When a Cinderella Becomes a Lady (Preview)

Prologue

Montague Place

London 1810

The tall gentleman with a kind face gave the young girl a package to open. Her mama had always told her she must say thank you and show her happiness at receiving a present. She smiled at the gentleman and curtseyed as she took the gift in her hands. 

“Do you need any help with the ribbon?” he asked. 

“No,” she assured him. “Mama taught me how to tie and untie bows. I can manage.”

Her fingers swiftly undid the bow, and the brown paper and sealing wax came apart. Madeline looked in wonder at a book with the most beautiful yellow cover and a picture of a ship on the sea on the first page. 

“I had it made especially for you,” he told her. “Your mama had a book like this when she was a girl. She used to write her thoughts and dreams in it every day.”

“I remember Mama writing in her journal,” said Madeline, fingering through the pages in delight.

“And that’s a picture of a ship on the sea, like the ship that will take me to France in a few days’ time. I wanted you to remember me while I am away with the army in Spain,” he told her. She liked the way he talked with her, as if she was a grown-up and not a thirteen-year-old girl. 

“Will you be away for a year?” she asked.

“I think it might be several years,” he replied. “I will write to you as often as I can, and I will miss visiting Montague Place to see you.”

“I shall write in my journal, then when you return you can read it and find out what I have been doing,” Madeline told him. “Miss Carstairs says we shall learn all about Ancient Rome next, and it sounds very exciting.”

“Miss Carstairs is an excellent governess, and I know you will learn many new things with her. You can tell me all about ancient Rome when I return.” He took out another package from his pocket. “I almost forgot that I wanted to give you this pen as well. It is the pen I used when I was a boy in the school room, and I thought you might like to have it for your new journal.”

“Thank you, Uncle Miles,” she said, taking the wooden quill pen in excitement. “I’m going to be a writer,” she told him, her face very earnest for one so young. 

“I have some other news which I think you will like. I have asked your Aunt Agatha to come and live here to organize the household and look after you while I am away overseas. She has a little girl the same age as you called Rebecca. I’m hoping she will become like a sister for you.”

“A sister?” cried Madeline in excitement. “I’ve always wanted a sister, and after Mama and Papa died, I didn’t think I would ever have one. Will she arrive soon?”

“Your cousin, Rebecca, will arrive next week. It will be good for you to have Aunt Agatha to look after you.”

Madeline looked up at him, her green eyes shining in the sunlight and her chestnut ringlets bobbing up and down as she twirled around the room. “A sister, a sister,” she sang as she danced around the room. 

The gentleman smiled at his ward and felt a pang of sadness at the need to leave her so soon. She had lost her parents in a freak carriage accident on a stormy winter’s night a few months before, and he had been her guardian since. A tree had fallen across the road, causing the carriage to swerve out of control as Lord and Lady Addingham drove through Garstead Woods on their way home. He’d been left the guardianship of Lady Madeline Dunsmore and regretted the need to leave and join his regiment as Colonel-in-Chief so soon after taking on the role. 

The child’s Aunt Agatha had written to him, offering her services to look after the child. It sounded as though she was looking for a new home after being widowed the previous year. I hope they can look after each other and bring some happiness into their lives again, he thought. And Madeline is so excited at the prospect of having a sister. 

He could leave for the Iberian Peninsula, knowing his ward was in safe hands with Miss Carstairs and the oversight of her Aunt Agatha. Would she be a young lady when he returned to England? He didn’t expect to return until Napoleon Bonaparte was defeated. 

***

Lord Everidge was oblivious when, a month later, Miss Carstairs was dismissed from her post, and his ward became little more than a kitchen and chamber maid working for her Aunt Agatha.

Sometimes in her bedchamber at night, Madeline thought of her kind guardian who had given her the precious journal. Writing about her life and her dreams with the pen he had given her as a gift helped her live through the changes in her life, and keep a sense of her identity as Lady Madeline Dunsmore. 

Every week she chose a different book from the vast library, and read about history. I’ll be able to talk with Uncle Miles when he returns from France. I’ve found Spain and Portugal on the globe in the schoolroom. My Aunt Agatha won’t take my chance of an education away from me. Mama said education was the most important thing in life. 

During the day, she learned to endure the changing moods and dislike of her aunt. She had learnt to endure the pinches of her cousin, Rebecca, without crying out in pain. 

