Everything was going with a swing as Cook played the piano, belting out popular songs, many from the war years, and Betsy, two of the maids and the gardener did a kind of jig. All had drunk too much and were clowning about, when Harold suddenly took hold of Betsy and danced around the floor with her.

Mags tried not to take much notice, but saw a look on Betsy’s face that showed everything wasn’t right. When the dance ended, Harold left the room.

Betsy announced that she had to go home to make sure her family were all settled. ‘Now, mind you don’t party too long. And I want this lot and the wedding-breakfast room all cleared away – and the evening buffet prepared and laid out – by the time I return.’

Alf, the gardener, expressed his disappointment. ‘Aw, Betsy lass, we’re meant to have a bit of slack today. It’s only early afternoon yet. I thought as we’d go on till six at least.’

‘You can, Alf – and all of you – but I have a family to see to.’

Harold returned at that moment and Betsy, looking embarrassed, suddenly said, ‘Now afore I go, raise your glasses to our master and mistress and let’s wish them a very happy life together.’

The toast lightened the moment, but Mags, who knew Betsy so well, was sure that something had been said to upset her. Going to her side, she asked, ‘Are you all right, Betsy, love? This departure seems very sudden.’

Before Betsy could answer, Harold was at their side. ‘Well, thank you, Betsy, for everything today. We are sorry you have to go, for my wife and I thought to spend an hour with you all. Now, everyone – thank you for your toast to my own and my beautiful wife’s happiness. I have a toast of my own. A thank you to Mrs Bainwright, and to you all. You have done us proud today.’

Using Betsy’s married name had sounded cold and as if Harold was putting her in her place. Mags hadn’t known what to do as Betsy turned and left the moment she’d raised her glass and said thank you.

The incident had marred the day for Mags, though Harold had soon had her smiling again, once the evening party got under way. He’d been attentive and loving, the perfect husband, and that had continued when they’d reached her sitting room, where a tray was laid for them with champagne and nibbles to hand.

Mags turned over now and sighed. Her body still felt heightened, having given her so much pleasure in the arms of Harold, whose lovemaking had been exquisite, taking her to places she never dreamed possible. And then chatting, drinking champagne and doing it all over again, with an abandonment that had her crying out her joy and fulfilment.

She was being silly to think anything could mar that. Betsy was probably still cross from the incident that had happened the last time Harold was here – whatever that was. And she couldn’t blame Betsy. She must have felt awkward, too, knowing that I knew about it, and didn’t want to upset me. Yes, that’s all it was. Well, Betsy and Harold had no need ever to be in each other’s company again. Betsy had decided she wouldn’t appear in the front of the house in future, and Harold wouldn’t ever think of visiting the servants’ quarters. All would work out fine.