‘Do you feel well enough to go for a walk, or would you rather stay here and rest? It’s entirely up to you, Dorothea. I won’t feel at all upset if you’d rather be on your own. On the other hand, you might prefer to have company.’

‘I do,’ said the other, decisively.

‘Then I have a suggestion to make.’

‘What is it?’

‘You may have noticed the pianoforte in the salon. It’s always kept tuned. I’ve used it myself to practise when I’m performing in a play that requires me to sing. Don’t forget that I did encourage you to take singing lessons.’

‘You did and it was good advice.’

‘Then you can begin right here. If you’ll trust me, I’ll act as your teacher.’

‘I trust you implicitly. You sing so beautifully.’

‘When you’ve finished your breakfast,’ said Hannah, ‘we’ll make a start. Are you happy with that idea?’

‘Yes, I am,’ said Dorothea, producing her first smile of the day.

In leaving her husband, Kitty Denley had come to see that there were losses as well as gains. She had flounced out of the family house after a fierce row and moved into a much smaller dwelling as a temporary measure. Money was no object. A wealthy woman in her own right, she could well afford to buy a new property when she found one that suited her. For the moment, she was happy enough in her new abode with the servants she’d taken with her. The sense of freedom was breathtaking.

Set against the benefits, however, there were disadvantages. Kitty had walked out on the multiple luxuries provided by a husband who was a highly successful businessman. In doing so, she’d fractured the small social circle in which she moved. Her few women friends secretly admired what she’d done, but their husbands ordered them to have nothing whatsoever to do with her. When she’d lived under his roof, Hugh Denley had giving her the countenance of respectability. It had vanished instantly. She’d become an outcast.

As she reflected on the losses, she decided that, on balance, they were outweighed by the gains. She could start a new life elsewhere, one in which she wouldn’t be required to be on her husband’s arm in church every Sunday. Kitty was her own woman at last. Nothing could dull the pleasure she drew from that thought. Unimpeded by someone else’s demands, she could plan her day exactly the way she wanted. And then, to her chagrin, her husband called at the house.

Kitty wrestled against her initial instinct to send him on his way. Whatever the hostility between them, however, civility had to be preserved. She therefore agreed to see him. Denley was in a testy mood.

‘What do you mean by setting those terriers on to me?’ he demanded.

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’