If I keep in the shadows, and do my work well, then Aunt tends to forget about me. 

The other servants had known her mother and father and were kind. Mrs. Farley, the housekeeper, shielded her from her aunt’s cruelty as much as possible. When her aunt and cousin were away from Montague Place, her fellow servants made sure Madeline had time to play the piano in the morning room. 

As her fingers found the notes on the keyboard, and she became absorbed by the music, the world around her always faded into the distance, and it became the only thing that mattered. She might have been up that day at six o’clock in the morning cleaning the grates and laying fires in the rooms downstairs, but when she played the pianoforte, she forgot what had happened in her life. 

“You play so beautifully,” said Mrs. Farley, the housekeeper, as she listened to Madeline play a song by Handel. “I remember your mama would sing that song.”

“She taught me to play it. I can still imagine her singing it,” Madeline told her.

“She had the most beautiful voice,” said Mrs. Farley. She put her hand on Madeline’s shoulders. “We all miss her ladyship. There was always music and laughter in this house when she was here.”

“I’ll keep playing the pianoforte as long as I can as it connects me with Mama,” replied Madeline.

The housekeeper looked at the girl, who was rapidly becoming a young lady, with a look brimming full of compassion. “Cook told me to tell you there is a batch of honey cakes in the kitchen. You should run along and try them. You know she’ll be disappointed if you don’t.”

“I’ll go now. Aunt Agatha and Rebecca will be back soon,” Madeline said, already on her way to the kitchen.

In the evenings, Madeline huddled by the fire in her room writing about each day and, increasingly, stories which came from her imagination. She sometimes dreamed that the kind gentleman returned, and her aunt and cousin Rebecca had been made to leave her home. 

Every morning, she woke in the darkness, dressed and brushed her hair, before going down the servant’s staircase to begin her chores for the day. She liked this time of day best, as most of the household was still asleep. One of the footmen lit the candles in the downstairs rooms in this darkest hour before dawn. Madeline could relax as she worked and forget about the intense anxiety that crept through her body whenever she saw her Aunt Agatha or Cousin Rebecca. 

Sometimes her emotions would overcome Madeline, and the mixture of sadness about her situation, and anger that her Aunt Agatha had made her a servant, depriving her of an education, made her want to scream in frustration.

I want to run away from Aunt Agatha. I want to tell her that I hate her, and I wish she would leave. How can she be here when Mama and Papa are gone? I’d like to pinch Rebecca back every time she pinches me instead of having to smile and not react to her vicious actions. 

 

Chapter One

Montague Place

March 1814

Madeline was in the hall, polishing a sideboard holding a display of fine Limoges porcelain, when an express arrived for Lady Agatha Dunsmore. That’s very unusual, Madeline thought, trying to remember when an urgent express message had ever arrived for her aunt before. 

The house was in turmoil as her aunt prepared for her daughter Rebecca’s coming out Season. This week there had been a stream of dressmakers, milliners, dancing instructors, and singing teachers. Madeline’s Aunt Agatha was determined that Rebecca would find a match and be settled and married at the end of her first Season. 

As Madeline polished the fine walnut wood, she remembered her mother talking about her own coming out Season and meeting Madeline’s father at her first ball. They had experienced that rare coup de foudre, a true love at first sight situation. Her mother had talked about how wonderful Madeline’s own coming out into society would be, and the ball they would have here at Montague Place. 

As an unpaid servant, Madeline knew she would never have a coming-out ball or a Season. She would never meet a man she could love, or hope for that family to share life, love, and laughter. 

I have to stop thinking this way. I should be looking for happiness in my life here as a servant. I’ve got the library, and Mrs. Farley and Mr. Howson both care about me. Every day I see people who have a worse life than I have here.

She nodded at the footman as he walked toward the drawing room door. Her aunt had a guest this week, as Aunt Agatha’s brother, Sir Julian Gresham, was visiting town. 

As Madeline continued to polish the sideboard, she heard what could only be described as a shriek from the drawing room. It must be the contents of that express. I wonder what it’s about.

When her Aunt Agatha and Sir Julian emerged from the drawing room, Madeline saw them looking in her direction and her aunt speaking furiously to her brother. 

