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“Where is everyone?”

“The Duchess of Cadwallader has taken her daughters to meet the Queen.”

“The servants must have made themselves scarce,” said Fen dryly. She darted a shrewd look at her friend as they sat side-by-side. “Have you never thought about having a baby, Mathilde?” she asked cautiously.

Mathilde shook her head, her cheeks reddening. “Never,” she whispered.

“Did neither of your previous husbands want children?”

“Oh no,” her friend replied looking shocked. “They were quite old. And besides, they did not like the children they already had. Which is why they wanted to marry me,” she added sadly.

Archie’s face scrunched up and he gave a whimper.

“Do not fret, dearest one,” murmured Mathilde. “For your mother will be returning ere long.”

Archie’s little stiffening body, relaxed and his chubby chin wobbled as he settled back against Mathilde’s bosom. She shot a look of triumph at Fen.

“You’re a natural,” Fen whispered and Mathilde turned quite pink with pleasure.

“He does seem to like me, does he not?”

“I should say,” agreed Fen. “The entire time I was holding him last night, his head kept swiveling round to look at me with positive outrage!”

Mathilde giggled, and lowered her face to kiss the slumbering baby’s brow.

His eyelids flickered open to look at her, then drifted back down again.

“You see,” said Fen. “He is quite content to be held by you.”

Mathilde gave a happy sigh. “I wish…” She began, but then closed her mouth again, without voicing her wish.

“Why don’t you?” asked Fen curiously.

“You forget, I have never even met Lord Martindale,” Mathilde pointed out stiltedly. “We were married by proxy. And he – that is – I have heard…,” she broke off agitatedly.

“But you are married,” pointed out Fen frowning in puzzlement. “Why should you not have a baby, if you want one?”

Mathilde shook her head. “No, it is quite impossible,” she said.

Just then, the door latch sounded, making her friend almost guiltily.

It was Linnet’s maid Gertie, looking deeply apologetic. “I’m so sorry!” she began, then did a double-take, seeing her young master asleep. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. “However did you manage it?” she whispered, dropping her hands and tiptoeing across the floor. “He was in a rare taking when we left.” Fen and Mathilde exchanged glances.

“It was Mathilde,” admitted Fen. “It seems babies adore her.”

“He’s such a good baby, though,” said Mathilde warmly.

Gertie looked surprised by this pronouncement. “That’s what the mistress always says!” she said doubtfully. “But hardly anyone ever agrees with her!”

It was a good hour later that Meldon announced that Lady Schaeffer had arrived. Fen looked up from where she was crouched on the floor rolling walnuts to Archie. He squealed, picked them up and mouthed them before dropping them again and waiting patiently for the next one.

Hester grimaced. “I’m not overly fond of children,” she announced, casting a dubious eye over Archie.

“Oh, since his nap he’s been quite congenial,” Fen assured her, clambering to her knees. Mathilde picked up a walnut and commenced rolling duties.

“Where’s his nurse?” asked Hester disapprovingly as she sat in a chair.

“We’ve been keeping him tolerably amused while the servants unpack the Cadwallader things,” explained Fen.