Prologue

It’s time to leave. This isn’t my home anymore. The new owners will arrive soon and I need to be long gone. 

Eleanor felt tears welling in her eyes and felt angry at this show of emotion. Her life had changed, and she needed to be sensible and get on with her new life. Maybe one day she might manage to look upon the memories of the destruction of her family but at that given moment she could not bear it.

The scent of beeswax was the main thing Eleanor noticed. That, and the cold, harsh light shining on the empty floorboards of the drawing-room where her mother used to play the spinet. This house, her home, Stretton Mews, was already sterile, stripped of memory and awaiting its new occupants.

Eleanor swallowed the hard lump of grief lodged in her throat.

So many memories.

She gripped the leather handle of her father’s old traveling portmanteau. It was heavy, packed not with silks and bonnets, but with his scientific legacy; all his notebooks, packets of dried seeds, and the glass vials of tincture he had tirelessly worked to perfect.

All her life she’d been proud of Sir William Ashton, and she knew he had been innocent of the allegations against him.

She ran a finger over the smooth, worn wood of the chair where he used to sit by the fire. How quickly the blight of the scandal had spread. First, the accusation of fraud, claiming his reputation, and thus resulting in being shunned in the street and even his club. Soon, the creditors made their appearance demanding immediate payment.

The accusation of embezzlement and fraud was the result of falsifying his research findings.

It wasn’t the truth of his guilt that mattered now; but the stain of the accusation.

She closed her eyes, remembering the night when she’d come to say goodnight, and found him lifeless in that chair by the fire. He had passed away a pauper; the shame of the loss of his reputation had been what caused his untimely demise.

She looked around the room, knowing she would never return, wanting to remember the happy times when her father had sat with her at the long table, showing her how to draw botanical specimens to help him record his research.

I won’t be like Mama, Eleanor vowed silently, a fierce, brittle determination hardening her resolve. I won’t give up. He was innocent. I will keep that knowledge alive. 

Her mother had passed just months after her father, never recovering from the shame of those few days spent in the debtor’s prison.

Outside, the air was sharp and cold. Sarah Wyatt, the vicar’s daughter, stood by the gate, her face blotched with tears. They had been friends since childhood. Sarah’s father, Reverend Wyatt, gave Eleanor’s shoulder a solemn, final squeeze. They had been her only friends and given her a home after Mama had passed on.

“Safe journey, my dear,” the vicar murmured.

“Please write,” said Sarah.

“I made you this,” she said, pressing a lace edged handkerchief into her friend’s hands.

As the heavy carrier’s cart rattled into the square ready to take her to the posting house to take the stagecoach north to her new position a small figure darted past the vicar. It was little Polly, the daughter of a woman Eleanor had nursed through a fever using one of her father’s simple remedies. Polly pressed a crumpled posy of dandelions and daisies into Eleanor’s hand. Eleanor leaned over and thanked Polly for her kindness.

“You saved my Ma,” she said.

“We’ll miss you, Miss Aston.”

This time the tears overflowed onto her cheeks, and it was all she could do to try not to sob. The Reverend Wyatt helped her climb up onto the seat of the cart and stowed her portmanteau safely behind.

“Safe travels, my dear,” he called.

A final image flashed in her mind; her father, bent over his notes, explaining his research and how the common thyme, bilberry, and chamomile could help to boost the body’s response to disease. Rigorous, robust research, but, since the scandal erupted, it was seen as worthless.

Later, in the stagecoach, she kept her face hidden not wanting to converse with the other passengers, and pulled her sketchbook from her bag, opening it to a likeness of her parents she’d sketched in happy days before the accusations of fraud. She closed her eyes as the coach lurched forward to her new life as a governess.

A governess with a talent for sketching and a secret past she could not share, as it would likely result in dismissal.

She wiped the wet tears from her cheeks, swallowing her fear.

Her life had changed, but she knew she had the strength to survive whatever she had to endure next. Nothing could ever be as bad as those few days incarcerated in the King’s Bench Debtor’s Prison. She would always be grateful to the Reverend Wyatt for securing their release.