“I thought we were rid of Lord Miles. He’s been gone so many years. This makes things very difficult,” said Aunt Agatha

“It’s because Bonaparte has been put in prison on the Isle of Elba. The war is over, so men like Miles will be returning home,” her brother told her aunt.

“Well we could do without him arriving back now. I’ve planned this Season for Rebecca, and it is critically important that she marries and produces an heir.” As her aunt spoke, her eyes widened with fury, and her face contorted with rage.

Madeline stood back, trying to hide in the shadows of the hall.

“Calm yourself, Sister,” Sir Julian urged. “I doubt Lord Everidge will be around in London for very long as he has a sizeable estate near Buckingham. As long as he believes everything is in order with his ward, he will go away to the country.” 

“If only that could be the case,” replied Aunt Agatha.

“Believe me, that is what will happen. You can keep to your plan and ensure that Rebecca marries this Season, and we can decide what to do with that obstacle. You’ve managed that, erm, shall we call it ‘situation’, very well indeed,” said Sir Julian Gresham. 

“I haven’t discarded the idea of an asylum. I’m going to lay the foundations for that possibility. I am not going to let this slip out of our hands when we are so close to success,” said Aunt Agatha.

Madeline was used to her Aunt Agatha’s temper, but there was something extreme about the state she was in today. She managed to move carefully into the passageway as her aunt stormed past, muttering to herself. She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the back of Sir Julian Gresham as he made his way upstairs. 

Something had made her aunt very nervous, and it seemed to be connected with this visitor who was expected to call in the next few days. 

That night, Madeline sat close to the fire, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, as she wrote in her journal. This wasn’t the journal her godfather, the kind gentleman had given her all those years ago, she had filled that some time ago. This journal was a present last Christmas from Mrs. Farley and Mr. Howson. 

Madeline wrote about her guilt at feeling envious of her cousin Rebecca and her inability to feel happy about her lot in life. She longed for a Season in society and to dance a waltz with a handsome suitor, but knew it wasn’t her lot in life to experience romance. 

***

The next morning she was busy cleaning out the grate in the hearth in the drawing room when Mrs. Farley interrupted her. 

“I’m sorry, Madeline, but you are to go immediately to your Aunt Agatha’s chamber, where Madame Dubois will help you dress and style your hair,” Mrs. Farley told her.

“I’m sorry, I think I misheard,” replied Madeline. “This is very strange.”

“It seems that express which arrived yesterday has caused something of a panic,” said Mrs. Farley. “Mr. Howson thinks it might have concerned you in some way.”

“That seems very unlikely,” said Madeline. “I’m dreading the idea of seeing aunt and her maid. I avoid them as much as I can.”

“It seems there is no escape today,” sympathized Mrs. Farley. “I’ll get Betsy to finish that job. You’d better go and see what your aunt needs you for.”

Her heart pounding with anxiety, Madeline climbed the stairs and knocked quietly on her aunt’s door. Madame Dubois opened the door and ushered her in, tutting at her appearance. 

“I am sorry, your ladyship. There is little I can do to make her presentable,” said Madame Dubois, taking Madeline’s hands and holding them up for Aunt Agatha to inspect. “Look at her hands. These are not the hands of a lady. These are the hands of a scullery maid.”

Madeline looked down at her hands, covered in the blacking she used on the grates and her nails worn down by endless housework. 

“You will have to do your best, Dubois,” Aunt Agatha instructed her maid. “She has to look presentable for a visitor we are expecting this afternoon.”

“I tell you it is an impossibility,” continued Dubois in her heavily accented English. “However, I shall do what I can to improve her appearance.” Aunt Agatha’s lady’s maid turned and looked at Madeline with total disdain. “You will follow me and do exactly what I say,” Madame Dubois told Madeline. 

The maid looked at Aunt Agatha. “Which dress is she to wear? I know for a fact she only has the gowns of a servant. There is no time to have a dress prepared for your visitor this afternoon.”

Aunt Agatha looked puzzled and fell silent. Rebecca had entered the room as Madame Dubois asked the question, and she stepped forward. “I’m afraid I can’t lend my cousin any of my gowns. They are all in colors, which would be quite unsuitable for Madeline, and I doubt they would fit her as she is as skinny as a scarecrow.” Rebecca stared at Madeline with an expression resembling intense hatred. “Do you remember, Mama, that when we moved here, we put away all her mother’s clothes in that trunk in the attic?”

