She felt a sudden rebellion against her appearance, against the dull brown of her tweed suit, the colourless beige of her coat and the severity of her hair pinned back under the felt hat.
She had seen Madame Pelayo leave the house that morning in a coat of wine-coloured velvet trimmed with a huge collar and cuffs of rich sable and for the first time in her life Sheena had longed for beautiful clothes and to look elegant and soignée, like some of the other women who came to the Embassy.
She only had glimpses of them when she took the children down to the drawing room after tea or when Madame Pelayo and her friends came up to the nursery for a few moments, but they opened up vistas of a new world, a world where women were beautiful, fêted and admired.
Yet even dowdy and drab as she was th
