She saw the look on his face and felt a knot of anger begin to form inside her.

‘As you know only too well, Henry, it takes two to make a baby, and I think that you should give this some thought.’

Henry stood up, gave her a cold glance and left the room. A little later she heard the door slam as he left the house.

Isabel stared into the fire. She would endure Henry’s attentions to get a child of her own. She was trapped in this marriage whether she liked it or not. She knew that a lot of women took lovers but those opportunities never presented themselves to her, and as she was still a virgin she had no idea of the wiles women used to inaugurate such affairs.

In order to forget his wife’s unpleasant suggestion, Henry went straight to Briony. She was playing with her kitten in front of the fire in the morning room, her hair braided into two plaits. She was wearing a simple lemon-coloured dress with matching socks and hair ribbons. When he was due she made herself look as young as possible.

‘Hello, Henry.’ Her voice was high and girlish.

Henry smiled at her wanly. She really was a pretty little thing and her beaming face when she saw him always made him feel better. With this child he was in control, master of everything. He sat himself in a chair and patted his lap. Briony picked up the kitten and went to him. She slipped on to his knee and kissed him chastely on the cheek. She knew exactly how to act with him. He rubbed her thigh under the silky dress and felt the first stirrings inside him.

‘How’s my best girl been?’

Briony dropped the kitten gently on to the carpet and put her slender arms around his neck.

‘I’ve been good. I’ve been a very, very good little girl. You can ask Mrs Horlock.’

Henry grinned and felt the tension seeping out of him. He rubbed at her little breasts with his large hand and Briony stared at an oil painting over his shoulder. It was of a ballerina and she loved the brightly painted scene. Henry nuzzled her neck.

‘Shall we go upstairs and play some games?’

Briony rolled her eyes at the ceiling, then putting her face in front of his, smiled engagingly.

‘That would be lovely.’

As she followed him up the stairs to her bedroom she saw her father’s face as it had been that afternoon, and tried to blot it out.