“I vaguely remember something of the sort,” replied her mother. 

“I remember, as there were some expensive silk and muslins,” said Rebecca. “There might be something suitable in that trunk,” she suggested. 

“An excellent idea, my dear. Madame Dubois, please can you go to the attic and see what you can find.”

“Very well, your ladyship. I will venture into the attic and see if there is a suitable gown in that trunk.”

Madeline stared from one to the other in total confusion. What did they mean about making her look presentable for this visitor?

Madeline followed Madame Dubois to her workroom, where her aunt’s maid maintained the gowns of her aunt, and kept the tools of her trade. Madeline looked at the curling irons, baskets of lace and ribbon, and pots of rouge. 

“Would you like to remain here or join me in looking through this trunk in the attic?” Madame Dubois asked. 

Madeline knew she didn’t want to look through her mother’s clothes that day, but she felt she should agree to accompany the lady’s maid. For a moment, she stepped back in time, remembering the way her aunt and cousin had taken over her mother’s suite of rooms, and thrown everything which wasn’t wanted in a pile to go into storage in the attic. 

My aunt took Mama’s jewelry, she thought. I’ve certainly seen her wearing my mother’s emerald necklace, bracelet and earrings. And those were Mama’s diamonds which she wore last Christmas.

As they made their way into the attic, Madeline struggled to breathe as a heavy layer of dust lay over the furniture, cradles, rocking horse, and trunks filled with long forgotten belongings. When her mother had run the household, she insisted on an annual spring clean and clearing out of the attics. In the last four years she doubted anyone had ever set foot in the attics. 

“This is a terrible place,” said Madame Dubois, coughing and covering her mouth. “I do not know what her ladyship is thinking of,” she muttered to herself as she walked determinedly toward an old oak chest. 

“I believe this must be it,” she told Madeline. “Let’s see what we can find.”

Madeline drew in a breath at the sight of her mama’s wedding dress at the top of the chest. She reached forward and felt the fine Belgian lace in her hand, feeling the tears stinging her eyes.

The austere French lady’s maid looked at her with surprising compassion and patted her arm. “It is very well made indeed.” She gently removed the gown and veil and a rainbow of bright colored gowns lay beneath the ivory silk wedding gown. 

Madame Dubois looked at Madeline intently. “You have very beautiful green eyes, my dear, and your chestnut hair blends with them perfectly. We need to find a gown that suits your complexion.” 

She moved the top layer of gowns to one side and peered into the depths of the chest. 

 “I suspect that your mama was always in vogue with the latest fashion trends and used the finest cloth for her gowns. These are exquisite.” She held up a fine sprig muslin gown, and Madeline felt a lump in her throat as she recognized one of her mother’s favorite day dresses. 

Madame Dubois deftly sorted through the gowns and chose a green silk gown and another in muslin with a fine pattern of tiny leaves. “These will suit you,” she said with certainty. “I believe they will fit you too. Are you the same size as your mother?”

“I hardly know,” replied Madeline. “I was barely fourteen when she died.”

“Well, I suspect that you are the same height and stature. Let’s return downstairs and see what we can do. I’ve asked for the chamber maid to fill the copper bath by the fire in your bedchamber. You can’t be seen in company with your hair covered with soot and cobwebs.” 

“I never meet visitors,” Madeline said quietly. “I think there has been some mistake.”

“Peut-être que oui, peut-être qui non,” said Madame Dubois. “We must do as your aunt instructed and make you as presentable as possible.”

And so, as the clock struck three, Madeline stood in front of the looking glass and gasped. I had no idea I resembled Mama so much. She wore the heavier green silk dress with her hair neatly tied back in an ivory ribbon. Madame Dubois had declared the silk easier to prepare at short notice. 

Madame Dubois had used pins to draw the bodice, so it was a better fit. While the maid sewed, Madeline had been forced to sit with her hands in a bowl of fine oil, to try to remove the dirt which was ingrained on her hands, and under her nails. 

“You will do,” pronounced Madame Dubois as she finished. “You make a very elegant young lady.”

Madeline made her way down the servant’s staircase to the ground floor and to the drawing room. She saw a man talking earnestly with Mr. Howson and thought there was something familiar about the way he stood. She entered the drawing room to her aunt’s scowling face. 

“Our visitor is here, and you are late,” Aunt Agatha chided. 

