Betty appeared in the drawing room doorway then, and cocking her head over her shoulder she told Ruby, ‘The mistress would like to see you.’ Her eyes seemed to be flashing a warning and Ruby’s stomach turned over. Even so she straightened her dress and with what dignity she could muster followed Betty into the room. At a glance she saw that, like the rest of the house, this room was beautiful but she had no time to admire it for her eyes were drawn to the woman who reclined on a chaise longue by the fire beneath layers of blankets, and she blinked with surprise. If this was Miranda’s mother, she was nothing at all as she had expected her to be. She was grotesquely overweight and her fat fingers were so weighed down with rings containing stones all the colours of the rainbow that Ruby was surprised she could lift them. A box of sweetmeats was open beside her and her cheeks were heavily rouged, making her appear much older than she surely was. Her hair was fair and intricately curled and her gown was quite beautiful, although it was straining across her ample chest.

‘So, you are Miranda’s new maid,’ she said, eyeing Ruby up and down with an expression that suggested there was a dirty smell beneath her nose. ‘And what was all that noise in the hall just now? I heard Miranda shouting. Have you upset her?’

Ruby gulped. ‘No, ma’am. I think she was shouting at her music teacher.’

Mrs Pembroke raised a delicately plucked eyebrow. ‘Very well, send her in to me immediately. If he has upset her, I shall see that he is dismissed.’

‘She is in with her father at present.’

‘What? Whatever for? Go and tell them both that I wish to see them in here straightaway.’

Ruby bobbed her knee and shot away and seconds later she was tapping on the study door to pass on Mrs Pembroke’s message.

Mr Pembroke nodded and ushered Miranda, who was clearly in a sulk, in front of him as Ruby scuttled back to the kitchen. The next minute the master and the mistress’s voices could be heard all over the house.

*

In the drawing room Mr Pembroke faced his wife, his eyes blazing as Miranda stood pouting. Unused to seeing him that way, his wife’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Why, darling, whatever is the matter?’ she simpered.

‘Our daughter is the matter!’ He glared at Miranda who glared back at him. ‘I think perhaps it’s time you taught her a few manners!’

‘But whatever do you mean, Oscar? If you’re talking about the little altercation that just took place in the hallway, I did hear it, but I’m sure it wasn’t Miranda’s fault.’