‘Why you in here? This private. Your room on other side.’

Evie spun round, almost jumping out of her skin with fright. A stony-faced Aunty Mimi stood, fists on hips in the doorway. But to Evie’s absolute horror, standing just behind her was Veronica Leighton.

Blood flooded into Evie’s face and her skin burned with embarrassment. Her shaming was total. She’d not felt as humiliated since she was four and had wet her knickers at nursery school.

There was a moment’s silence, as Evie longed to wind the clock back, then Aunty Mimi rushed into the room, snatched the gown from her hands and took it back into the dressing room.

As Evie stammered, searching for something to say, Veronica Leighton, leaned against the doorpost and drawled, ‘You look like you need a stiff gin, darling. Why don’t I get Benny to mix us some?’ At the top of the stairs she called back to Evie. ‘And remind me to introduce you to that chap I mentioned so he can run you up a few frocks of your own.’ Pausing before she went down, she added pointedly, ‘In the right size, of course.’

Aunty Mimi emerged from the closet, gave Evie an angry look and headed for the door.

‘Aunty Mimi, I’m sorry. Please don’t mention this to Mr Barrington.’

Her humiliation was complete. Apologising to the servants. She’d be a laughing stock if Veronica heard that.

Wishing herself safely back in Hampshire, Evie struggled to rescue the situation. ‘I was just… you see…Mr Barrington… I…we…’ Should she tell Aunty Mimi she was soon to be married to Douglas? Of course she couldn’t. It wasn’t her place to do it and it might only make matters worse. Better to retire wounded and try to recover later once she was established as the new mistress of the house. Meanwhile, she must swallow her pride and pray that the housekeeper would say nothing to Douglas.

Aunty Mimi scowled and said, ’I no tell Mister. I keep secret. You not come in here again. Is private. Not your room.’ She wagged her finger in the air as if scolding a small child.

Relief flooded through Evie and she fled downstairs to the next ordeal – facing Veronica.

Mrs Leighton was in the drawing room, standing in front of the open French window, looking out onto the garden. She turned round and handed Evie a glass of gin and tonic, ice chinking.

‘Thank you, but isn’t it awfully early in the day to be drinking?’

‘You’re as bad as Arthur.’ Her laugh was false. ‘Anyway you look as if you need one. That’s always a good time to drink. Gin’s positively medicinal, darling.’

Evie took a tentative sip and felt inclined to agree. She sank onto the sofa. The alcohol went straight to her head, immediately easing her embarrassment. Veronica, with a graceful bending of the knees, lowered herself into a seat opposite, her long slim legs to one side. She sniffed the air. ‘Naughty girl! You’re wearing Felicity’s scent as well. Better make sure you shower it off before Dougie gets back. You don’t want to upset him.’ She shook her head solemnly and Evie felt herself blushing again.