“I’m sorry, Aunt Agatha,” Madeline whispered. She looked around the room, surprised that Rebecca wasn’t present. “Where is Rebecca?” she added. 

“Rebecca does not need to meet this particular guest, and your impertinence in asking questions about matters that do not concern you is astounding,” replied her aunt. 

“I’m sorry, Aunt Agatha,” Madeline apologized again, stung by the venom in her aunt’s voice. 

“You will speak only when spoken to, and if he asks anything about your life at Montague Place then you will say you are happy.” She looked at Madeline with an expression which filled her with fear. “Hopefully this will be the one and only time you need to meet this guest,” her aunt instructed.

“May I ask who is calling?” said Madeline. 

Her aunt looked at her with disdain, as if she kept hoping that Madeline would disappear. “Oh, very well,” her aunt finally responded. “Our visitor is Lord Colonel Everidge, who is your legal guardian and godfather.”

Madeline stared at her aunt in disbelief. 

“He has been in Iberia with the army and has only recently returned to civilian life now that Napoleon is imprisoned. It is Lord Everidge who put me in charge of you and this household while he was away.”

“The kind gentleman,” Madeline said, almost whispering to herself. 

“It is very inconvenient with all the preparations for Rebecca coming out, but I felt it prudent to allow him to meet you,” her aunt continued. “He will see that you are well, and there is no need to concern himself further with you.”

Madeline didn’t have time to reflect on her Aunt Agatha’s words as the door opened and Mr. Howson announced the Earl of Everidge. 

A soldier with a weathered face, an open smile, and a twinkle in his eye entered the room, and seemed to Madeline to fill it with his very presence. “My dear Madeline,” he said as he crossed the room and took both her hands in his. “It is too long since we last met. You are well, child? You look well.”

Madeline saw her Aunt Agatha looking at her and detected some anxiety in her face. He doesn’t know I clean that grate every morning before the household rises, Madeline thought. I suspect he entrusted me to the care of my aunt, and she has ignored his instructions and treated me as a servant. Now she expects me to collude and pretend that she has treated me well?

“I’ll ask for tea to be brought through,” said her aunt. She smiled warmly at Lord Everidge. “Unless you would prefer something stronger.”

“I’ll take a glass of cognac if you have it,” he told her. “You ladies can take tea.”

And so, Madeline found herself talking with the Earl of Everidge for an hour. He told them about the battles he had fought in, the sadness of war to the civilian’s affected by the devastation to their country. 

He talked about memories of her Papa and Mama and how much he missed them both. He hoped she would soon meet his sister, Lady Hermione, at their estate in Northamptonshire near to Buckingham.

“My sister is something of a recluse, but I hope to manage to persuade her to visit town for a few days,” he told her.

“I shall look forward to meeting her,” said Madeline, knowing that her Aunt Agatha would not be pleased with her response.

Madeline felt unease at the cold fury in her Aunt Agatha’s face. She said very little, but she was obviously monitoring every word that Madeline said to her guardian. 

After an hour, her Uncle Miles, as he insisted that she call him, declared that he must soon leave but there was a subject of great importance to be discussed. He smiled widely at Aunt Agatha. “I’m delighted to have returned just in time for Madeline’s coming-out ball,” he said, turning to his ward. “You must be looking forward to a Season in town, Madeline. All those young bucks will be queuing up to dance with you, but I insist on leading you out for the first dance.”

Madeline thought that Aunt Agatha might choke with anger as her face turned puce. Uncle Miles didn’t appear to notice and continued to talk enthusiastically about her presentation at court. 

“I expect you’ll want to have Madeline’s ball here rather than at my town house?” he asked Aunt Agatha. “I’m happy for you to use the ballroom here. Mr. Howson told me that it hasn’t been used for some years, so you must spend what you need and send all the bills to Grayson, my solicitor in Greendale Street, as usual.”

Her Aunt Agatha nodded, seemingly unable to speak.

“I have to return to my regiment for a few weeks, but then I will be free of the shackles of an army life. I plan to spend time getting to know Madeline, and as this is the year for her coming out into society, I am glad I will be around to join you at some events.”

Aunt Agatha nodded, still silent. 

Lord Everidge looked at Madeline. “When the Season in town quietens down, I am hopeful that you will join Hermione and I on our country estate near Buckingham.”

“I shall enjoy that very much,” Madeline responded.

