Page 1

Chapter 1

Dear Lydia,

I hope you are doing well among the glittering society and require no further support from me. I know it must be frustrating to receive my messages and be unable to reply. I assure you that I will find a permanent position soon, and we will be able to exchange letters freely.

Please do not worry about me. Although my search for a job is taking a little longer, I have a lot of prospects. I am sure to have a cozy position as a governess to a well-behaved young girl or a companion to a kind-hearted dowager soon.

The countryside here is so peaceful compared to London’s chaos, and I find myself breathing easier with each passing day, especially knowing that he can’t find me here.

I do understand your insistence on staying among the ton, and I do not fault you for that. On the contrary. I wish you all the success. And when you’ve secured enough wealth for us to leave this country behind, do let me know.

Until then, I’ll be living a quiet, unremarkable life here in the country.

Love,

Honor

Caldwell Manor, Devonshire - 1818

Honoria stood before the large oak desk with an equally large earl sitting behind it. The Earl of Caldwell’s study wasn’t small. In fact, it was the largest one she’d ever seen, except the earl had crammed himself into the smallest, darkest corner, forcing Honoria to turn her back on most of the space. As a result, the place seemed cramped, dark, and suffocating. And whatever space was left seemed to be swallowed up by the owner’s imposing frame.

Or perhaps, it was her nerves that made everything feel distorted. Even oxygen seemed to be lacking in this dark, lifeless corner.

It didn’t help that Lord Caldwell was frowning down at her letter of recommendation, a pair of spectacles perched on his nose, his expression dark and menacing, as though he could see through every lie she’d crafted to secure this position. The shadow he cast on the wall behind him made him appear even larger, more ominous—devilish even. His open collar, the absence of a cravat, a scruffy beard, and dark, tousled hair only heightened the effect.

And his eyes… there in the shadows they looked almost completely black.

Honoria looked away toward the sunny part of the study. A line of light divided the room, keeping this corner in the shadow while the rest of the study flourished. It was a separate world out there.

A large desk stood by two windows. Even though both were covered by heavy, dirt-brown curtains, a streak of light escaped, illuminating the desk, which was in complete disarray. Piles of papers lay on top of each other in a haphazard manner—journals, pencils, wooden tools, and strange-looking brass equipment. A bit farther from the desk, the cabinets stretched along the wall, reaching down to the corner where Honoria stood.

Her eyes drifted to the part of the cabinet closest to her. She could just make out labels behind the glass doors, lines of neat written words in dark ink. She squinted at one.

Urtica dioica.

She sounded it out in her head. Urtica. It was a Latin word that meant sting. She wasn’t certain of the second word, but together they sounded familiar. It stirred something at the back of her mind. A plant, maybe? She wasn’t sure.

Her gaze moved lower. Another label read Epipremnum aureum—that one she knew.

Devil’s ivy.

She glances back to the man behind the desk. Fitting.

The earl still sat unmoving, his eyes locked on her letter, not even blinking. Was he even reading? Or had he read enough? Had he identified her lies and was just torturing her with his silence? She hoped he was simply lost in his thoughts.

She needed this job, or she would have nowhere to sleep tonight. She’d traveled a long time to get here, and the road back to town was impassable. She was tired, scared, and hungry.

Her stomach rumbled in agreement, and she pressed her hands flat against her belly, as if that would quiet the rumbling.

She also doubted the forbidding earl would take pity on her and offer her any food or a ride back to town if he failed to hire her, although she could not exactly read his expression as he still hadn’t raised his head and hadn’t spoken either. He’d been staring at her letter of recommendation in silence for a long time now.

It did not have that much information on it.

Honoria squinted in the dark room. What if he’d forgotten she was there at all? He had probably spent the previous night drinking to the point of passing out and was now too sleepy to function. Honoria knew gentlemen like that. Too many gentlemen like that.

She fought the shudder.

Should she make herself known? Make some sort of noise to get his attention? Would that hurt her chances of getting the job?