For a moment she remembered the ballroom-dancing lessons they’d had to prepare them for their ‘coming out’ parties. She had loved the music of the dance bands, and they had all sighed over the lovely crooner Al Bowlly. But none of that would happen now.

Pushing away the unhappiness, Jenny tossed the note on to the bed and began to empty the trunk. The school things wouldn’t be needed, so they could be left behind. She piled these in the corner of the room, and, without wasting any more time, she grabbed her good clothes from the wardrobe and shoved them in the trunk, not bothering to fold them properly. It didn’t matter if they got creased, because she wouldn’t be wearing them again. If her aunt saw that she was packing, she might not watch her too closely over the next couple of days. The trunk was nearly full when the door burst open and her aunt strode in.

‘I’m glad to see you’re getting on with the packing. Whatever have you done with your hair?’ she exploded.

Jenny looked up from her task, her expression carefully schooled to show little emotion. But it was difficult because her heart was fluttering badly. ‘I’ve cut it in the latest style,’ she answered innocently, changing the subject quickly. ‘I’ve nearly finished packing, Aunt Gertrude. I’m taking only my best clothes.’

‘Your hair was past your waist and I don’t think Albert will like it short! Now, where’s your jewellery?’ Her aunt was pulling open drawers in the dressing table.

‘I’m wearing the diamond pendant; everything else is at the bottom of the trunk.’ Jenny didn’t even blink as she lied, praying that her aunt believed her and wouldn’t insist on seeing them. And she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what Greaves thought of her hair!

‘It will be safe enough there,’ her aunt said briskly. ‘None of it is of much value, but you may as well take it with you. As Albert’s wife you will have only the finest gems.’

Jenny breathed a silent sigh of relief when she knew she’d got away with the deception. However, she couldn’t understand why Greaves wanted someone as young as her, and the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. ‘Why doesn’t he marry my mother? She’s still quite lovely.’

Aunt Gertrude snorted in disgust. ‘He doesn’t want a neurotic woman who would refuse to give him an heir. He needs someone young and biddable.’ She narrowed her eyes and glared at her niece. ‘You are going to be biddable, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, Aunt.’ Jenny had been considered quite an actress in the school plays. She used that talent now with a demure downward cast of her eyes. ‘He’s offering me a home and a secure future. What else could I do?’