“Thank you for doing such a wonderful job looking after my ward,” he told Aunt Agatha. “I hadn’t expected to be back so soon from military action, but Bonaparte surrendering has given me my freedom again. I can help take some of the weight off your shoulders now,” he told Aunt Agatha.

Lord Everidge, or Uncle Miles as he insisted he called her, left, assuring her that she would have a wonderful Season in society, and he expected to escort her to as many functions as possible. He told Aunt Agatha he was looking forward to seeing more of her and meeting her daughter Rebecca. 

As the door closed, the warm glow Madeline had been feeling at the return of the man she thought of as the kind gentleman evaporated. 

“How dare he turn up and interfere in this way?” her aunt said, seemingly speaking to herself rather than Madeline. 

Madeline remained silent, hoping that her aunt would forget about her and leave the room. She was now aware that the colonel was her legal guardian, and her aunt only had day-to-day oversight of her social welfare and education.

Aunt Agatha looked at her niece and began to laugh loudly. Madeline reached for the edge of the nearest chair for support as the laughter became louder. 

“You, have a coming-out ball, and a Season in society? A housemaid becoming a debutante…” her aunt cried in a shrill tone. 

“I never asked for a ball,” Madeline murmured quietly, suddenly fearful of her aunt. 

“You have no training for entering society and little education,” her aunt said. “You will be laughed out of every drawing room in town. Who would sponsor you at Almack’s?”

Madeline remained silent, not knowing what to say. 

“You are nobody,” her aunt continued. “We’ll see about you having a ball and a Season. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Agatha,” Madeline whispered. 

“And so you should be,” retorted her aunt. “You will go and change out of that dress and resume your duties. I don’t want you getting ideas above your station.” She banged her fist on the table, and a Chinese vase rattled with the force. “Now, where is my brother? Can you ask Mr. Howson to ask Sir Julian to join me?”

Madeline nodded and left the room as swiftly as possible. She found Mr. Howson in the hall and told him that her aunt wished to speak with her brother. 

***

Later, as she passed through the hall, she heard her aunt talking with her brother and cousin in the drawing room. 

“I don’t see why Madeline should have a coming-out ball here at Montague Place. And she is to have a Season in town too? Mother, you cannot allow this to happen,” protested Rebecca. 

“Brother, what do you advise?” came her aunt’s voice. 

“I don’t think you have much choice but to do what the Earl wants,” her brother replied. 

“Surely not?” said her aunt. 

“I’d like to tell you to ignore him, but he is Madeline’s legal guardian and that includes oversight of her property, including this house, until she marries,” said Sir Julian. 

“She will never marry,” came her Aunt Agatha’s strident tone. “Who would want to marry a girl who has no education and will be seen by the world as simple-minded?”

“And Madeline can be so surly, with such terrible mood swings,” said Rebecca. 

Madeline seethed as she listened. That is so unfair. I really don’t have mood swings. I just try to avoid my cousin Rebecca whenever possible.

“I knew we should have had her examined, to check she is in possession of all her faculties,” said Aunt Agatha. “I’ve suspected for some time that my niece would benefit from specialist care for her needs.”

“There may be a possibility of a medical opinion to confirm that she has intellectual difficulties,” observed Sir Julian, “but now that the Earl has returned, it would be difficult to organize without his permission.”

“This is outrageous, Julian,” her aunt continued. “It is essential that Rebecca marries and inherits. I’m not risking all our futures simply because the earl has returned. I shall tell him that Madeline has a chill and cannot receive visitors, then with any luck he’ll return to his country estate.”

“I hope so,” said Sir Julian, “but there is no escape from having this ball. He has the power, until we think of a way of taking it back.”

“Madeline is not prepared to be a debutante. One conversation with an esteemed matron of the ton, and they will ostracize her from society,” interjected Rebecca.

“You may be right. Those tabbies of the ton have sharp claws,” said her mother, sounding calmer. “In fact, this may very well work in our favor if we play our cards right.”

Madeline moved away, concerned that she would be seen listening to their conversation. The voices were so loud that it was impossible not to hear, and I’m convinced that they were talking about me.

She felt a surge of hope. Her guardian had returned. She longed to meet him again and show him the journal she had kept during the years he had been away. If he read it then he would know about her life at Montague Place and how she had been treated by her Aunt Agatha.