Raising the glass to her lips, Catharina drinks deeply.

‘Sin loves vanity. Our pastor says so. It is our duty to show things just as they really are – unvarnished, free of elaboration. Have you read this?’

She pulls a pamphlet from her coat pocket. It is a copy of the one Anna has hidden in her bundle. Catharina holds the pamphlet up to her face as if it is a mirror.

‘I drew this likeness myself.’ She tilts the pamphlet one way then the other. ‘It is an honest reproduction, don’t you think? I am as God made me. The words are, I grant you, a little florid. But then, I did not write them.’

Her expression changes suddenly. She frowns, her gaze darkening, and Anna guesses she is thinking of Margriet. She is wise enough not to ask, although her insides burn with curiosity. It’s a wicked sin to pry into other people’s business. Her mother always said so. But Anna knows her mother was as guilty of listening to church gossip as the next parishioner. She stifles a yawn, thinking longingly of bed. Catharina, noticing, calls for Mrs Hartog to take Anna upstairs and the woman appears in the doorway, clasping a guttering candle.

As Anna starts to say goodnight, Catharina interrupts her. ‘You’re not to disturb me when I am painting. If I need your help, I will ask for it. Although for what reason I would need the assistance of a poor orphan remains a mystery.’

Anna watches her pour her third cup of wine, her hand trembling on the handle of the carafe. Although surrounded by wealth, she cuts a lonely figure in front of the fire. Is this why I’ve been summoned? Anna thinks. To warm up this cold woman? To distract her from her melancholy?

What if she fails? Will they throw her out? How much time does she have to win Catharina over?

Stomach churning with nerves, she follows the housekeeper up the stairs to her new bedroom. The gabled room is more like a guest room than a servant’s dwelling. There is a soft, feather bed and a set of combs on a polished vanity. The damask curtains are already drawn, blocking out the cold. In the hearth, a well-tended fire sends a plume of smoke up the bricked chimney, the smog sweetened by scented herbs. From the special touches and rich linens, it’s clear Anna is not to be treated as a common chambermaid. She wishes the mother from the water coach could see her now.