‘Good.’ The woman looked at Nancy. ‘You can report back to your normal duties first thing in the morning, Nancy.’

‘Yes, missus.’ Nancy bobbed her knee and when the housekeeper disappeared off into the drawing room to check that the maid had done a proper job of the dusting and polishing, Nancy and Amber moved on to the green baize door at the end of the hallway that led into the kitchen. One of the grooms, a gardener and the parlourmaid were sitting at the table drinking tea when Amber followed Nancy in, and the second she entered they fell silent. Noting the suddenly frosty atmosphere, Amber felt so embarrassed that she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

‘So . . . you’re back?’ The cook was rolling pastry on the large, scrubbed pine table but paused to stare at Amber who inclined her head.

‘Hm, you’ve done all right for yerself, girl, haven’t you? It’s quite a step from being a laundry maid to a nanny, ain’t it? I wonder what you did to deserve it?’

Amber was only too aware of what she was insinuating and knowing that she had to stand her ground, she retorted, ‘Mr Greenwood must have thought I’d be suitable, mustn’t he?’

The cook grinned. ‘Aye, he must, although he’s turned a fair few others away over the last couple o’ weeks who would have been an’ all. We hear he got you a nice little cushy job in London wi’ the Temples over Christmas as well.’

Amber grit her teeth to stop herself retaliating. Surprisingly it was Mrs Ruffin, who had followed them in, who told the cook tartly, ‘Perhaps Mr Greenwood thought that Amber would do well at the job. She certainly never shirked in her other one from what I could see of it.’

The cook positively bristled, although she clamped her mouth shut and said nothing more and Amber deposited the tray on the end of the long wooden draining board by the sink and fled the room.

Outside in the hallway she paused to blink the tears from her eyes before lifting her skirts and racing back up the stairs.

Barnaby Greenwood was cradling David on his lap when Amber entered the nursery and looking up he said, ‘Ah, Miss Ainsley . . . or may I call you Amber? I’m glad of this moment alone with you as there’s something I’d . . .’ His voice trailed away as Nancy appeared in the doorway and Amber frowned.

‘Yes, what is it?’ she asked.

‘Oh, er . . . it’s nothing that won’t wait,’ he assured her, standing up and placing his son in her arms and without another word he was gone, leaving Nancy to scratch her head.

‘An’ what were all that about?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Amber admitted. ‘But if it’s anythin’ important I’ve no doubt he’ll tell me in his own good time.’

*