‘Then I will reply to her and say that you have volunteered. Perhaps you can begin tomorrow.’

‘Yes,’ said Bel as the maid served her coffee.

After breakfast, Bel took a walk around the gardens, deep in thought. At least the mosaic would give her something positive to spend her time doing, because here, it was obvious she was never going to be mistress of her own household. Even though Luiza had thrown her a bone by telling her how the household accounts ran, she continued to organise everything herself. If Bel made a suggestion for the dinner menu, it would be rejected, and when she’d attempted to ask yesterday if they could use the Limoges dinner service rather than the Wedgwood, she was told that it only came out for family celebrations such as birthdays and anniversaries.

Every day, Gustavo would disappear off to his club straight after lunch, which meant she spent endless hours of the afternoon alone. Her stomach gave a sudden lurch – so what was she going to do about this afternoon?

By lunchtime, Bel was in a state of frenzy. At half past one, she called for the car.

‘Luiza,’ she said, when she found her writing letters in the drawing room, ‘I am off to see Madame Duchaine in the city. Loen will accompany me. I may be some time as she’s fitting me for my winter wardrobe.’

‘Well, I hear she’s very costly and her stitching can sometimes be clumsy. I can give you the name of another dressmaker who is far less expensive and very reliable.’

‘As a matter of fact, Madame Duchaine has always done an excellent job for me,’ Bel retorted. ‘I will see you at dinner, Luiza.’

Without waiting for her mother-in-law’s look of surprise that Bel had actually dared question her judgement, she walked towards the door and pinned on her hat.

Loen was already waiting there for her. ‘Well?’ she whispered as they walked towards the car.

‘I don’t know,’ she groaned.

‘Then we shall go to Madame Duchaine’s and if you decide to feign a headache, I will follow your lead,’ Loen said as they climbed into the car. The driver set off, Bel staring sightlessly out of the window, her heart pounding so hard against her chest she felt it might burst open.

When they arrived at Madame Duchaine’s, Bel and Loen climbed out of the car.

‘There’s no need for you to wait, Jorge,’ Bel told the driver. ‘I will be some time. Please return and collect me at six.’

‘Yes, senhora.’

She watched him pull away from the kerb, then entered the salon with Loen.

Ten minutes later, Bel found herself staring blankly at her reflection in the full-length mirror, her mind in turmoil, while Madame Duchaine fussed around her with a tape measure and pins. She was still in an agony of indecision, her stomach churning. If she didn’t make her mind up soon, it would be too late anyway.

Madame Duchaine stood up and moved behind Bel, surveying her handiwork in the mirror over Bel’s shoulder. As her beady eyes reached Bel’s face, she frowned.