‘It’s what I’ve been praying for,’ she said. ‘Darling Hugo,’ she added. ‘How marvellous for him to be a father. This calls for champagne—although you won’t be able to have any, Alice dear. The doctors these days say no alcohol during pregnancy, and we mustn’t take any risks with your precious cargo.’

      Allie stared at her, rigid with disbelief. ‘Lady Marchington,’ she said. ‘What are you talking about? You know quite well that Hugo—that he can’t—’

      ‘Don’t be absurd, dear.’ Grace Marchington’s mouth was still smiling, but her eyes were slate-hard as they met Allie’s, in a warning as explicit as it was uncompromising. ‘Of course he can. He’s your husband, and you’ve finally done your duty as his wife. It only took time and patience, as I always told him.’ She became brisk. ‘Now, let’s have no more foolishness, and start to make plans. I know an excellent gynaecologist.’