out to the waiting carriage. The driver helped her inside and stowed her valise. As soon as her uncle settled himself beside his wife, they began to move.
She turned her head, drinking in her last glimpse of her beloved home. As they rounded a bend she strained until, at last, the little cottage slipped from view. She glanced up. Seeing her aunt’s penetrating stare, she bit her quivering lip until she tasted blood. She was determined that these two people would witness no further sign of weakness. But as she closed her eyes against the pain, she began to recall some of her treasured memories of her life with her gentle parents. They were not gone, she consoled herself; they Would live on forever in her mind.
Chapter Two
“Beggin’ yer pardon, m’lord.” Mistress Thomton swallowed twice while Lord Stamford looked up from the ledgers on his desk.
“What is it?”
“It’s about the lad.”
“What about him?”
The housekeeper shrugged. She’d been rehearsing this for days. But now that she was facing that dark, penetrating stare, words failed her.
“Well?” He was clearly exasperated. “Is he ill?”
“Nay, m’lord. But he...he has no one to look out for him,” she blurted.
“Then order a servant to see to it.”
“I have.” She saw him pick up his quill, and began talking faster. “I’ve told that saucy, dizzy-eyed baggage Edlyn to watch out for him. But she does no more than is necessary. And with her household duties as well, ‘tis easy to forget about one small boy. Especially one as quiet as that. And if I may say, m’lord, it isn’t good for a young lad to spend all his time in his room. He seems to have grown pale and...sickly.”
“Nonsense. I looked in on him last night. I found nothing wrong.” He returned his attention to the ledgers.
“There’s something else, m’lord.”
He waited, without looking up.
“The lad appears bright enough. But he needs to be educated.”
“You’re right, of course. Perhaps a monastery...?”
“Nay, m’lord. Why, he can’t be much more than four or five years.” She waited, hoping to be given an exact age. When Lord Stamford didn’t bother to respond, she added, “That’s much too young to be sent away.”
His tone was growing impatient. “Then what do you suggest, Mistress Thornton?”
“A nursemaid, m’lord. One who can be both nurse and teacher. It seems the most likely solution.”
“A nursemaid.” He seemed to weigh the thought for a moment, then nodded. “A governess. See to it.”
“But how, m’lord?”
He turned the page in the ledger and adjusted a candle for light. “However that sort of thing is done. Tell the servants to ask around. Perhaps someone in a nearby village or shire...”
“Most of them know little more than Edlyn, m’lord.” She thought a moment. “I have a cousin in London. Perhaps she could ask...”
“Excellent suggestion. See to it, Mistress Thornton.”
The housekeeper watched as he returned his attention to the accounts in the ledger.
A short time later, as the plump housekeeper made her way below stairs, she fretted that her duties seemed to increase with each passing day. Ever since Lord Stamford had returned, life had become extremely complicated.
London
Olivia descended the stairs of her aunt and uncle’s sumptuous house and followed the directions that had been given her by Letty, an elderly upstairs maid.
‘I knew at once who ye were, miss.” Letty’s smile was the first genuine smile she’d seen in days.
“And how would you know me?”
“Why, ye’r the image of yer mum when she was yer age.”
“You knew my mother?”
“Oh, yes, miss. She was so fine and sweet. All the servants missed her when she went away to marry her professor.”
“You mean my mother lived in this fine, big house?”
“Indeed. You didn’t know?”
Olivia was stunned. “She told me very little about her childhood. I sensed there were things that caused her pain.”
“She and her sister...” The servant thought better about what she’d been about to say and finished lamely, “...were very different.” She glanced aground uneasily. “You must go now, miss. You would not care to keep Lady Agatha waiting.”
“Thank you, Letty. I hope we can talk again later.”
“Aye, miss. I’d like that. Ye remind me of yer mum, ye do.”
“Thank you, Letty,” she called over her shoulder. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said.”
This was Olivia’s first chance to actually view the house, since her aunt had insisted upon confining her to the guest room with orders to remain there and even to take all her meals there. Olivia was more than willing, since their arrival had been a most unpleasant affair. Agatha had railed against the cold, driving rain, the lateness of the hour and even the fact that her sister and brother-in-law had inconvenienced her by dying at such a time as this. It had taken all of Olivia’s strength of will to hold her tongue through her aunt’s angry tirade.
If their journey was unpleasant, their arrival in London had been even worse. An elegant young woman in a pink gown that must surely have been made for a princess, had greeted her parents, not with a hug, but with a complaint that she was missing much-needed sleep. And when Olivia had been introduced to her cousin Catherine, the young woman’s manner had become even more abusive. Her features had become as twisted and bitter as those of her mother. Except for a curt nod, she had spoken not a word before going up to her room and leaving Olivia to fend for herself.
But it was a new day. Birds could be heard chirping outside the windows. Sunshine had chased away the clouds. Olivia decided to blame the short tempers on the unexpected turn of events. After all, if she was distraught over the loss of her parents, Agatha must be equally distraught over the death of her only sister. Surely after a few days of rest both Agatha and her daughter would have softened their attitude.
Olivia paused outside the dining room, breathing in the wonderful fragrance of freshly baked bread. From the sideboard steam could be seen rising from a silver tray heaped high with thinly sliced beef. A maid paused beside the table, ladling something from a silver urn.
With a wide smile upon her lips, Olivia brushed down the skirts of her simple gray gown. But as she took a step forward,
