The memory of the manner in which Douglas had left her that morning, his curtness after the tenderness of the night before, made her feel low again. But she was bigger than this. Bigger and stronger than those shallow people at the Penang Club, bigger and stronger than her volatile husband. Evie had a choice – either let Douglas wear her down and make her feel small and insignificant, or rise above his selfishness and find her own path. She wasn’t going to let him drag her down; she wasn’t going to let herself be a hapless victim.

Sitting here, legs dangling in the cool water, she made up her mind. It may not be the life she’d wanted, but it was so much better than her humdrum existence in Hampshire. Better even than being married to a man like Douglas back in Surrey, left at home while he commuted to the city. So what, if he was away from home for two weeks at a time? At least she wasn’t standing in a suburban kitchen instructing the cook, bored out of her mind, watching the rain through steamed-up windows.

She breathed in the sea air, felt the heat of the sun on her arms, splashed her legs about and gazed at the beautiful view. Penang was a paradise island, known as The Pearl of the Orient. How could she complain or feel sorry for herself when she had all this to look at and enjoy? She was beginning to acclimatise to the heat. Her role as Jasmine’s stepmother gave her purpose – the trust between her and the little girl was growing every day. She had a good friendship with Mary Helston, and in Dorothy Rogers and Susan Hyde-Underwood she’d met two other women whose company she enjoyed.

And Douglas? Yes, he had reverted to type this morning when she’d asked where he was going, but last night and first thing this morning he had been everything she’d hoped for. But didn’t that make it even harder? Having experienced another Douglas, it was so dispiriting to find the old one was still very much present.

Don’t dwell on the bad, she told herself. Focus only on the good and it will grow. He had shown desire for her – maybe it was to the idea of her as mother of his children – but nonetheless he had desired her. That was enough for now. She would do whatever she could to give him a son. She would never deny her bed to him again. And that meant she had to stop daydreaming about Arthur Leighton. He was a married man, out of bounds and she told herself not to confuse his kindness and interest in her with attraction.

Besides, it wouldn’t be only Douglas who would be pleased by her having a child – the thought of a baby of her own, flesh of her flesh, a little part of her, seemed the most desirable thing in the world to Evie, as she sat here in the sunshine.