Chapter 1
When Isabel Ravenshaw stepped into the hall with a slow, heavy sigh, she could see her breath fog up in the dim light.
She suppressed an urge to shudder. Instead, she fixed the heavier of two shawls around her shoulders so one might cover her head. The layer helped keep the worst of chill while she made her way down the hall to the front door.
Behind it stood her maid, Amber, who jumped when Isabel crept closer. It was hardly the behavior for anyone in the household belonging to an earl, but times had certainly changed this past year.
“Who is it?” Isabel whispered. She’d been working on a painting in the drafty parlor when she heard the banging at the door. Without her parents in town, it was up to her to welcome or turn away company.
Me and Aunt Wilhemina, who won’t step near this house. She’s not much of a chaperone, but perhaps that is for the best.
“It’s Cruthers and Brothers,” Amber responded in a hush. “What do I do, my lady?”
How ridiculous it felt to carry a title in a moment like this. Isabel considered laughing, but instead kept her lips shut. She had no reason to use a title in a cold house in the heart of winter even if she was the only daughter of the Earl of Darbyham.
“Don’t let them see you in the painted glass,” Isabel said. “We haven’t the change for them today.”
The shy maid, more desperate than the Ravenshaw family, hastily nodded. Neither of them moved for a tense moment.
Both of them jumped when there was another heavy knock.
“My lady?” Amber squeaked.
“Don’t say another word,” Isabel begged softly.
Painted glass trimmed three sides of their door. While only a single candle burned on a nearby table––Amber might have brought it––it might still be enough to see something. To see her. She prayed that was not the case.
But then the shuffling stopped. Quiet thuds could be heard, footsteps descending the front door.
“He’s gone,” Amber turned and told her eagerly.
Isabel shook her head. “Wait there in case he returns.”
For another three minutes they stood still, biding their time. But at least she felt safe. Straightening up, she nodded to her maid.
Shame washed over her. Cruthers and Brothers would receive their funds eventually. But not now. The little money Isabel had saved was for the limited daily coal and to pay off another creditor that was more urgent.
After this, I might have to begin pawning my jewelry. That will upset my mother. But if my parents won’t respond to my other letters…
“Is everything well?” Amber asked once they were alone again.
Forcing a smile, Isabel nodded. “Well enough. I’m sorry you must deal with this distress. It should have never come to this.”
The young girl shrugged. “You’re a lady.
You don’t have to apologize to the likes of me for anything.
” Pain flickered in the back of her eyes before she blinked.
Her parents had been shipped off to Australia when she was barely ten, leaving her to look for work wherever she could.
She had decent experience as a scullery maid in the countryside when Isabel asked her to train as her new lady’s maid three years ago when she first came out.
What a life that was. It seems an eternity ago, long before…
Everything was split in the middle. Before and after. Before her brother, the future earl, had financially ruined their family. After her parents had slunk away from London in shame.
“Thank you for staying,” Isabel whispered, trying to smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“I’m here for you, my lady. Do you still wish to attend the ball tonight?” Her maid asked after an awkward pause, and bit her lip.
Right. This was absurd. Isabel felt her heart begin to pound for an entirely new reason. This would be the first ball she had been invited to since the season started four months ago. It was the first of December, and she’d only attended a few events.
I have to. No matter how humiliating it is. I won’t let London keep us living in scandal and shame. Someone must defend the Ravenshaw name; if my parents will not, then I shall.
“Of course I will attend.” Isabel tried to sound cheerful while shivering. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Ushering Amber down the hall, she tried to push back the guilt.
Though she would have to find a hackney to deliver her to the ball, it would surely be warm and comfortable and filled with food since Lady Hamperstan knew how to throw a memorable affair.
Meanwhile, she’d be leaving Amber and the other three servants behind in a drafty household with little food in the cupboard.
It didn’t take long for her to prepare for the ball. She wore her best dress that she had spent all week mending, a soft yellow dress that her mother once said made her eyes sparkle, and donned the thickest shawl of the lot. Hopefully no one would see it upon her arrival.
“Good luck,” Amber murmured once she had seen Isabel to a hackney. “You’ll be safe?”