She could earn her living teaching others, sharing knowledge and keep the regrets and shame hidden deep inside.

Chapter 1

“I can’t take the chance, Eleanor. You have been more than satisfactory as a governess, but in view of your history I shall have to let you go.” The words of Lady Fanshaw echoed in her memory.

As the coach rumbled up the long, tree lined drive Eleanor gripped her portmanteau and took a slow and steady breath.

Herndale Hall, high on the Yorkshire Moors. She had heard this place was bleak and cold, but…

How long will I be here? She thought to herself with a sinking feeling deep inside. They will find out about my past, about father, and dismiss me immediately.

She’d protested, trying to explain the situation, but her ladyship had made her decision.

“The carriage will take you as far as York, and I shall give you five pounds to help you until you find another position. I can only suggest you are honest when you are engaged by your next employer.”

She pulled her portfolio of paintings closer as the carriage began to slow down on the approach to the Hall.

I haven’t been honest. I didn’t take Lady Fanshaw’s advice. If I did, I would never find employment. How long before Lady Fenwick discovers my identity? She sighed audibly, telling herself this wasn’t worth thinking about. She had work today, and a place to live. That was all she needed.

At least her Mama had not lived to experience the penniless state her father’s actions had brought them to. She reached for the locket around her neck. She knew she would need to sell it at some point in the future, and had almost taken it to the pawnbroker’s a few days ago.

The locket with its tiny seed pearls was her last link with her mother. Her Mama had treasured spring flowers, and it had been difficult to see the snowdrops and daffodils knowing her mother was no longer with her.

I’m like Mr. Wordsworth’s poem, she thought to herself. I’m wandering lonely as a cloud, and trying to find my place in the world. Maybe it was here at Herndale Hall, as governess to two children? She was most anxious that it might prove so.

Jackson, the coachman, who had been sent to York to collect her and pulled up on the carriage drive, close to the entrance to the hall. He opened the door and set up the steps for her to alight. His face was etched with concern.

“Something’s amiss. I’m sorry Miss Aston, but I’m going to leave you here and find out what the problem is. I’ve never known anything like it,” and with those words he disappeared towards a group of footmen standing near the steps leading up to the main door of the hall.

She stood next to the carriage, looking around and trying to get her bearings. Jackson was right, something seemed very wrong. The group of footmen broke into a run towards a copse of trees at the edge of the parkland surrounding the hall.

A man raced towards her from the other direction, moving quickly towards the trees on the drive. She sensed panic in the way he moved, and he slowed down, calling to her to

“Get help. Tell Jackson I need men to follow me to the Elms.”

“The elms? Where? Who shall I…” but he had gone, disappearing into the distance. Eleanor turned around to walk back to the house. Everyone had disappeared, except a frail woman with a small boy huddling close to her.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” she enquired gently.

“It’s Caroline. My baby is missing. She’s run away, and we didn’t realise. She has been gone for at least two hours. Why didn’t that governess arrive? This wouldn’t have happened.”

“I’ve just arrived. I’m Miss Eleanor Aston,” she told the woman. She felt a pang of annoyance that she had made a bad impression before she had even set foot in the hall. She knew with certainty that the day she was expecting to begin her duties was today. No matter, this lady must be her employer, and she was in a state of total agitation.

“My brother has gone to the Dower House, and needs help, and all the servants have scattered across the estate searching for Caroline. We think she might be at the Dower House, where we used to live and where her … I found a picture she had drawn of the house, and it must have been just before she disappeared.” Eleanor put her hand on the lady’s arm as her muddled words tumbled out breathlessly, straining to understand what she was telling her.

The woman, whom she now believed to be Lady Amelia Fenwick, who had engaged her as governess, seemed to need someone to follow her brother to the Dower House.

Is that the Elms? She wondered. It seemed likely.

“Stay here,” she urged Lady Fenwick.

“Is there a housekeeper or someone to look after you?”

“Pray, do not distress yourself on my account,” replied Lady Fenwick.

“Find my brother Sebastian, or if you come across a footman on the way ask them to go after him. It is absolutely imperative that we find Caroline.” Her voice sounded stronger, a little more like a grand lady of the ton.

