Briony looked at her saviour’s face and smiled shyly. God had answered her prayers in the shape of Mrs Henry Dumas. Mrs Prosser Evans had been right. God was good. God was very, very good.

Henry waited until he knew Isabel had retired for the night before going to see her. He had eaten dinner at his club, trying to decide how to face the situation in hand. A few large brandies had given him the courage he needed but it was already failing as he listened at his wife’s door.

Isabel was humming. The annoyance he felt at the sound was so profound, it made his hands tremble and his heart beat a tattoo in his chest. She was laughing at him. In his own house, dammit!

Isabel, brushing her hair in front of her dressing-table mirror, turned in her seat to face him as he strode in without knocking. She was wearing one of the lacy chemises that had come with her trousseau. Her large breasts spilled out of the tiny garment, showing dark pink nipples. She smiled at her husband. She had been expecting him and had purposely waited up until he showed himself. She watched the flicker of disgust as he eyed her bosom, and her smile widened.

Raising one eyebrow, she spoke softly.

‘Why, Henry, this is the last place I expected to see you.’ The inference wasn’t lost on him.

‘I want to talk to you, Isabel, and this place is as good as any.’

She interrupted him easily.

‘No, Henry, you’ll hear me out. You picked this room because it’s farthest from the servants’ quarters, so what we have to say you do not want overheard. Well ...’ she spread her hands, ‘what I have to say had best be stated in private anyway.

‘From now on there will be some changes in our marriage. We will still function outwardly as man and wife, I expect your full support when socialising. In public we shall carry on as the devoted couple.’ She allowed herself another smile at that. ‘But inside this house I do not want to see you unless I absolutely have to. You disgust me, Henry. When I think of that child ... the position she’s in because of you. Well, I intend to look after the girl, and when the time comes I want the baby. I think the mother will be happy, and the child will have every advantage here with us. It’s your child after all, Henry Dumas, and your child should be brought up in this house, as you were.’

Henry’s face was white with shock and disbelief. He took a step towards her and she slipped from the chair and picked up a large cut-glass perfume bottle.