‘I’m sure you do, and I’m perfectly happy to take your advice, but if you’ll take a tip from me – it’s not done for servants to speak to their masters or mistresses unless they are spoken to first. Even then it’s best to keep one’s opinions to oneself. I’m only telling you this so that you don’t lose what might be a good job.’

Fletcher glared at her for a few seconds and then her stern features cracked into a half-smile. ‘That’s a polite way of telling me to keep me trap shut. I got you.’ She selected a pale pink afternoon gown. ‘You don’t want to look even more washed out than you are. Sorry to be so bold, ma’am.’

‘No, you’re right. That will do nicely. Thank you, Fletcher.’

‘Strip off, then, ma’am. We’ll get you tidied up and ready to socialise.’

Rosalind took off her blouse and skirt and stood, shivering in her undergarments. Fletcher eyed her speculatively. ‘You’ve given birth not so long ago.’

‘Yes, I have a beautiful baby girl, but I had to leave her with a wet nurse.’

‘I had a baby but she died young. That’s what happens when you live like what I done and go for days without food. You’re lucky, ma’am.’ Fletcher dropped the gown over Rosalind’s head, dressing her as if she were a helpless child. ‘You don’t want to stay here too long, ma’am. London ain’t the place for you. Take it from one who knows.’ She fastened the tiny buttons at the back of Rosalind’s bodice with surprisingly nimble fingers for one who had such large hands. ‘There you are, ma’am. Now sit down and I’ll do your hair. We don’t want to send you downstairs looking as if you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards, now, do we?’

‘Thank you, Fletcher.’ Rosalind sighed. ‘It looks as if I’m going to need your help to survive in London society.’

‘That’s right, ma’am. If anyone does you down you just tell Cora Fletcher. They won’t argue with me. Now take a seat at the dressing table, if you please.’

Twenty minutes later Rosalind entered the drawing room to find Patricia seated at a small table with a dainty afternoon tea spread out before her.

‘You took your time, but you certainly look better now. Did Fletcher put your hair up?’

‘Yes, she has surprisingly clever fingers. I thought I might be scalped, but she’s very capable.’

‘Don’t let her talk to you like an equal, Rosie. She has to learn her place or she’ll end up back on the streets. Remember, she is an experiment.’

‘Yes, indeed. Are those cucumber sandwiches? They smell delicious.’

‘You need to eat. You look as if you’ve been starving yourself and it isn’t becoming.’