Eleanor put down her portmanteau, hoping her sketches would be safe, and lifted up her skirts as she began to run in the direction the man had disappeared.

I have no idea where I am going. I could end up lost in these woods. Ah perhaps not, I can see a building in the distance, and it must be the Elms.

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, feeling the pain of a stitch underneath her ribs. She had to reach the Elms, it seemed a child’s life could be in danger.

She rounded a corner on the path, almost tripping over the roots of an oak tree which had grown across the track. She looked up and felt her breath catch in her throat.

The blackened shell of a once magnificent house rose gauntly against the skyline. She could almost smell the soot in the air, this fire had been within the last two or three years.

Could a child be hiding in those ruins?

She heard a voice shouting within the charred remains of what she assumed was the Elms. She took a deep breath, hoped her travel gown would not be ruined as she would never be able to afford a replacement, and climbed up the steps and through the empty space where a door must have been.

It would have been a grand house. It wasn’t the largest stately home, but it had an elegance and many windows which would have given it lightness and warmth on a sunny winter’s day.

Eleanor stood still, waiting to hear the voice again. She heard a man calling “Caroline, it is Uncle Sebastian. We all want you to come home.”

Silence.

She followed the direction of the voice and saw the Duke of Herndale standing looking around him, clearly searching for a sign of the missing child.

He stood tall, with raven dark hair and the most arresting silver streaks at his temples. As he turned, Eleanor gasped at the contrast between each side of his face. The right hand remained devastatingly handsome, resembling a marble statue of a Greek god.

The left side was filled with raised red scars, still looking as angry as the day he must have been burned in a fire. In that moment she knew it had happened here, the Duke must have been injured with the most grievous injuries life in the fire which destroyed the Elms.

“Do you believe that the child is here?” she called to him, alerting him to her presence.

The Duke nodded.

“Have you brought help?” He asked.

Eleanor shook her head.

“Your sister sent me, she knew that you needed help and all the household and ground staff are out across the estate searching for the child. I’m afraid all you have is me.”

Eleanor felt a wave of compassion for whatever had happened in this family, when the Elms had burned into a shell.

“Well Miss …“

“Miss Aston, your Grace.”

“Well, Miss Aston, I do need your aid, as I am quite certain that Caroline is hiding out in this wreck of a building, and I’m sure you can see it isn’t safe. If you can stay on this floor and keep looking and calling her name, then I’ll try to search upstairs. She might respond better to a woman’s voice.”

“Of course, your Grace.”

“Why my sister had to engage another governess, when everyone so far has been an absolute disaster and has just made matters worse, I have no idea. Did you have a governess?” he asked her with a note of exasperation in his voice.

“No, your Grace. My father tutored me.”

“You had a lucky escape,” he told her.

“Now you search that way, and I’ll take the other wing.”

Eleanor called Caroline’s name, treading carefully, as even on the ground floor there were holes leading down to the kitchen, scullery and cellars below.

When she reached the farthest room, she turned around re-tracing her steps. She saw the Duke moving towards her, taking each step slowly and carefully.

“Stay where you are,” he called.

“The floor here is close to collapse. I’m having to test every step I take.”

She watched his tall, powerful frame moving with the agility of a cat through the ruined building.

“Take care,” she called.

“Caroline, Caroline,” Eleanor heard him call.

And suddenly, a tiny voice responded. She wondered at first if she had imagined it, but no, she heard a voice talking to the Duke, and moved towards him as quickly as she could.

A tiny little girl sat on a pile of rubble in what looked to have been the library, as fragments of burned books surrounded her. The little girl held a ruined book in her hands as tears streamed down her face.

As the Duke moved tentatively towards the girl, taking every step with utmost care, a floorboard split and fell away into the void beneath them. Eleanor stifled a scream, knowing it would only distress the child, terror telling her that the man was risking his life to try to rescue the child; one missed step and he could hurtle down into the cellar below. He’d be gravely hurt even if he survived the fall.

Eleanor took a slow steady breath, moving towards the Duke, ready to support the rescue attempt.

