Prologue
London, England
November 1884
Miss Charlotte Danvers stepped out of the hackney she’d taken from the rail station to her mother’s home right outside of Mayfair in London. She was excited at the surprise she planned for Mama.
Charlotte had spent most of her life in France at an exclusive girls’ school. Once she graduated, with her mother’s encouragement, she’d taken a teaching position at the school. That was three years ago, and now she was ready for the next phase in her life. The first step was moving to London to be with her mother.
She dropped the knocker on the front door as the hackney driver piled her luggage on the doorstep.
The door opened to an older man, obviously the butler, who stared at her as if he’d seen a ghost. “Miss Danvers? Surely that must be you.”
“Yes!” She grinned. “I don’t know who you are, but you seem to know me.”
He bowed at her but looked a bit uncomfortable. “I would know you anywhere Miss Danvers. You look remarkedly like your mother.”
“Yes. I’ve been told that many times.” When the man continued to stare at her, she said, “May I come in?”
He stepped back, quite flustered. “Of course. My apologies, miss.”
Charlotte drew off her gloves as she looked around the house she’d never seen before. Her earlier years had been spent in the country with a family who were friends of her mother. Mama told her she did not want her breathing in the putrid London air. Then at ten years of age, she’d been sent to the school in France.
“I hope my mother is home.”
“Yes. She is. If you would retire to the drawing room, I shall inform her of your arrival.”
Goodness, it all seemed so formal. What she wanted to do was race upstairs and find her mother and shout “surprise!” Wouldn’t that bring a smile to her face?
Within minutes, the sound of footsteps rapidly coming down the stairs had Charlotte jumping up to meet her mother at the door to the drawing room. “Mama. Surprise! I left my position at the school and decided it was past the time I should join you here.”
Mama looked quite pale under the makeup she wore. Charlotte had never seen makeup on her mother’s face, so it was a surprise. She immediately decided she liked her better without face paint.
Her mother hugged her. “My dear. Yes, this is quite a surprise.” She leaned back, her hands resting on Charlotte’s shoulders and regarded her. “Why didn’t you wire that you were coming?”
Charlotte grinned. “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”
“No. Indeed it would not.”
For the first time she could ever recall, Mama seemed to be at loss for words. “Are you well, Mama? Is something wrong?”
“Yes. No.” She waved her arm around. “I am just trying to recover from this shock . . . rather, surprise.”
“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful? I decided it was time to start my life as a woman and maybe even look for a husband.”
Mama drew a lace-edged handkerchief from the cuff of her dress and patted her face.
“You seem quite fancy,” Charlotte said, “are you going out for the evening?”