herself staring down at a baby girl.

‘This is little Charlotte,’ Barnaby told Amber and although she hated this man with a vengeance, she could hear the love in his voice for his children.

This child had hair much like the colour of her own, she found herself thinking, and her long dark eyelashes were curled on her peaches-and-cream cheeks. Her limbs were plump and Amber thought she was easily the most beautiful baby she had ever seen. It would be a pleasure to care for these two cherubs, she thought, if only it didn’t mean being in such close proximity to their father.

After a nod to Nancy, Barnaby led her from the room and once back in his study he asked hopefully, ‘So, is it a position you would consider, Miss Ainsley?’

She stared back at him, torn in two directions: her heart told her she could be very happy in this job, but common sense told her that she would be putting herself too close to his attentions again.