Chapter 2

“Caroline, stay still, as still as can be,” Sebastian spoke quietly, somehow convinced that if he spoke any more loudly the floor beneath them might collapse.

“Uncle Sebastian, I’m frightened,” came the reply.

Sebastian Hemsworth, Duke of Herndale, breathed that sigh of relief that Caroline spoke with him and didn’t retreat further back into the ruined room.

“You are the bravest girl I know Caroline. We can be brave together.”

“Mama will be cross,” she continued, turning to look into the room, as if planning to move.

Keep calm, he told himself.

“Not at all,” he said, in what he hoped sounded a light tone of voice.

“Your Mama sent me here to find you. She didn’t seem at all angry to me.”

“She said there would be teacakes for tea, and I told her I didn’t want them. I just wanted Papa back.”

“Your Mama understands that, Caroline, she feels the same. We all miss your Papa very much.”

Caroline sniffed, and he hoped she wouldn’t start sobbing, as he needed her to keep listening to him.

“Nothing has been right since Papa passed on. Go away, Uncle Sebastian. I need to think, and I can do that here in our old house.”

“I’ll be quiet and you can forget I am here,” he suggested quietly.

“I’m as quiet as that mouse in the story you like to read.”

“Jasper,” she whispered, almost smiling.

“I like it when you draw the mice Uncle Sebastian. They are all very brave.”

“Well. They try to be brave, and you are like them. You are a very brave girl, Caroline. When we get home you shall have teacakes and you can sit in my library near the fire and we shall make a story about the mouse family.”

“Can I sit in your library? Really?” Caroline’s face lit up.

“Yes, you can even use the toasting fork in the library if you like. Can I move towards you? To help you across to the safe part. You know it isn’t safe at the Elms anymore.”

“I know. I just feel close to Papa here.”

“Your Papa can be everywhere with you, and we need to remember him every day.”

“I know Uncle Sebastian. I don’t want to forget him. Sometimes I almost can’t remember his face.”

“I can sketch him for you. We could draw story books with your Papa and you can help me,” Sebastian assured her.

Caroline nodded, and Sebastian felt a surge of relief. He needed to make sure his tiny niece was returned to his widowed sister safely.

“There’s something else,” Caroline whispered.

“Tell me, Caroline. It’s always easier to share our worries.”

“I don’t want a new governess,” Caroline confessed.

“Everything is always changing. I don’t want lessons in the schoolroom, and everyone pretending life is normal when Papa has gone.”

Her voice grew louder, and Sebastian turned to Miss Aston who had joined them and was his only support. He tried to tell her with his eyes to come closer and breathed an inward sigh of relief that she had understood immediately, and inched herself slowly across the precarious floor towards him.

“Papa would want us to remember him,” Caroline cried, becoming more agitated.

“Caroline, listen to me. Your Papa was my best friend, and I miss him every day. He cherished both you and your brother very much and Amelia, your dear Mama more than anything in the whole world. He would want you to enjoy life, and that means birthdays, and Christmas, and more than anything, learning about the world. Remember how he treasured teaching you about those Greek Gods and Goddesses, and the magic of Merlin and bravery of King Arthur?”

Caroline nodded.

“He adored pretending to be the Green Knight.”

“And you must learn and find out all about the things he cared about, as it is an important way of remembering your Papa. It’s always going to be sad because we miss him so much.”

Caroline moved forward, just a little, then stopped.  Sebastian could see her chin trembling, and knew he needed to get her out of that dangerous pile of rubble before their weight made the floor collapse. Caroline was small, but the extra weight of her body made it even more dangerous.

“What if I forget his voice, or how he looked when he smiled?”

“You won’t,” said Sebastian with assurance.

“We will all remember your Papa. He is too important to ever forget. We have your keepsake box, and we can add lots more to it. Everything in your special chest is a memory of Papa. We keep people we hold in our hearts alive with memories.”

And I don’t want you plunging through the floor into the cellars below. Oh please Caroline just let me help you move forward to safety, he thought as he watched her trying to decide whether to leave the safe space she had found. The irony being, it was one of the most unsafe places which she could have sought out.

