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One

December 21, 1817

In the humble opinion of Miss Leah Sterling, the grand estate of Bellthorne Hall was rather excessively grand. She landed lightly on her feet outside the carriage, releasing the hand of the footman who had descended from the front doors faster than a bird of prey to assist her. She squinted at the looming house ahead, the rich color of the golden stone muted by the cold, foggy air.

Before she could approve of the action, another duo of footmen in yellow livery had begun carrying her trunks toward the estate.

Was that it, then?

Would she not have a chance to escape if she found the inside of the house unsuitable? Leah liked to pretend she was an expert on such things, but in reality, she was more likely to have to force her jaw from falling open at the sight of all the expensive furnishings the Countess of Dalmeer had curated, as well as the fifty elegant guests she had invited to spend the next three weeks at her Yuletide house party.

The invitation could not have been more unexpected—or perfectly convenient. Leah’s gratitude was owed to her cousin, Katherine, and her husband Tom, who were acquainted with the countess. Lady Dalmeer had been searching for more eligible young ladies to join her house party, and Katherine had immediately thought of Leah.

Eligible was a strong word. Leah was often more negligible than anything. But she was unmarried and knew how to behave properly under most circumstances. If that was sufficient, then she could certainly try to find a place to belong in such a grand house for the next several weeks. Her insides spiraled with nerves as Katherine stepped up beside her.

“There are worse places to spend the Christmastide, are there not?” Katherine’s voice was laced with envy, though Leah couldn’t imagine why. She was already quite rich enough.

“Certainly,” Leah agreed. She cast a sidelong glance at her cousin’s fine traveling dress and jeweled necklace. Katherine was nearing thirty, yet she had married Tom a decade before, around the time Leah’s eldest sister had married. Fine gowns and jeweled necklaces had never enticed Leah to the idea of marriage, but rather the freedom to not be left alone or passed around like a cream pot to any hospitable relatives who would accept her while her parents traveled the world.

“Don’t forget…” Katherine turned her secretive gaze toward Leah and mouthed one very important word.

Switzerland.

Leah nodded, a wave of excitement knocking the air from her lungs.

Katherine grinned in response.

Every moment, every interaction, and especially every first impression over the next three weeks mattered immensely. This house party was more than a relaxing Christmas escape. It was a matter of business. It was the means of fulfilling Leah’s greatest dream.

Tom was unaware of what the word Switzerland meant, or the bargain it entailed. It was a secret riddle of sorts, the meaning of which only Katherine and Leah understood. Surely Tom would disapprove, which was precisely why Katherine still had her back turned to him. He looked eager to make his way to the front doors, shivering from where he stood several paces ahead. His impatient exhale left a puff of fog in the air.

Leah touched the back of her head with a grimace. She had slept a little too roughly on her hair in the carriage, it seemed. A few strands had fallen loose from her coiffure, but her lady’s maid, Grace, hadn’t yet arrived.

Leah tucked the strands away as she followed Katherine and Tom toward the entrance of Bellthorne Hall.

She took a deep breath as they reached the large white front doors. Her nerves were certainly not unfounded. Not only did she have a very large task in front of her, but she had a history of failure.

Christmas had brought with it very bad luck once before.

She shushed her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking of her failures. All she was to be thinking of was Switzerland—and putting one foot in front of the other. The golden wings of the house surrounded her on both sides, like two arms closing in to embrace her. Even so, there was something cold and uninviting about the structure, like an embrace from a distant uncle instead of a friend.

She followed Katherine and Tom into the grand entry hall, where the black and white polished floors shone in the afternoon light. Statues stood watch on both sides of the vestibule, and fluted stone pillars upheld the lofty domed ceiling. It stretched up so high that Leah could hardly see the details of the intricate painting that must have taken decades to complete.

But she could see a woman standing on the balcony beneath it.

She stood tall, hands interlaced over the railing. Golden curls that matched the exterior of the house were piled high atop her head, framing her smiling face. Her rather small eyes squinted as she examined her most recent arrivals.

Considering her extravagant manner of dress, and the way she had perched herself on the balcony, the woman could only have been their hostess, Lady Dalmeer.

“Welcome to Bellthorne Hall!” Her cheerful voice echoed. Leah found it strange that she had chosen to welcome them from the floor above, but perhaps it gave her a better vantage point to observe their manners and dress.

Leah dropped into a deep curtsy, offering a wide smile to her hostess.

Lady Dalmeer did seem like the smiling sort.

Leah would be the smiling sort as well if she had an estate and fortune like this all to herself. The countess met them in the entry hall, and the butler’s deep voice offered their introductions.

“Mrs. Wintle will show you to your rooms,” Lady Dalmeer said in a singsong voice as the housekeeper appeared at their side. “A notice of events is awaiting you there.”