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were I in your shoes, you sweet girl, it’s always like that the very first time,” Lady Fordham reassured her. “But no, the world has not gone mad, although in matters of love sometimes it will seem very topsy-turvy – just like Alice in Wonderland! Which reminds me,” and the beautiful, dark-haired woman gave a conspiratorial little laugh, “when we are alone together, you must always call me Alice. Now will you give me a kiss before I go?”
    Kate put her heart and her soul into the kiss she gave the older woman. Their lips parted, their tongues intertwined, danced and duelled. They met, woman to girl, mistress to employee, but still equals in this long, honest embrace.

Chapter Two

    Alice Fordham woke the next morning in the best of moods. But it did not last long. The housekeeper, Mrs Beveridge, knocked on her bedroom door and was now interrupting her ladyship’s breakfast to tell her that Miss Spencer, the new governess, had packed her bags, if you please, and was waiting in the morning room for Lady Fordham and Sir Bradley to come down, as she wanted to give her notice.
    Her mistress steepled her fingers under her chin and thought.
    “Stupid girl,” she said finally, to no one in particular. “Get me my writing case, will you please, Mary?”
    Mrs Beveridge, a hatchet-faced woman in her early fifties, gave a superior little smile and brought the shagreen and rosewood case over to her mistress’s bed. Alice wrote rapidly in pencil on a sheet of notepaper, folded it twice and handed it to the housekeeper.
    “Give that to Jenks. He’ll know what to do. And Mary…”
    “Yes, M’lady?”
    “No one must know of this.”
    “Very good, M’lady.”
    Of course, once outside her mistress’s room, Mary Beveridge read the note that Lady Fordham had written. After all, if she had not sealed it, it was fair game, she reasoned to herself. The housekeeper’s eyebrows rose a little and she tut-tutted quietly to herself. Wearing a thin little smile, she placed the note in her reticule and hurried off to find the butler.
    * * * * *
    Alice, pale, tearful and trembling slightly, knew that she was doing the right thing. How could she possibly continue in the position of a governess if she had had carnal knowledge of both her employer and her pupil? The only choice open to her was that of handing in her notice. Surely Alice… Lady Fordham… would persuade her husband to give her a good reference? After all that had happened she had to understand.
    As Alice and her husband entered the room, a pale and wan Kate rose shakily to her feet. They appeared more concerned than angry, she thought, slightly relieved. She hoped that the interview would be brief. She would stay in a hotel in Windsor until she could ascertain whether the kind, neighbourly Belfonts would have her back until she could find another post. She felt sure that they would…
    “Oh Kate, I’m so sorry that you feel you cannot stay with us.”
    Alice Fordham contrived to look aggrieved, concerned and sad at the same time. Her husband leant his arm on the mantelpiece and, one foot on fender, fixed her with a sympathetic look and tugged at his moustache.
    “Dashed shame, Miss Spencer. Hoped you might stay with us a bit longer, what?”
    There was a pregnant pause while they waited for Kate to respond. She could think of nothing appropriate to say. Merely by glancing at Alice, her head immediately filled with images of the last night’s unnatural lesbian couplings she had enjoyed with her and her daughter. Sir Bradley smiled at her encouragingly as if urging her to speak, perhaps to reconsider. What a kindly man! A new pang of guilt shot through her very core. And this was how she chose to repay his kindness – by such filthy, lewd, disgusting behaviour – the behaviour of a common street prostitute.
    Just as she was about to deliver her agonised and passionately sincere response, Jenks came in with only the most peremptory of knocks, went straight up to