A wry smile curved Hester’s lip. ‘If Tobias turned out to be like his father, I wouldn’t want to know him.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘I lost my child because I had no choice. You need to be very careful how and when you give the good news to your husband.’

Rosalind nodded. ‘It’s a shock to me, too. I was beginning to think that I would be childless. I know Piers blamed me, and perhaps that was why he spent so much time away from home.’

‘That may be so, but now you must concentrate on looking after yourself.’

‘Yes, I will.’ Rosalind reached for a slice of toast. ‘I think I’ll ask Mrs Jackson to make porridge for tomorrow’s breakfast, or maybe you could do it for me, Hester.’

‘Of course I will. You always loved my porridge.’ Hester rose to her feet. ‘Thinking of children reminds me of Nancy. I left her with Tilly, who seems to have taken a liking to the child.’

‘She had a fever last night.’

‘It had gone by morning. I think she was simply exhausted and overworked. You might like to spend time with her. You could teach her to read and write and I’ll introduce her to kitchen work when she’s a bit stronger.’

‘You’re right. I need something to occupy my mind and she seemed to be a bright little thing, no matter what Mrs Shaw says.’

Rosalind spent the next few days getting to know Nancy, who made a quick recovery and blossomed under the influence of kindness and good food. Meggie Brewer, the dressmaker, was sent for and she measured Nancy for new clothes, including a plain print work dress to wear when she started helping in the kitchen. It was not Rosalind’s intention to have such a small girl working long hours, but if she was to have a future in service Nancy had to start somewhere. Rosalind ordered two more gowns for herself as well as a couple of skirts and several blouses. Already she could see a very slight difference in her figure and she had to confide in Meggie, who was obviously thrilled with the news. Rosalind remembered keeping Meggie’s daughter Eliza amused while Patsy had a fitting for a gown more than two years previously and clearly motherhood suited Meggie. Rosalind could only hope that she herself would fall into the role as easily.

Less than a week after Alexander’s departure for Cornwall Tilly came rushing into the morning parlour where Rosalind was attempting to teach Nancy her letters.

‘Mrs Blanchard, ma’am. The barouche has arrived. Gurney has driven it to the front door.’

Chapter Eleven