‘You are not returning to work today, are you, my dear?’ Arabella asked wearily. ‘Surely you will allow yourself one day of rest after the long journey.’

‘Nonsense. Of course I must. I’m not a gentleman of leisure, Arabella. Thanks to the rebellion my position with the East India Company is no longer tenable, and I need to re-establish myself in my old practice. Heaven knows what state it’s in financially after leaving Harte in charge for three years.’

Kate toyed with the buttered eggs on her plate. She was not hungry, but she knew it would cause a fuss if she did not eat.

‘I thought you trusted Peregrine Harte, Papa.’

Sir Bartholomew shot her a warning glance. ‘This has nothing to do with you, Katherine.’

‘But he’s such a nice young man,’ Arabella said timidly. ‘You always spoke highly of him, my dear.’

‘Niceness doesn’t necessary equate with efficiency, Arabella. But I wouldn’t expect either of you to understand anything about business. That’s my prerogative, and I intend to go to Lincoln’s Inn this morning and surprise Harte and the rest of those who work for me. They will have to account for themselves if I’m not satisfied with their performance.’ Sir Bartholomew folded his newspaper and laid it on the table as he rose from his seat. ‘Don’t allow the servants to dispose of this – I’ll study it later, after dinner. By the way, I have a fancy for lamb collops – tell Cook – and apple pie with custard. I want proper English food again.’

‘Yes, dear. I’ll speak to Cook this morning.’

Kate waited until her father had left the dining room. ‘Why do you let him speak to you like that, Mama?’

‘It’s just his way.’ Arabella turned away to dab her lips on her white damask table napkin, but not before Kate had seen her mother’s eyes redden with unshed tears.

‘You have allowed him to bully you, and now he does it all the time.’

‘He is the head of the household, Kate, dear. You will have to give in to your husband when you marry. It’s how things are done.’

Kate pushed her plate away. ‘Not by me, Mama. If a man tried to dominate me like that I would not put up with it.’

A wan smile curved Arabella’s lips. ‘So you say now, but it’s different once you have a wedding ring on your finger. Your husband will own you and all that you possess, and any children you may be lucky enough to have will belong to him. That’s the law, and I don’t think it will ever change, because men make up the rules and we women have to abide by them.’