PROLOGUE
Lancashire England, 1813
After another failed season, Lady Annabella Lindlow was more than pleased to join her cousins at their grandmother’s country house. The rambling estate near the Irish Sea was the perfect place to hide from failure and recuperate from disappointments. Both of which the previous season provided in spades.
Annie had hoped it would be her season to find love. At the very least, she had wished to dance and flirt with handsome gentlemen. But then, she wasn’t the bold sort. And as such, had spent most of the season with the wallflowers. Annie blew a stray curl from her eye as she glanced up at her cousins. Eva, Lilli, and Henrietta had fared no better than she. All of them remained unwed and without serious suitors as the season concluded— a situation which none of their parents would allow them to forget.
Not that any of them needed reminders. Annie was certain her cousins felt the disappointment of failure just as sharply as she did. But the Lancashire countryside and their dear Gran would prove the perfect reprieve. In fact, they already had. Annie’s spirits had lifted considerably since she arrived at Gran’s a sennight past. Lancashire magic, Annie called it. There was simply something in the air that lifted her spirits.
She closed the lid of the old oak trunk she’d been digging through, then stood and dusted her hands on her skirt.
“There is nothing save for old gowns and frills in that one.” “N-nothing here either,” Eva, Miss Evangelina Payne, said.
Eva suffered from a slight stutter, which started in childhood and had never quite been corrected. In Annie’s opinion, it made Eva unique and added to her charm. However, one could not help but wonder what role Eva’s stutter played in her inability to find a husband. She smiled at Eva, then looked across Gran’s attic to where Henrietta and Lilliana searched.
“Shall we go see how they are fairing?” Eva nodded as she pushed herself up, then dusted her bum. “I’d wager no-one has b-been up here in at least a century.” Ha-Chu. Eva brought her hand up to capture her sneeze. “It’s quite d-d-dusty.”
“Indeed, though I’d wager the servants venture here at least a couple times a year,” Annie said as she strolled beside Eva.
The four of them had come up to the attic searching for painting supplies for Henrietta. Old canvases and brushes Gran said were packed away. Of course, Gran had offered to send a servant to retrieve the supplies, but Lilliana had insisted the girls go in search of them. Lilli was a romantic dreamer, with an adventurous nature. And this was just the sort of thing she thrived on. She’d thought going up to the attic would prove an excellent diversion.
They had all agreed at the time and eagerly embraced the adventure—that had been no less than an hour ago and before they’d realized what a dusty and cumbersome mission, they had undertaken. Annie, for one, was over the adventure. She desperately wished to return to her room and order a bath.
“Have you found them?” She called to Henrietta and Lilli.
Henrietta held up a canvas painting of a young lady but shook her head, dark blue eyes shining in the dim light of the attic. “No, but I discovered a trove of paintings. Look, I think this one is of Gran.”
She peeked over the top of the canvas, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “I wonder who painted it?”
Eva stepped closer, her head angled as she studied the painting.
“Whoever the artist is, he was quite good,” Henrietta said.
Eva grinned, her gaze moving to Henrietta’s, “You are j-just as good.”
Henrietta sighed. “Someday, perhaps.” She sat the canvas aside. “With more practice.”
Annie fanned her face with her hand. “It is stifling up here. Please tell me the supplies were with that painting?”
Henrietta’s shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid I cannot.”
Annie wrapped her arm around Henrietta’s shoulders. “Now we have the perfect excuse for an excursion into the village.” She gave Henrietta a slight squeeze. “Surely fresh supplies are preferable to dusty old ones.”
Lilli looked at them from where she sat perched on an old oak trunk, her hazel eyes full of excitement. “Come see what I found.”
A small trinket box shaped like a treasure chest sat on her knees, its red velvet lined lid propped open. She held a piece of parchment in her hands. “It’s a love letter.” She grinned.
“From whom?” Eva asked.
“To whom?” Annie asked.
Henrietta reached for the parchment. “Let me see?”
“R-read it aloud,” Eva said as she stared over Henrietta’s shoulder.
Dearest Theodora,
My heart aches for you every moment we are apart. You are my first thought each morning, and I fall asleep with your image in my mind. My heart beats only for you, and knowing that your love is true makes my days bearable. Until we are together again, know that I love you, that I miss you, and that I long to be at your side. Ever yours, A—
