‘Mother!’ She rushed over to the couch. ‘You must pull yourself together. You can’t let this happen.’ She whispered, not wishing to let the others hear her pleading so desperately. They were arranging her life as if she had no say in the matter! But she did. It was nearly 1930, for heaven’s sake, and she was old enough to make her own decisions. Her father would never have allowed this to happen. The pain that thought caused was almost unbearable. But he wasn’t here any more.

Mrs Winford moaned and pushed her away. ‘Do as you are told.’

It was clear there wasn’t going to be any help from her mother; she was too distraught to think straight, and anyway, she was well aware that her mother had no great affection for her. She didn’t know why, because, as far as she knew, she’d never done anything to upset her mother.

Eugenie was shaking so badly it was difficult to stand up. With sheer determination she found the strength from the anger now raging through her. So her aunt thought she wasn’t fit for anything but a life of ease. Well, she was wrong about that! All her life she’d had a determined nature, and if she wanted to learn something or to do something differently, then she never allowed herself to be beaten until the task had been mastered. She would do anything – except marry that odious man!

‘You’re wasting your time appealing to your mother.’ Aunt Gertrude had a look of contempt on her face for her sister. ‘She’s lost the only thing in life she cared about. Money.’

‘I want to know what happened!’ Eugenie stubbornly stood her ground. ‘How could father lose all his money?’

Albert Greaves stood in front of her with a sneer on his face. ‘Your father was one of the elite brokers, a member of Wall Street. He was always so sure of his position and wealth, but the crash wiped him out.’

‘I always told him what he was doing was too risky, but he wouldn’t listen to me.’ Aunt Gertrude looked superior. ‘He should have invested some of his money in property and gold like all sensible people, but he gambled and lost. You’re lucky to have someone like Albert to take you in because you’re now destitute, Eugenie. You’ll be moving out of here in three days. Go to your room and start packing. You may remove only your personal things from this house. Everything else has to remain.’

Eugenie ran from the room, anxious to get away. She needed time to think. Once in her own bedroom she flung herself on to the bed and allowed her grief and fear to overflow. She would mourn her father in private, and then she must decide what to do. One thing was certain, though: she would not go to that horrible man.