Chapter One
England, 1839
Adorna Viscountess Ruskin, looked at the ornate lettering
on the calling card in her gloved hand, then up at the tall
limestone townhouse. In London's overcast March sunlight,
the place looked respectable, if slightly shabby, and while
this neighborhood had been fashionable in the days of
Adorna's youth thirty years before, many of England's best
families still lived along this street. That information
allowed her hope.
Tucking the calling card into her pocketbook, she mounted
the steps and rang the bell. At once the door opened.
A butler stood there, a proper butler of the old school in
a powdered wig and knee breeches. He summed her up in a
single, comprehensive glance. His summation produced a bow
so obsequious his corset creaked, and in an accent that was
almost more upper class than young Queen Victoria's, he
said, "How may I help you, madam?"
"I am Viscountess Ruskin."
From his expression, she knew he recognized her name,
although whether for her wealth, her connections or her
notoriety, she didn't know. Nor did she care. Adorna had
long ago grown into her role as the most beautiful woman in
England.
Taking a step back to allow her entrance, he said, "My lady
Ruskin, we at Miss Setterington's Distinguished Academy of
Governesses are honored."
As she stepped inside, she smiled at him with the
admiration she showed every man, regardless of his rank or
age. "And you are?"
A dark flush started beneath his cravat and dyed his cheeks
and forehead, but his demeanor never changed. "I am
Cusheon, my lady."
"Cusheon. What a lovely name."
The creaky old butler's lips lifted everso slightly. "Thank
you, my lady."
"There's that smile. I knew you had one." Adorna enjoyed
coaxing cheer out of the sourest puss. "Cusheon, I've come
to speak to the proprietors of this establishment."
He snapped his fingers and a towheaded serving boy ran
forward to accept her hat and coat. With her thumb, she
rubbed a smudge off his chin. "You look very much like my
son at your age," she said. "Right down to the flour."
"I've been helping Cook with the baking," the lad said.
"Wynter used to do that, too," she confirmed, and
reluctantly let him go. So many changes had occurred in her
life lately. Changes were good, of course. Of course they
were.
"Miss Hannah Setterington is currently assisting a
countess," Cusheon said, "but if you would allow me, I will
see if they have concluded their business."
"Thank you. That is most acceptable." While the butler made
his stately way across the foyer, she assessed her
surroundings. Although the tables were oldfashioned,
everything here sparkled with polish and smelled of
beeswax. Impressive. Very well tended. She relaxed
infinitesimally.
The butler rapped on massive double doors and, at a call
from within, entered. He returned almost at once. "Miss
Hannah Setterington and the countess have concluded their
business. If my lady would come this way?"
As they neared the office, an elderly woman, stooped,
heavily veiled and wrapped against March's chill, stepped
into the foyer on the arm of a tall woman. In a creaking
voice, the countess said, "Miss
Setterington, I am delighted with the companion you found
me. You may be assured of my continued patronage."
This was Miss Setterington? Startled, Adorna studied the
young woman in black bombazine. She hadn't expected the
proprietress to be so lacking in years, yet Miss
Setterington's easy manner bespoke experience in dealing
with the peevish and crotchety. Indeed, she patted the
gloved hand on her arm as she handed the countess over to
Cusheon. "Thank you, my lady. We are always anxious to be
of service." With a smile and a curtsy, she turned to
Adorna. "And we are anxious to be of service to you, too,
my lady. If you would come into the office. . ."
Adorna studied the old woman as she hobbled past, then
followed Miss Setterington into a well-appointed library. A
fire burned in the fireplace, the Aubusson carpets were
clean if well worn and oiled leather books filled the
shelves. "I thought I knew every titled person in England,"
Adorna said, "but I don't remember that countess."
"Lady Temperly travels abroad extensively," Miss
Setterington answered. "That was why she had difficulty
finding a companion. So many young people today want to
stay only in England."
"Lady Temperly." The name was familiar. "No, I don't think
I've ever had the pleasure." Although it seemed Adorna had
recently heard gossip about her. But she didn't have time
to worry about the elderly Lady Temperly. Her own personal
crisis beckoned.
Miss Setterington offered a chair set before a delicate
walnut writing desk, and Adorna settled into it.
The desk, too, was old-fashioned, well crafted and well
tended, with a bottle of ink, a penknife and a pile of well-
made pens. Files of every sort stood in stacks on its
surface. As Miss Setterington rounded the desk to her
chair, Adorna cocked her head to read the notations.
Marchioness Winokur, proclaimed one. Baroness Rand, read
another. The knowledge that she was not the first to
utilize the Distinguished Academy for Governesses offered
comfort. "I rely on your discretion, of course, Miss
Setterington."
Miss Setterington seated herself in a delicate chair and
reached for an empty file. "Of course, my lady."
"I need a governess." When Miss Setterington would have
spoken, Adorna held up her hand. "Not just any governess. I
find myself in quite an unusual situation, and the woman I
would hire must be of strong moral fiber and unyielding
determination."
"That would be Lady Charlotte Dalrumple," Miss Setterington
replied instantly.
Adorna studied Miss Setterington, wondering if she was a
fool.
"You doubt me, my lady, for my seemingly thoughtless
reply," Miss Setterington continued, "but if I were to
espouse two phrases to describe Lady Charlotte Dalrumple,
they would be the phrases you chose. I suspect you have
heard of her through the success of her pupils. In the nine
years she has been a governess, she has taken six
incorrigible pupils and prepared them for their debuts.
Surely you heard how young Lord Marchant wished only for
dissipation and fought the necessity of taking his bow
before the queen?"
"Oh, yes!" Adorna had indeed heard the tale, and for the
first time in two weeks, hope blossomed in her...
© 2003-2026