Prologue
Chatsworth 1825
Lady Louisa Kirkwood had a dream. In it, she was a young schoolgirl standing beside a large oak tree in the front garden of Courtly Manor. Yet, she was not alone. Her closest friends and schoolmates, as well as the headmistress of Mrs. Rutley’s School for Young Women, were beside her. Joined hand in hand, each shared her innermost secret.
They had been called the Sisterhood of Secrets. Not only for what was shared that day, but for all the time after that fateful day each enjoyed at the school.
Yet as she opened her eyes and stared at the initials carved in the trunk of the tree, she reminded herself that it had not been a dream. The very incident had taken place twenty years earlier.
She had been so young then, the youngest daughter of a wealthy merchant and not yet eighteen. Her honey-blonde hair had no silver as it did now, and there had been no crow’s feet at the corner of her eyes. And all her hopes and dreams lay before her.
Because of the help she had received from Mrs. Agnes Rutley, most had come true. Her headmistress reared her students not only to become young ladies ready to enter into society but also to be better women—intelligent and confident. Lessons that Louisa had experienced and used in her life since leaving the school.
Her headmistress, whose health was failing, recently requested Louisa’s attendance and likely that of the others from the Sisterhood of Secrets. Louisa had not hesitated to pack a trunk for the journey.
Her youngest child, Meredith, had heard many stories about Mrs. Rutley, yet she still could not comprehend why her mother would make such a fuss over a woman who was no longer in Louisa’s life.
“I know she helped you, Mama, but why must you leave?” her twelve-year-old daughter had asked. “She was just your headmistress. It’s not as if she’s family.”
Placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder, Louisa brushed away a strand of golden hair. The girl was beautiful and always curious. With a smile, Louisa replied, “Because I gave my word—as a lady and a friend—that if any of my friends were in need, I would come. And I cannot break my word now, can I?”
Meredith had sighed dramatically—a common reaction to most situations that did not go as she wanted. “I suppose not. But you mustn’t be gone long, Mama. Please say you’ll return soon.”
Louisa had kissed her daughter’s cheek and replied, “I promise, my dear. And you must give me your word that you’ll follow all Miss Readsy’s instructions and work extra hard on your lessons.”
“I always work hard on my lessons, Mama,” Meredith said with a jut to her chin. “So, I see no reason to promise.” After a quick arch of Louisa’s eyebrow, however, she quickly added, “Yes, Mama, I promise.”
With a firm shake of her head to clear her mind, Louisa turned and walked back toward the house. It was not just a school for young girls, for it had also been their home. A place of refuge, their headmistress as loving as any parent.
Judging by the carriages that lined the drive—and the crests that adorned them—several of her old friends had already arrived. Such a pity they had not been better about exchanging letters, but life tended to break old ties.
A smile broke across her face when a familiar figure opened the door after she rang the bell. Mrs. Shepherd had touched Louisa’s life in so many wonderful ways but had changed little in the last twenty years. Granted, gray now peeked out beneath the kerchief she wore where dark once had reigned, and more lines showed in her round face, but otherwise she had changed little since Louisa had last seen her. Especially her smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Shepherd,” Louisa said. “You haven’t aged a day.” She leaned in close and added in a whisper, “What is your secret?”
“Now, I won’t have you telling fibs,” Mrs. Shepherd said, although she beamed at the compliment. “Or I’ll send you to the kitchen to wash dishes.”
Louisa laughed and embraced the cook. How many times had she heard Mrs. Shepherd make this same threat during her years at the school? Too many to count. Yet Louisa had never witnessed any of the students receiving such a punishment. It might have happened but not in her time there.
A wave of guilt washed over her for not returning to Courtly Manor sooner. “It’s been too long,” she said, unable to hide the regret she felt. “Time passed so quickly, you see. And then came the children—”
Mrs. Shepherd grabbed Louisa’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “You did exactly what Mrs. Rutley hoped you’d do—raise a family and be happy.” She tilted her head. “You are happy, aren’t you?”
Louisa nodded. “Very.”
“And you’re here now,” the cook said. “That’s what matters most. You’ll find Mrs. Rutley upstairs in bed. Go on up and see her. I’ll see your things are settled into a room.”
With a grateful smile, Louisa stepped into the foyer and came to a stop. She could almost see Unity Ancell and Theodosia Renwick laughing as they hurried up the stairs, both wearing dresses they had ordered to be exactly the same.
And there was Julia Wallace scolding Ruth Lockhart for her mischievous behavior, a regular occurrence when both girls were together. Jenny Clifton was donning her pelisse, Emma Hunter at her side, chatting away about which shops they would visit during their time in the village of Chatsworth.
They were all so young then. The world ahead of them was uncharted.
Stepping off the top step, Louisa walked down the corridor that led to her headmistress’s room. A sliver of light glinted on the floor as she approached. When she opened the door, she was immediately engulfed by Jenny’s arms.
“I knew you would come,” her friend said. “How long has it been since we last saw one another? Six years? Seven?”
“Too long,” Louisa said. Her grin widened when her eyes fell on the others—Julia, Emma, and Diana. Each embraced her, whispering welcomes in her ear.