He gestured to Miss Aston who was now behind him to join him. She moved deftly to his side, silently waiting for instructions.

Caroline nodded again.

“I just miss him so much,” she whispered, and began to move towards him.

“Move very slowly, Caroline,” he told her.

“I’m worried that the floorboards are dangerous. He saw her following his instructions. Just a few seconds and she’ll be safe, he told himself, smiling encouragingly.

He moved into a half crouching position, ready to hold her as she reached him.

The floor cracked, the wood strained beyond endurance.

“Caroline,” he called urgently.

“Stay still. Don’t move.” He saw the look of fear on her face. This couldn’t happen. His sister couldn’t lose her beloved daughter as well as her husband Thomas.

Then, with a sudden deafening cracking sound, the ancient timbers collapsed, and the floor gave way under Caroline’s feet, and she began to plunge downward screaming. Her skirt caught on a broken joist, and she grabbed hold of it, stifling her fears as she gripped the wood.

Sebastian lunged and caught hold of her wrist, his shoulder wrenched and he felt shooting pains of agony in his arm. He would be strong…he would save his niece.

The floor groaned around them, and he wondered if they might both fall into the stone floor fifteen feet below.

Sebastian heard a calm voice urging them to stay still, like Jasper the little mouse in the story.

“I’m going to make my way across that joist, which looks stronger,” Miss Aston told him.

“It won’t hold extra weight. You need to stay safe yourself,” Sebastian told her.

“Nonsense,” Miss Aston retorted.

“I believe it will hold while I edge towards you from the other direction. I’m almost there and will distribute my weight carefully.”

“Keep holding on tight to your uncle, Caroline. We’ll soon have you pulled out of that hole.” Miss Aston spoke in a voice which exuded calm confidence.

“Caroline, in a few seconds when I tell you, I want you to imagine you are a rabbit jumping high in the sky.” Sebastian saw the look of fear on the Miss Aston’s face, but she continued in her calm way.

“Ready, when I say ‘Jump’, you jump like a rabbit into your uncle’s arms. You can do that. I’m going to hold your shoulders to help.”

“Ready?” Miss Aston whispered to him, and he nodded grimly.

“Caroline jump up,” she instructed his niece, who immediately put effort into pushing herself upwards while they pulled her out of the void.

They encouraged Caroline across the joist where Miss Aston was proved right. It was much stronger.

As soon as they reached safety Caroline began to sob hysterically, and Miss Aston took her in her arms and held her close.

Sebastian’s eyes met Miss Aston’s, that clear, steady gaze with an acknowledgement in them that tragedy had been so close.

Even in that moment of relief, he realised this young woman looked at him directly, recognition of a shared moment without revulsion, a connection forged in fear for a child so close to falling to her death. There had been no sign of shock or pity in that expression.

“Come along,” Sebastian said to them both.

“I think we all deserve some of Cook’s special teacakes and lemonade.”

As they walked back to the house along the path, he felt a dull ache in his shoulder and wondered if his companion had hurt herself as they hauled Caroline to safety.

Caroline seemed to recover after a few minutes and asked if she could run ahead of them.

Sebastian looked at the woman walking beside him, and had a vague memory of seeing her standing next to a carriage as he raced to the Dower House.

“My apologies, ma’am as we haven’t been introduced, and I am incredibly grateful for your help. I believe without you …” he shuddered.

She smiled, a quiet, gentle smile, which lit up her whole face.

“I am greatly pleased that I was of some assistance. I’m afraid I’m the person whom Caroline didn’t want to see. I’m the new governess.”

“Of course! Welcome to Herndale Hall, Miss.”

“Aston, Miss Eleanor Aston, but it really is of no importance. I’m just so comforted Caroline is safe. I spoke with her mother briefly, and all the staff had already spread out across the estate. There was no one to follow you except me. I kept hoping I would meet a footman or grounds man while following you, but it didn’t happen.”

“You need not explain…” Sebastian started to say.

“All I need is to know that everyone is safe. I have a fair idea what happened today, and the rest can wait.” Miss Aston paused and looked around her.

