Prologue

Prologue

M iss Juliet Adams pulled her cloak tight around herself. She shivered as an icy wind blew through her. Her cloak had seen better days and offered little in the way of warmth. Everything she owned was at least three years old and ill fitting. She could not remember the last time she'd had an update in her wardrobe. It had definitely been before her father had become bedridden, and since his death her situation had taken an even more dire turn.

This was her last chance. She had nowhere else to go. If she didn't obtain this position, she didn't know where she might end up. Juliet feared she might have to do things she never imagined possible. Truthfully, she had already gone down that path to some degree. Soon she'd be forced to beg for food and pray she didn't freeze to death on the London streets.

Slowly, she walked up the path leading to the elegant townhouse. The lavish architecture and lush gardens were nothing like the home Juliet had grown up in. Her father had been a vicar, and his house had been unadorned and simple. He hadn't believed that a person should live with so much luxury. Not that he faulted those that did have a more extravagant lifestyle. It was a matter of choice and beliefs. At least, that is what her father told her. She believed he'd convinced himself that fate had given him everything he needed so he could accept they were poor.

She was not so devout.

Juliet needed little. She hadn't been given every opportunity that other ladies had. But there were some necessities she could not go without. Basic things like food, shelter, and proper attire. She had none of those things. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her attire could be considered proper even if it was old and ill fitting… No one would mistake her as a woman of ill-repute, and she certainly didn't have clothing befitting a rich man's mistress.

Though that position sounded more appealing by the day.

Finally, Juliet reached the front entrance. Juliet lifted her cold, stiff fingers and lifted the knocker, then rapped it twice against the large wood door. Another chilly wind racked through her entire body. Her teeth chattered as she waited for someone to open the door. She prayed it wouldn't be much longer. Surely someone was home. Had she made another mistake? She'd made so many and she couldn't afford another one.

The door opened and an older gentleman stood before her. He had pure white hair and bushy eyebrows that matched. His eyes were a watery blue and with fine lines in the corners. He stared at her for several moments before speaking. "How may I help you," he asked in a hoarse voice that seemed almost as weathered as the man himself.

"I'm here to see Lady Wyndam," she told him.

"Is she expecting you," he inquired. "Do you have a calling card?"

This was the hard part. The Dowager Countess of Wyndam wouldn't be expecting her. Why should she? She had been a good friend of her grandfather's and she prayed the countess could help her. Juliet needed work of some kind. She didn't expect charity. "I'm afraid I do not have a card," she said. "My name is Miss Juliet Adams. Could you please let her know I am here?"

The old man studied her and then opened the door wider. "Come inside out of the cold." Juliet entered and glanced around the foyer. It was as grand as the outside and she hadn't walked very far into the townhouse, and the warmth almost hurt against her frozen limbs. "Wait here," he told her. "I'll see if Lady Wyndam is at home to visitors."

He walked away and didn't glance back. The old man must trust she wouldn't try to steal anything or go anywhere she wasn't allowed to. Juliet rubbed her hands together and sighed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this warm. The small room she'd been able to let for the past week had provided none. It had thin walls and no hearth to light a fire in. The only thing it gave her was a small reprieve from the worst of the cold weather.

The butler came back to the foyer and met her gaze. "Please follow me," he said. "The countess will see you in her sitting room."

Juliet did as he ordered. It didn't take long for them to arrive at the countess's sitting room. They walked inside and the countess sat in a hair with an ornate cane in one of her hands. There was a fire burning in the hearth. The afternoon sun bathed the room in light through the large windows. She smiled at the butler and said, "Have tea and biscuits sent in. We will be a while."

"Yes, my lady," the butler said and left them alone.

Once he was gone, Lady Wyndam turned to her. "Come sit, girl. You look as if you haven't slept in days."

She had slept little. Juliet had been far too cold to properly rest, and her situation was enough to keep anyone from sleeping properly. "Yes, my lady," she replied, then sat on the settee across from her. "Thank you for seeing me."

Lady Wyndam narrowed her gaze. "You're Regina's daughter, aren't you?"

Her mother had been born Regina Jones, daughter of Baron Redcliffe. Her grandfather had died before she was born, and her mother had given her life by bringing Juliet into the world. "I am," she said.

"I thought so," she said. "Your father died a fortnight ago. Why are you not with your stepmother and younger sister?"

Juliet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My father's vicarage is being taken over by a new vicar and their family. He wasn't…" She took a moment to garner a bit of courage. "He didn't have much and we're quite poor. At least I am…"

"I see," Lady Wyndam said. "You need not say more. I understand completely." The countess sighed. "Your stepmother went to live with her father and took Clara with her." She tilted her head to the side. "You're eighteen now, are you not? She probably thought you're old enough to see to your own needs. Millicent has always been selfish, and honestly, she wouldn't care about Clara either if she could leave her to her own devices. It doesn't matter that she'd her daughter and you're not. That's never mattered to your stepmother."

"No, it hasn't." Her stepmother had always treated Clara and Juliet the same. Clara was with her now because she was the granddaughter of a viscount, and it was conditional she brought her home with her. Millicent's family would take care of her and her daughter, but her stepdaughter wasn't their concern. Her stepmother had come by her selfishness honestly. "Lady Wyndam," Juliet began. "I need help finding a position. I need to be able to support myself. Will you help me?"

"Of course, dear," she said, then smiled. "And I have the perfect position for you."

"You do?" Was it really that easy? "What position?"

"You will be my companion and aide. I'm not as young as I used to be and I forget things." She tapped the side of her head. "You can help me remember what I should and live here with me. It will make my life much easier. Do you think you can do that?"

Juliet didn't believe for one second that Lady Wyndam was that forgetful. This was her way of making sure Juliet didn't end up on the streets. She wanted to say no and that she did not expect charity. However, she was no fool. This was position would save her life and she would be the best companion a lady could have. "I can," she said in a soft tone. "Thank you."

"Ah, here is the tea." A maid strolled in carrying a tray with the tea and biscuits. "Set it over there, Sarah. We can pour ourselves." The maid did as she was instructed, then left the room. "Now that we settled, you're to be my companion. It is time to discuss the rest of it. Tomorrow we will have my seamstress make you new gowns. You must be presentable when we are socializing. I'll also expect you to keep up my correspondence and social engagements."

"I can't…"

"Do not tell me you cannot accept the gowns. You need them and it is part of your position to look the part of a proper lady's companion. Consider it part of your salary." Lady Wyndam grinned. "This will not be an easy position. Take the benefits I'm offering you."

Juliet smiled. "Very well."

"Now pour us some tea and we will discuss the rest."

One day, Juliet hoped to be as strong willed and confident as Lady Wyndam. She owed the countess so much, and she hadn't really begun to be her companion. This had been her last hope, and somehow it had worked out better than she could ever have expected. She'd lost so much in a short time. Perhaps her life had finally taken a turn for the better…