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The elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Clarke, has been exceedingly kind in acquainting me with the workings of the household. I find myself growing quite fond of her and the children, though I must remind myself not to form attachments that will make my eventual departure more difficult.

On a more cheerful note, I have, at last, found a house I am in a position to arrange and decorate to my taste. The gardens here are magnificent. Perhaps the only truly lovely aspect of this otherwise somber place. I have taken to placing flowers in every room, in the hope of bringing a touch of brightness to the dreary manor.

I very much doubt the earl even notices my attempts to enliven his home, as he appears entirely indifferent to matters of comfort or beauty.

Pray write soon and tell me of your adventures in society. Have you made any progress with our plans? I think of our future often, especially on those long nights when this grand house feels particularly desolate. I long for the day when we may leave these shores behind.

Love,

Honor

Caldwell Manor, A week later…

The days since Honoria’s unexpected hiring had been a blur of introductions, schedule adjustments, and learning the rhythm and cadence of Caldwell House. The housekeeper, Mrs. Clarke, was a kind elderly woman who had made Honoria feel at home. She was happy to pass on many of her duties to Honoria’s hands. It was obvious that she was preparing Honoria to take over, and that made Honoria feel like a fraud.

She would not be staying in this household forever. She couldn’t. She needed to leave England—not now, but eventually. Every day she spent on English soil, she risked being found out. Besides, she’d never planned on staying a servant forever, no matter how kind a household she ended up in. Even if she did, Lydia would not allow that. A maid in her early years, she had promised herself never to return to servant life. And she vowed not to let Honoria get stuck doing it either.

Honoria wouldn’t have minded staying on in a kind and loving household. But since the eldest ward of the earl, Elise, was a few years away from making her debut, Honoria knew that even if her plans to leave England failed, her years in this particular household were numbered.

The least she could do was find the appropriate guidance for the children in the meantime, so when it came time to leave them behind, she could disappear with a clear conscience.

She glanced at Rosie, who was playing on the floor a few feet away, her back turned and hunched over a toy. Her brown locks gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the tall sitting room windows. Smiling, she turned her attention back to the woman she was interviewing for the position of Elise’s governess.

Mrs. Winters, a sturdy woman of about forty or fifty, with kind eyes and a gentle voice, was explaining her views on education and proper deportment for young ladies.

According to her application, Mrs. Winters had a lot of experience as a governess to numerous ladies for the past twenty years. She also had a soft, mothering presence and seemed to be the kind of woman who wouldn’t yell at her ward or punish her for doing something she perceived to be wrong. The pile of letters of recommendation agreed with Honoria’s assessment.

“I believe a young lady’s education should encompass both practical household knowledge and artistry,” Mrs. Winters said, straightening her already impeccable collar. “As a young woman, it is important for her to be able to sing, dance, play the piano or some other acceptable instrument, and display perfect manners, all of which would help her land a suitable gentleman when her time comes to face the ton. But she also should know how to hold a conversation in several languages, should be able to read the papers, and be interested in charitable projects.” She paused. “Needlework, of course, is essential.”

“And you would be able to teach her all that?”

“I am an all-around professional.” Mrs. Winters jerked her chin up. “And I can teach the basics of everything, however I specialize in manners and etiquette. I also hold a firm opinion that music and languages require a separate tutor. If need be, and in waiting for the other professionals to arrive, I can teach all that briefly. ”

Honoria nodded. She agreed. Not only because it was better to find the best professionals in each field for the best education, but also because it could become tiresome spending so much time with one individual. Moreover, having different tutors and mentors could help Elise to develop different interpersonal skills.

“Your letter of application indicates that you have experience with grieving children,” Honoria continued.

Mrs. Winters’ expression softened. “Five years with the Harrington family after they lost their mother. They had five children, and I was working with three of them at the time, aged fourteen, sixteen, and seventeen. I guided them all through this difficult time, successfully sent them off to the marriage mart, and watched them marry into beautiful families.”

“How wonderful.” Honoria smiled, although a bit of sadness clutched her chest. She wished she would be able to watch Elise brave the marriage mart. Perhaps, it was best if she didn’t become attached to the children at all. “Elise lost her parents about two months ago. She and her siblings came to live here with their uncle soon after, so the wound is still fresh. Would you take a different approach to teaching Elise based on this information?”

Mrs. Winters sat a bit straighter. “Grieving young ladies need structure and routine just like everyone else, perhaps even more so. I learned working with the Harrington girls that they needed some sort of stability in their lives, and they found it in their studies. And in this case, where they have lost both parents and have moved from their home, this might be the only stability they have left. Although at times, the youngest girl became maudlin and cried in the middle of the lesson. She needed a gentler approach. So I allowed her to take breaks and spend time doing something else for a while. I believe children express their grief differently. So I would not alter my approach with Elise at first. But there are always ways to find the approach that works.”

Honoria shifted in her seat. “What if one of her siblings becomes overwhelmed and upset while Elise is in the middle of a lesson? Would you allow Elise to comfort them?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Winters seemed almost offended by the question. “One of the hallmarks of a great mistress is her capacity for empathy. When the young lady grows up and runs her own household, she will be responsible not only for her children, but also for her servants and tenants. It is essential that she learn, from a young age, how to understand and tend to the needs of others.”

“Elise is very nurturing and protective over her siblings,” Honoria said.

“That is understandable.” Mrs. Winters nodded. “Losing one’s parents at a young age often turns the older sibling into a protector. It is important to realize however, that she is not the parent, and the burden to rear her siblings falls on her guardian and not her.”

Honoria winced inwardly. The earl was certainly willing to provide for the children financially, but he didn’t act as their parent, nor did he know how. That, of course, was the very reason he had engaged Honoria—to see that the children were surrounded by the finest staff, who might assume the responsibilities he was unwilling, or unable, to bear.

Honoria closed her ledger, satisfied. “I believe you’ll be a wonderful fit for Elise, Mrs. Winters. If you’d like to begin tomorrow morning, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

“Thank you very much.” Mrs. Winters stood. “I would be delighted to work with dear Elise.”

Honoria rose from the chair and turned toward Rosie. “Rosie, would you like to take a walk?”