Page 1 of Adeline

Prologue

Canterbury, England

February, 1818

Miss Adeline Price, eldest daughter of Viscount Melton, stared at the half-dozen trunks and traveling bags she’d demanded make the journey with her to Canterbury. The coachman had haphazardly tossed them from the mail coach to the frozen, damp dirt at the end of the long drive.

“You cannot think to shove me from the carriage and discard me here.” Adeline stomped her boot-clad foot and turned her sharp stare on the driver. Her light brown curls tumbled over her shoulder at her sudden movement. “I will write to my father and have you drawn and quartered the moment you arrive back in London.”

“I have work ta do, miss,” the driver scuffed. “And I not be paid enough ta deal with the likes of ye spoiled London chits. I don’t be find’n me pay as a nursemaid.”

“The nerve of—“ Her words cut off when the man climbed up to his seat and took the reins, calling to his horses and leaving Adeline in the dust, dirty from the muck kicked up by the departing coach. “Bloody, swag-bellied bull!”

Taking a step closer to her worldly possessions—everything she called hers had been hastily packed and delivered, with her in tow, to the mailing post in London—Adeline sank onto her archaic trunk. The cold evening air slowly wormed its way through the thick wool of her cloak, seeping all the way to her undergarments as a shiver overtook her. She clamped her jaw tight to keep her teeth from chattering.

“A pox upon you, Alistair,” she seethed at the empty, rolling hills surrounding her. It was her brother’s fault she’d been shipped away from home under the guise of education. Adelaide and Amelia, her younger sisters, hadn’t been cast out of London for a proper education. No, it was only Adeline who’d been sent away to an all-girls boarding school in the wilds of Kent. “Damnation and hellfire.”

Hellfire actually sounded vastly more appealing than perishing due to the cold of night.

Adeline narrowed her glare on the decaying structure nestled between a large grove of birch trees at the far end of the long drive. It seemed an eternity away—and never would Adeline accomplish the task of hauling her trunks the entire distance.

The urge to scream, to stomp her foot and punch something consumed her. If her brother were present, she would throw her handbag at his face; though she was well aware that her young age put her at a severe disadvantage physically.

Bloody, contemptible imp.

At only twelve, Adeline had either said or thought every vile utterance she’d stocked her memory with from years surrounded by four brothers.

She scrutinized the old building, propping her chin on her bent knees, noting the front door opening and two people coming toward her. As they drew closer, it was clear one was a servant dressed in livery garb. The other was a tall woman with her brown hair tied severely at the nape of her neck and outfitted in a black gown a decade older than was fashionable. She appeared to have some authority here.

For the briefest of moments, Adeline contemplated giving up; going along with her brother’s plan for her…but then the woman’s narrowed eyes traveled from Adeline’s head to her filthy gown to her muddied boots as if Adeline were naught but a vagrant, a child not belonging to this fancy, highbrowed school of learning. Adeline stiffened with resolve.

The aching in her body only intensified when she stood to greet the pair. Spending over a day in a mail coach was exhausting, to say the least. However, she refused to admit that she’d been dumped alongside the edge of the road, her possessions unceremoniously thrown from the boot, without even enough coin to secure a more civilized mode of conveyance to Miss Emmeline’s School of Education and Decorum for Ladies of Outstanding Quality. Not an inch of Adeline felt of outstanding quality, and there was certainly no chance of the pair approaching her being convinced of such from her untidy appearance.

The older woman stopped before Adeline, her stare remaining on her no doubt dirt-streaked face, but giving a tight smile and motioning for the servant to collect the many trunks loitering at the end of the drive.

“You must be Miss Adeline Price.” The woman’s tone gave no indication whether she was pleased to see Adeline or burdened by her less than proper arrival. “I am Miss Emmeline, headmistress here at the school. Do follow me.”

The woman did not wait for Adeline’s reply, nor did Adeline verbalize the redundancy of the headmistress’ words. The first was much in line with her home in London—no one ever waited for her response. Yet, Adeline holding her tongue was not something she was accustomed to. No matter the occasion, she relished being heard—perhaps there was a valid reason for her exile to Canterbury.

Adeline followed the woman, leaving the servant behind to collect her things.

The wide double doors remained open, and the headmistress led Adeline inside, not pausing to allow Adeline time to remove her cloak but instead continuing down a long hall, torches lighting the way. Adeline’s boots echoed loudly as they progressed down the corridor, her cloak and skirts swooshing around her legs as she struggled to keep pace with Miss Emmeline.

Adeline was prepared to demand the woman set a more leisurely pace when she pivoted sharply and entered a large room, gesturing once again for her newest pupil to follow. The room was in severe need of renovations—or possibly a deep scrubbing—and Adeline feared the walls would crumble around her if she ventured inside.

“We do not have all night, Miss Adeline,” the headmistress huffed, sinking into the chair behind her desk. “Either have a seat or return to the roadside and await your white knight to come and make everything better.”

She was unaware leaving was an option. Glancing over her shoulder and down the hall, she watched the servant lug her first trunk out of the cold and set it none too gently inside the entrance, far too small and cramped to be considered a foyer.

With a deep sigh, Adeline entered the room and stood behind the chair across from Miss Emmeline’s large table that served as her desk, its legs crooked and its surface appearing as if one need only set a feather upon it for the table to crash to the ground. It was no wonder she’d never gained the esteemed status as a Mrs, for her cold demeanor would likely scare off any suitor who might fancy her appearance—which Adeline was not reluctant to admit needed far more work than her monotone voice and rigid posture.

“Sit.” The headmistress shuffled through a stack of folders, finally settling on one and bringing it in front of her. She opened the file, and Adeline did her best to keep her gaze on the woman as opposed to the papers the headmistress now diligently read. Miss Emmeline’s stare moved from the paper to Adeline. No reaction crossed her face when she saw the girl still standing. “Your family writes that you have been experiencing certain, shall we call them issues“—her brow rose—“at home.”

Adeline’s chin lifted several notches, but she remained silent.

Miss Emmeline chuckled softly before continuing. “I certainly do not foresee you causing a commotion here or becoming a distraction. You see, at my school, we pride ourselves on allowing young ladies to discover who they are, and provide them with the time and resources to help them become the women they long to be.” The headmistress took a deep breath after her long-winded and fanciful dribble regarding her school’s unrealistic ideals. “Is this something you will embrace, Miss Adeline?”

The only thing Adeline wanted to embrace at that moment was her brother’s neck for convincing their parents to send her away for a proper education.