This lack of intimate contact denied me a suitable opportunity to reveal my dilemma to him. I had no wish to be overheard by servants or to arouse the suspicions of those below stairs so I kept silent, nursing my secret. My waist was beginning to thicken and I knew that my hidden shame would soon be evident to the world and the gossips who dwelt in the attic rooms and looked down their noses at me – a lady who has been forced by poverty into sharing their servitude – would revile me as the worst kind of sinner: a magdalen; a fallen woman. How ever, I hoped and prayed that when all was revealed Sir Frederick would share the responsibility for my fall from grace and offer me his protection – even, I dared hope, the honour of marriage. One evening when I was taking dinner with Sir Frederick, a new maidservant upset a glass and hurried out to fetch a cloth to wipe up the spill. All the servants being absent from the room, we were at last alone and I could contain myself no longer.
