Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
Keep Reading
About the Author
Also by Pam Weaver
About the Publisher
Muntham Court, 1920
Agatha stretched herself luxuriantly and lifted her face towards the early morning sun. Ah, she thought, this is the life. She was on the veranda and still in her nightgown and negligee, but she didn’t care. After yesterday, it was unlikely that anyone would call on her, not at this time of the morning anyway.
Following the evening celebrations the day before, Muntham Court was peaceful and quiet. Inside the house, a team of staff were busy cleaning and putting everything back in order, but she couldn’t hear them. The only sounds came from the doves – or was it pigeons (she would never get used to living in the country) – cooing on the rooftop and the odd bleat from one of the sheep in the field opposite the long drive.
Agatha smiled to herself. She had done it. Her mother said everything was lost but it wasn’t. She had secured her position in society at last and she couldn’t help feeling more than a little smug about it. She had it all. The big house, money, status . . . Of course it had come at a cost, but all that stress had ceased the moment she’d given birth to Charles’s baby. Her confinement and the birth had been straightforward, but he would never know. Better that he thought she had had a protracted and difficult delivery. Who would tell him anything different? They wouldn’t dare. She allowed herself a sly smile. No one could touch her now.
