Evie’s heart sank at the prospect. Would the party include any of those awful people she’d met at the club on her wedding day? She didn’t think she could survive a whole evening with the likes of them. ‘Who have you invited?’ she asked, curtly.

‘One of the inspectors for Guthrie’s and Reggie Hyde-Underwood – his wife is in the hospital over in Butterworth. They’ve just had a boy.’ His mouth twitched.

‘That’s wonderful news. What have they called him?’

Douglas looked away. ‘You’ll have to ask him that.’

This reminder of what had happened between them made Evie nervous. She didn’t know how to behave around Douglas any more. Not that she ever had.

‘Oh and the Leightons.’

She’d expected as much. ‘The man from Guthrie’s what’s his name? And what is Guthrie’s?’

‘Rogers. Clifford Rogers. His wife will be with him. Don’t know her name.’

‘And Guthrie’s?’

‘One of the big rubber companies.’

‘But I thought you said you own your estates directly.’

Douglas sighed pointedly. ‘Don’t ask so many damned questions, Evie. Everyone knows everyone here. As the chief inspector for all Guthries’ estates throughout the Straits, Rogers knows the lie of the land. I want to talk to him. It’s called doing business. I expect you to keep his wife happy while we do that.’

Evie swallowed, feeling battered. ‘And the Leightons? Why will they be here?’

Douglas’s eyes narrowed. ‘Because Arthur is my friend.’ The sub-text was that it was not her place to ask why. But as an evident afterthought, he added, ‘And because I suspect Clifford Rogers will want to pick Arthur’s brains about the political situation. As I said, it’s called “Doing Business”. Your part in that is merely to keep his wife entertained. Surely that’s something even you can manage?’

It was like a slap in the face. She burned with suppressed rage. What right did he have to treat her this way? As if he resented her for his own bad behaviour.

That night, after a silent supper, during which Evie felt too intimidated and angry to attempt conversation, she told Douglas she was going to bed early and went straight up to her bedroom. She sat in bed reading, finding it hard to concentrate on the words on the page as her head whirled with all the things she wished she’d said to him but had been too afraid to utter.

About five minutes after she’d turned off the light and turned over onto her side to sleep, she heard the bedroom door open and Douglas’s footsteps crossing the wooden floor. Furious, Evie pulled the sheet up over her ears and called out. ‘Go away! I don’t want to be with you.’

She heard the sharp intake of breath. ‘Damn it, Evie. You’re my wife. We talked about all this. I ask little enough of you.’

He reached a hand out to pull back the sheet on his side of her bed.

‘I meant what I said. I won’t be treated this way.’