“Of course I shall. I have a key in my reticule, so get yourself to bed. Use the last of the coal and warm yourself, dear,” Isabel added gently while tucking her skirts beneath her. “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”
And then Isabel put on a brave smile for the evening.
Stares pressed her the moment she arrived. Even though she’d halted the hackney before anyone could see what dire straits she lived in, Isabel felt everyone watching while she offered up her cloak and tried not to shiver. Instead, she fixed her shoulders to go greet her hosts.
“Lady Isabel, you made it. What a pleasant surprise,” Lady Hamperstan said in the receiving line with a rigid smile. She motioned to her husband, the marquess. “Look, my dear. Lady Isabel has joined us.”
The man glanced at her over his spectacles. “Interesting. Good evening,” he added after his wife nudged him. “Welcome.”
Noticing the way they avoided mentioning her family or the family name, Isabel wondered if she should be grateful or upset. It was awfully complicated of late to know just what to feel.
Not enough heirs to an earldom have financially ruined their family, I’m afraid, for me to know what I’m supposed to do or how I must act.
All Isabel knew how to do was act the part of an admiring young lady.
Upon her coming out three years ago at eight-and-ten, she had been welcomed with warmth and excitement.
There were constant suitors and friendly smiles, an endless flow of invitations.
She had danced until dawn, flirted prettily, and had thought she had the world at her feet.
Everything had been going so well. This was supposed to be her year to marry, to revel, to love everything. But early summer had changed her family’s life when her brother was caught embezzling funds from the Crown.
Thomas, why?
Most of the matter had been righted. But her brother had been guilty.
He pled innocent, dragging down others without titles who were sent away.
But as an heir, Thomas talked them into his freedom.
And then when they promised no punishment, he still had slunk off in shame.
The stain was there no matter what. Now her parents too had run off to the country, even after Isabel refused.
And now she was alone.
Isabel felt this more than ever as she entered the ballroom, seeing the wash of warm candlelight and bright music echoing off the walls.
She was surrounded by smiles and laughter and beauty.
Only none of it was directed to her. No one even wanted to brush by her, leaving a wide gap wherever she walked.
After it was clear no one would speak to her, let alone invite her to dance, Isabel took her strained smile to the edge of the ballroom where the terrace doors were cracked open for fresh air.
Snow began to fall. Glittery white clouded the dark evening. She watched it, telling herself she was not hiding. She would not disappear in shame. She was still here. The Ravenshaw name would be defended.
We are not broken. I am not broken.
“Good lord,” came a loud familiar voice with a heavy sigh. “What a stink we have here. I couldn’t possibly imagine where it is coming from. Can’t we open the doors?”
Spine stiffening, Isabel turned.
She couldn’t stop the blush creeping her cheeks when she met the gaze of Lady Lucy Trembling, a young lady Isabel once thought might become her sister-in-law.
But after Thomas’s name showed up in the papers, Lady Lucy cried it was a trap.
Isabel had thought they were friends. The malice in the blonde’s eyes told her otherwise.
Around Lucy stood three gentlemen, all chortling. They, however, couldn’t bring themselves to look at Isabel.
“We can open the doors wider,” offered one of them.
“I think it best we find another location,” suggested another.
Lucy twittered, flashing her fan. “What clever gentlemen you are. Oh, having such grand and handsome company is terribly overwhelming. Whatever shall I do with all three of you?”
Hearing them natter on had Isabel clutching her hands into fists because she knew there was nothing she could do. Nothing she would do. Goodness gracious, she would never stoop so low to be insulting. No, she would be better than Lucy. She would be better than all of them.
She tried, at least. But it proved nearly impossible that evening to creep out from under her brother’s shadow.
When she stepped out into the hall to escape the crowd of the ballroom, Lucy found a familiar face right outside the cards room. Lord Percy Gright. They had begun courting recently when Thomas’s faults had come to light, and she had hoped…
She passed by to meet his gaze, wondering if he might greet her. At least a nod. A smile, even, would do wonders for her spirits.
Lord Gright was as handsome as ever. Tall with feathery yellow hair and bold blue eyes, he looked like a young Apollo in the finest clothing.