Her Ladyship’s Christmas Companion

1. Chapter One

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Chapter One

My dearest Honor,

I was overjoyed to receive your letter- and so soon after I had written you. You’ve always been such a slow writer, I was amazed to see how quickly you replied. You must have taken my scolding to heart. It all comes from love, I swear.

I was even more overjoyed to hear that you had taken a position as a governess in the north. You will have to remind me of where it is, as I’ve left your letter upstairs and am being terribly lazy about going and fetching it.

I really do think this would be an excellent change for you. I know the last we spoke that Uncle Jacob had been a bit, shall we say, testy lately. Of course, it would be un-niece-ly to speak poorly of my dear uncle, but we both know how he can get when ‘Change isn’t obeying his every move. Your move to the country will be good for the both of you, I am sure of it. I know you were concerned about the length of time you might be employed. If memory serves, this is only meant to be a temporary posting. I would not be so concerned. You worry so much, Honor, that you practically worry yourself into the future. Enjoy yourself, and enjoy the winter season. You have always wished to see the ocean. Now you shall. Focus on that.

You must write to tell me how everything goes. I want to know everything. Is the child a true brat, or is he not intolerable? Is there a handsome brother you might elope with? If so- is there one for me too?

Please write me when you can. I shall be on my toes until I hear, so if I break any bones and can never dance again, it really will be your fault. Let me know how it goes, and for pity’s sake, enjoy yourself. Send me a shell if you can.

Yours very dearly, and always your favorite cousin,

Kathryn

Honor Holt, recently of London, currently of wherever-this-carriage-was, Northern England, put down her letter and sighed. Dear Cousin Kathryn. She had been the first person Honor had written when her placement was confirmed. Kathryn had been Honor’s closest friend since they were young, and she was Honor’s biggest supporter. Anything that happened to her cousin was a balm to her bored soul. Kathryn was from the far richer side of the family, and had little to do but play the harpsichord and wait for something exciting. And thus she was far more excited this for Honor than Honor was.

Not that that was anything new. Honor was very rarely excited about anything. She was a cool, level-headed woman of her time. She wasn’t flighty. She wasn’t dramatic. And she certainly didn’t get nervous.

…Except for now.

Honor leaned against the carriage seat. The fabric within was far nicer than anything she’d ever been in before. Herecross Manor, and the Lintons who lived there, were far different from anything she’d ever been around. It made sense that their carriages would be the same, but it was shocking all the same.

Much like the offer itself, Honor supposed. She glanced out the window and allowed her thoughts to wander. There was plenty of time to pass before she arrived. The offer had come into Honor’s life only a few weeks ago. It had come to her attention through a friend of her father’s. Honor’s father, Jacob Holt, was an esteemed moneylender in London. Or at least, he was as esteemed a moneylender as a moneylender could be. He was a tightfisted penny-pincher of the worst degree, and he’d been born poorer than poor. He was rich in wealth, and in good sense, and he had his share of wealthy customers. Through them, the story of Herecross Manor had come to Honor.

Herecross Manor. Honor had memorized everything there was to know about Herecross Manor, and the family that lived within it. Honor had a keen memory, and she had put it to good use.

Herecross Manor was located in the north of England, right besides the cold North Sea. It was located in Northumberland. On a good day, one could be in Scotland in just a few hours. It was the seat of the Lintons, Earls of Morewood. The Lintons had held the seat in some way, shape, or form for the past few centuries. It was said that a Linton lady in waiting had been a bosom friend of Jane Seymour when she came to the throne, and her affectionate care for her queen had made the family a favorite of Edward VI. The family had flourished under the young king’s short reign, and had been blessed with the good sense to save money for when the sickly king died. They had weathered the reign of Mary I, welcomed Elizabeth with friendly smiles, ignored the Scottish kings as politely as they could, suffered under Cromwell, but regained their footing with the Restoration. They’d welcomed the Protestant queens Mary and Anne, and had been among the first to smile at the arrival of the Georges. Yes, the Lintons had been defined over their long legacy by their good sense and their prudent ability to adapt. Stodgy, serious, and practical minded, the Lintons might not be invited to the Prince Regent’s parties, but they stood respected by the bon ton . They were a perfectly respectable family to work for.

Honor liked that. She was an aptly named young woman. She was perfectly respectable in all regards, and liked things to be the same. Pale, with dark hair and a perfectly average face and figure, Honor was as serious-minded as her father and just as clever. Her beauty would win her no prizes, and it would bring her no matches, but she had her wits to survive with, and they were quite generous. When her father had told her of the current woes at Herecross Manor, she was more than interested.

The current generation of Lintons had been defined by tragedy, albeit scandal-free. The previous Lord Linton had been a duty-focused man with a zeal for service, and an appetite for any kind of food. He’d died young of a heart attack. His wife had predeceased him by many years, having died when her children were very young. Their son and the current Earl, Lord Henry Linton, was away in the war against Napoleon. A career soldier, he had inherited his position after his elder brother (the heir) had died of sickness. He had been married prior to his inheriting the Earldom, but his wife had died in childbirth a few months ago. This left two children who needed tending. The eldest was his daughter, Lady Anne, a girl of six years. The second was the little Viscount, the infant Henry Linton. Henry had a nurse, apparently, but Anne was in need of a governess, and the family had gone in search of somebody to fill the role.

That was where Honor rather came into the story.

Honor closed her book of notes and stared ahead, trying to stifle the way her hands shook. All would be well. Her references were impeccable. She had always been on top of her studies, and had a spotless reputation. She was a respectable, sober, stern, simple spinster who would admirably serve in her position, which was raising the respectable, sober, stern, simple aristocrats of tomorrow.

All would be well.

She wouldn’t have to think about anything she didn’t want to here.

All would be well.

She wouldn’t have to think about Father, or smoggy London, or the world she was leaving behind of fools and sycophants.

All would be well.

And she certainly wouldn’t ever think of Lady Anna Price.

The carriage pulled to a sharp stop.

“Miss Holt? We’ve arrived.”