“When I have settled in, I believe I shall enjoy walking in these woods. I didn’t expect a forest so close to the high moors.”

“We have the shelter of the fell, the hill, and there has been woodland here since ancient times. You’re right though, we are close to the moors, and you can easily follow the fell path in the other direction and walk on the moors. The views are quite breathtaking.”

“And a fell is a hill?” she asked, intrigued at these words which she had never heard before.

“Indeed, and a valley is a dale. You will find we have our own local dialect hereabouts.”

They walked together, still keeping an eye on Caroline, whose blonde ringlets bobbed in the distance.

“I hear voices,” said Miss Aston.

“I hope that is Caroline re-united with her Mama. We must be nearly at the Hall.”

“Yes, that’s my sister, Amelia, and my Uncle Barnaby ahead,” Sebastian told her.

“I must thank you again for your actions at the ruins of the Dower House. I’ll never forget that moment of terror as the floor collapsed. I don’t think I could have saved her without your help.”

“I’m am greatly relieved I was close by. It has been quite an eventful first day at Herndale Hall,” she told him.

As they reached the edge of the woods, Amelia rushed to greet her brother. “Sebastian. Are you quite well?” she asked him with concern in her voice.

“All’s well,” he assured her.

“Caroline says you saved her, and she nearly fell through the floor of the Elms.”

“She’s right. If it hadn’t been for Miss Aston, I don’t think I could have saved her.”

Amelia turned towards the young woman standing next to her.

“Miss Aston, when I asked you to follow my brother, I had no idea there would be danger. I can only thank you for saving my little girl.”

“It was fortuitous that I found his Grace. Would you like me to begin duties immediately?” Miss Aston asked.

“Oh no, Nurse has taken the children to the nursery.” Amelia smiled.

“Though Caroline tells me that you are to take tea in the library and make a little book about Thomas.”

“She’s quite right,” laughed Sebastian.

“I promised her that before the floor collapsed to try to entice her back to safety. She’s remembered, which suggests she is not too shaken by events.”

“Let’s hope so,” said Amelia.

“Now, Miss Aston, I hope you will be happy at Herndale, and your chamber is ready for you. Mrs. Fernley will show you upstairs and give you a tour of the house.

“Thank you. I will be glad to tidy myself after the… escapade,” admitted Miss Aston.

Sebastian could see the moment his sister became concerned about his shoulder and winced as he tried to straighten himself.

“Sebastian, you’re injured?” Amelia asked him.

“I have sent for Doctor Reid as soon as Caroline disappeared, just in case we needed a surgeon. He’s on his way. He can examine you when he arrives.”

“I wrenched it a little as we pulled Caroline out of the hole in the floor. There is no lasting harm done. I’m not sure about Miss Aston though.” He said this, hoping it might divert attention from himself. He also knew Miss Aston herself had pulled with considerable strength during their attempt to save Caroline.

She turned to Miss Aston.

“Are you injured?” Amelia asked with concern in her voice.

“Our friend and neighbor Doctor Malcolm Reid will be here soon. I can ask him to speak with you.”

“I feel a little sore, but I believe that is to be expected,” Miss Aston told her.

“Pray do not distress yourself.”

“Nonsense. It is sensible for Doctor Reid to examine you. I absolutely insist. I can’t have our new governess becoming ill on her first day. He can give you a draught to help you sleep should the pain increase.”

“Very well,” agreed Miss Aston reluctantly.

“Ah there he is! Malcolm,” Amelia called, and ran across to a sandy haired man standing by the front steps of the Hall.

“It seems we must submit to a medical examination, Miss Aston. I had hoped we had completed our ordeals for today,” said the Duke in a dry tone.

“If it makes Lady Fenwick happy then I shall submit to Doctor Reid’s ministrations. At least we do not have to be examined by Nurse, who is thankfully occupied with the children.”

Her wit drew a hearty laugh from Sebastian. As they walked together, he found himself acutely aware of the young woman walking next to him, the copper highlights shining in her auburn hair in the late afternoon sunshine. She could easily take the character of a governess and be supportive of her mistress agreeing to whatever was suggested. Yet what draw his admiration was in that moment of heightened danger, she had been capable of directing events with determination.

