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Chapter One
Lady Selina Drake peered out through the window of her father’s landau, which was taking her from her father’s estate in Hertfordshire, to her uncle’s home in Colchester, a two days’ journey by carriage. The shiny black carriage was pulled by a perfectly matched pair of Norfolk Trotters.
On the pale-blue velvet seat across from her, Faith, her lady’s maid, was sound asleep, snoring softly. Her head rested against the window. Her bonnet had slipped back, and her mousy-blonde hair was tumbling out of her bun. Selina let her sleep—it had been a long journey.
Selina was dressed in a smart gray frock, which wouldn’t show the wrinkles after a long drive into the country. A simple straw bonnet covered her golden hair, the gray silk ribbon tied beneath her chin in a bow.
From far off, she spotted the familiar façade of Kirby Hall, her uncle’s country seat. It was like returning home, in some ways. She’d spent much time at Kirby Hall when she was young. It had been five years since her last visit.
Her father, Lord Everett Drake, the Earl of Quinton, was traveling for business. He’d been called away to Paris to oversee some of his investments in silk. Her mother, Lady Quinton, never let an opportunity to go to Paris pass her by, and Selina’s older brother, Thomas, was visiting a friend in the Lakes District.
Selina didn’t want to remain at Staunton, her father’s sprawling estate, so she had written to her aunt and uncle, to see if she could visit. As it turned out, her cousin, Leah, was newly engaged, and they were happy to receive her. She was invited to stay through the spring, so that she could be there for the wedding festivities.
The carriage pulled onto the long, winding drive that led to Kirby Hall. The estate was lined by white fences, which boasted grassy fields, filled with her uncle’s thoroughbred horses. The driveway led the landau past an overlook, from which Selina could see Kirby from a distance—the large white house with three floors of shiny windows and the large lake in the foreground.
Lady Selina leaned forward, gently tapping Faith on the shoulder. “Wake up! We’re here!” she said softly. Faith’s gray eyes fluttered open, and she stretched.
“I’m sorry, My Lady,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to drift off like that.”
“It’s quite all right, Faith,” Lady Selina replied. “It’s been a long journey.”
When the landau pulled up in front of Kirby Hall, her uncle’s butler was just walking down the front steps to meet them. He was an elderly man, dressed in a crisp dark suit. It had been several years since Selina had seen him. In that time, his hair had turned to the color of frost.
“Welcome back to Kirby Hall, Lady Selina!” he said, opening the carriage door, and offering her his gloved hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Wickes,” Selina replied.
“How was your journey, My Lady?” he asked as she alighted from the carriage, her half-boots landing neatly in the gravel of the drive.
“Lord and Lady Kirby, and your cousin, Lady Leah, await you in the withdrawing room, My Lady,” he told her. Lady Selina waited for him to help Faith down. Her lady’s maid stumbled a little, breathing a sigh of relief when she was on the ground.
“Right this way, My Lady—I’ll have the manservant bring your bags,” Mr. Wickes said, ushering Lady Selina inside of the house.
Selina turned to Faith as she walked, “Can you please make sure that my new silk gown made it here in one piece?”
“Of course, My Lady,” Faith replied.
“I’d like to wear it to dinner,” Selina told her. “Would you mind pressing it?”
“I’ll see to it, My Lady,” Faith assured her.
“Thank you, Faith.” Her lady’s maid was always with her—to ensure that everything went smoothly. Lady Selina didn’t know how she’d ever manage without her. Not that she would ever be in a position to find out. At least—she hoped.
Mr. Wickes opened the large front door. It was painted a sleek black, with a big brass knocker. The butler held it open, so that Selina could pass. She entered, looking around.
The inside of Kirby Hall was the same as it had been the last time she had visited. The foyer’s high ceiling was adorned with a massive, medieval-looking chandelier, and the sweeping stone staircase led toward the upper floors. Servants were everywhere—dusting, sweeping, carrying full vases with fresh flowers.
“Come,” Mr. Wickes said. “Lord and Lady Kirby are just upstairs. I shall bring you all some tea.”
“That sounds marvelous,” Selina said gratefully, following the man up the staircase and down the upper hallway lined with oil paintings depicting her Uncle Latimer’s dour-faced ancestors. They looked down on her with marked disdain.
“Please enter, My Lady,” Mr. Wickes opened the door to a withdrawing room papered in cream with delicate blue and pink flowers.
Her aunt and uncle were seated, side-by-side on one of the settees. They both turned when the door opened.
“The Lady Selina Drake has arrived,” Mr. Wickes announced formally with a smile.
“Lady Selina!” Her uncle, Latimer Bowles, the Earl of Kirby, stood. He was a tall gentleman who had salt-and-pepper hair. He was often riding or hunting, and it showed in his trim physique. “How was your journey?”
