Jenny giggled, enjoying the friendly banter. There was a strict order of rank among servants and, being very low in the order of things, she hadn’t expected it to be this friendly. But it was. It never ceased to amaze her and she couldn’t help wondering if this household was unique in that way. If it was, then she had been very lucky to get this job. She didn’t always feel like that of course. Many nights, as she crawled into bed absolutely exhausted, she felt anything but grateful.

‘Well, make sure you recover by tonight because while the Stannard family are enjoying themselves we’re going to have a knees-up of our own.’ Then he was off as Mrs Douglas appeared at the top of the stairs.

‘Jenny, collect the tea tray from the library. The family have just retired to the drawing room.’

‘Yes, Mrs Douglas.’ She waited for the housekeeper to come down and then sped up to carry out her task.

Finding the library empty, she stood in the middle of the room and gazed at the shelves of books, breathing in the lovely smell of leather. This was something she missed so much. She walked over to a small table, picked up a leather bound book and ran her fingers over it, her eyes dreamy. She’d always loved reading, but now there wasn’t time for such things. When she reached her bed at night she was too tired to do anything but sleep. Again her thoughts turned to her friends at school, remembering how they had read at night using their torches. They’d had such fun.

She was angry with herself. It was pointless to yearn for those days. They were gone for ever. And she shouldn’t be moping for the past; she should be proud of herself. She’d had the courage to make a new life, and she had done pretty well. It had all come as a terrible shock at first, but she had adjusted and fitted in with the other servants, working hard. Mrs Douglas never had cause to complain. After finding out about her father, Jenny had felt unloved and unwanted; now she was a part of this household, accepted by them all.

She was about to put the book down when a voice said, ‘Do you like reading?’

She jumped violently, not realizing that anyone had come into the room. The thick carpet must have muffled his footsteps.

One of the Stannard sons took the book from her hands and put it on the shelf. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you. You were looking at that book with such longing. Why don’t you borrow it?’

‘I couldn’t do that, sir.’ She edged away from him.

‘Of course you could. No one would mind.’

‘No, sir.’ She reached to pick up the tray, but he blocked her path.

‘What’s your name?’