They talked together about the history of the house which had been re-modelled after the English civil war with limestone replacing the medieval wooden frontage.

Sebastian noticed that she did not flinch when she looked at him. He had forgotten what it felt like for someone to cast their eyes upon his countenance without flinching.

 He guided Miss Aston up the steps leading to the hall where Mr. Howarth the butler guided them into the drawing room.

“Doctor Reid is in the nursery, but will join you momentarily he told them.

“Shall I bring tea?” he asked.

“Absolutely” Sebastian smiled at Miss Aston.

“I may take something stronger. Would you care for a class of medicinal Madeira?”

She demurred, smiling, while suggesting he took a glass of cognac, a little stronger than the wine.

“You have been through quite an ordeal your Grace, I’m quite sure the good physician will agree when he joins us.”

“While you await tea, please take a seat near the fire, and warm yourself.”

When Doctor Reid arrived, he announced that all was well with his young patient in the nursery.

“I’ve told Nurse that Caroline must rest, though there were protests about her need to take tea with you, Sebastian, in the library.”

“Oh yes, we have an agreement to meet for tea. It can be postponed for another day if you think that advisable,” explained Sebastian.

“It is not necessary, she needs to enjoy life, and that is my prescription. Now, I believe Miss Aston is next,” He went over to Miss Aston, who assured him she was uninjured.

“I’m not sure I believe you, Miss Aston,” Doctor Reid told her smiling.

“Show me your hands,” he ordered.

Sebastian gasped at the sight of her scraped palms. He hadn’t noticed as they had walked back together to the house.

“I’ll ask Mrs. Fernley to make up a salve for your hands. I have a recipe she can use which is efficacious,” suggested Doctor Reid.

“It’s nothing truly,” she said.

“I have been fortunate.”

“From what Lady Fenwick tells me, the floor collapsed and you could all have been killed,” replied the kind physician.

“I’ve survived far worse than old ruins, and unstable floors,” Miss Aston told him firmly.

Something in her tone caught Sebastian’s attention, and caused him to look towards her with curiosity.

What had Miss Aston survived that made risking death in dangerous ruins seem unremarkable? He wondered.

“Now before you examine me,” Sebastian told the physician.

“I shall take Miss Aston to find Mrs. Fernley. Miss Aston, we can meet tomorrow to discuss how we work together to ensure Caroline enjoys learning. We may need to be creative in the circumstances. For now I suggest you have a rest and take supper in your room if you prefer.”

“Of course,” Miss Aston murmured, and Sebastian could see the tiredness after travel, then events at the Elms etched on her face,

After the new governess had left, he settled to talk with Malcolm.

“I’ve left the Elms until now. I don’t enjoy going there, as you can imagine. However, Amelia felt the children were comforted by visiting it and feeling close to their Papa. Nonetheless, I shall instruct the grounds men to demolish what they can and make it safe as possible.”

“That seems wise Sebastian,” agreed Malcolm.

“There is always a possibility that Caroline might return there again. It was her home, and they had a happy life there.”

Sebastian knew his sister had entered the room from the expression on his friend’s face. He’d had a suspicion there was more than professional concern in Malcolm’s attentiveness to his sister.

Amelia’s voice softened as she moved towards the doctor, and they stood a little closer than propriety demanded.

There is something developing between them, though I don’t believe Amelia is aware of it yet.

Malcolm is too respectful of her loss of Thomas to press his suit. He will though, and I hope it works out for them. Amelia deserves happiness after losing Thomas.

For a moment he felt wistful for their life before the fire. He had been considered the most desirable match and was continuously overwhelmed by a collection of mothers, each determined to parade her accomplished daughters before his notice.

He’d imagined himself in life, captivated by more than one young lady. No one would entertain any thought of his taking their daughter to the alter now… that part of his life was over. He was quite convinced that affection was a luxury he had to relinquish. Though his rank was paramount, he believed that even the most ambitious mama would recoil at the prospect of a son-in-law so cruelly marked by fate.