One month later and Sarah found herself waving goodbye to Mr. Stanton and Mrs. Stanton, feeling as though her heart were about to break in half. She had not expected to feel so upset, but the tears on Mrs. Stanton’s cheeks were enough to tear anyone’s heart asunder. Their goodbye had been long and drawn out, and as the carriage left the grounds of the only home Sarah knew, she felt herself break into sobs.

“There, there,” Mrs. Avis said soothingly, reaching forward to pat Sarah’s hand. “You are being very brave so far, Miss Weston, and I am sure that you will do very well once we get to London.”

Sarah drew in a sharp breath and tried to steady herself. “Thank you, Mrs. Avis,” she said quietly. “It is just rather difficult leaving the home and the parents that have surrounded me for so long.” Seeing Mrs. Avis’s surprised look, Sarah gave her a small smile, as she dabbed at her cheeks with a handkerchief. “Mr. Stanton is not my father, and Mrs. Stanton not my mother, but they have become those things to me, although I did not recognize that until a few short weeks ago.”

Mrs. Avis’s eyes warmed with understanding. “I see. They seem heartily sorry to be losing you.”

“They are,” Sarah replied quietly. “And yet I know this is what I must do.”

Mrs. Avis settled back in her seat and made no more comment, pulling out her knitting and beginning to continue with whatever it was she was creating. Sarah closed her eyes and let the sound of the knitting needles soothe her fractious mind, listening to nothing but their noise and letting all other thoughts drift away.

It was not until a few hours later that Sarah awoke, realizing with a start that she had fallen asleep within a few minutes of leaving the Stantons’ home. Mrs. Avis was also asleep, her knitting now set aside carefully as her head rocked gently from side to side. Sarah had been glad of her company thus far, even if she had only been awake for a few minutes, but to know that someone was there with her when she awoke was a comfort indeed. Mrs. Avis had responded to Mr. Stanton’s notice for a companion for his wife, but when she arrived for the interview, Mrs. Avis was told that a companion was needed for Sarah. Mrs. Avis had accepted this change with ease, and since Sarah found herself liking Mrs. Avis so very much, she had been offered the position within a few hours of arriving for the interview.

Mrs. Avis, who was an unmarried sister of some titled but thrifty lord, had a coil of grey hair pinned neatly to the back of her head, which matched the severity of her clothing. Regardless, Sarah found her to be an amicable and conversational lady, who she was sure would be more than an excellent companion. There had been a little too-ing and fro-ing as Mrs. Avis had returned home for her things, mentioning to Sarah about her quiet, nondescript cottage and somewhat feral cat, which had made Sarah smile. Mrs. Avis seemed as glad to have Sarah’s company as she was to have hers, which boded well for their future together. Sarah was unsure as to how long she would require Mrs. Avis, but the lady seemed in no desperate hurry to return home, assuring Sarah that the cat had gone to a neighbor, who often took it in whenever Mrs. Avis went away.

Sighing to herself, Sarah looked out of the window into the growing darkness. It was to be two more days of traveling until they arrived in London, and they would stay in an inn nearby overnight, although she could not see any kind of village or town in the distance as yet. It felt so strange to be a woman traveling alone, a woman with wealth and fortune in her own right. She had been forced to purchase a great many things, including the carriage so that she might have means of transportation. Whilst Mr. Featherstone had offered his services, Sarah had chosen to deal with another solicitor entirely, one whom Mr. Stanton knew of in London. Her solicitor had taken matters in hand, working with her new steward, Mr. Fernley, who together had found her a new household staff and furniture for her home in London. Mr. Stanton, however, had insisted on vetting each member of her household staff himself, which Sarah had found both frustrating and kind. He was clearly still rather concerned for her welfare, and even though this lengthened the process, Sarah could not help but be grateful for Mr. Stanton’s kindness.

Now that all was settled, Sarah knew she was certain to find her new home comfortable. A flurry of nerves settled in her stomach, as she continued to look out of the window, feeling as though she were a rabbit drawing purposefully closer to the hunter’s snare. There was little point in worrying, she told herself firmly. She had made a plan and fully intended to stick to it.

Lord Thorndyke’s manor house, Thorndyke Estate, was on her way to London. She had sent a letter, only to receive the response that Lord Thorndyke had gone to London for the start of the Season. That did not inconvenience her in the least, however, for she still fully intended to call on him in London in the hope that Lord James Thorndyke would see her.

Mr. Stanton had said clearly that Lord Thorndyke might not even know of her existence since it had been his father who had arranged everything with him regarding Sarah and her future. Even that was not about to dissuade Sarah from calling upon the man. Whether he knew anything about her or not, Sarah had to know the truth. She had no other place to start.

It took Sarah three days to reach London, given that one of the carriage wheels had broken during their travels, forcing her to remain at an inn for an extra night whilst it was fixed. She could not help but be even more anxious than usual that night, wondering if the carriage wheel was truly an accident or if there was something else, more sinister, chasing her.

Mrs. Avis had been somewhat unsure as to why Sarah had been acting in such a tense manner, and so—having not explained herself before—Sarah had chosen to tell Mrs. Avis everything. The lady had accepted everything calmly, showing no expression of surprise or even horror on hearing about the locket and note. Given that she had believed she would be accompanying a young lady of means around London in the hope of finding a husband, Mrs. Avis seemed to take the news that things were not as she had been told rather well. She had been able to reassure Sarah that carriage wheels sometimes do break or become damaged and that all this was entirely normal. She had been proven right, of course, for they had now reached London safely, and now Sarah found herself looking up at one of the grandest houses she had ever seen.

“Is this truly my home?” she whispered, as a footman helped her down from the carriage as though she were some kind of titled lady. “I can hardly believe it.”

The house had its own graveled drive with what appeared to be a small garden to one side.

“The gardens lead around the back, Miss Weston,” the footman said, as though seeing her questioning gaze. “There is a small stable nearby for the horses and carriage.”

“My goodness,” Sarah whispered, hardly able to accept that this had been left to her by whomever her benefactor was. “This is extraordinary.”

Mrs. Avis smiled at her, as she came to stand next to her. “Shall we go in, Miss Weston?”

Sarah nodded, but paused for a moment. “Sarah, please. I have rarely been referred to as ‘Miss Weston’ by those I live with, and I should like to consider us friends.”

Mrs. Avis looked surprised but nodded, gesturing for Sarah to go on in ahead of her. Taking a deep breath, Sarah walked inside, seeing the butler holding the door open for her.

It was all so bewildering that Sarah did not quite know how to take it all in. The staff were well mannered and polite, just as she would have expected, but there appeared to be such a great number of them that Sarah was not quite sure what to do. Mr. Stanton had never employed a butler before, nor any footmen, so to have so many servants waiting on her was an altogether new experience. The butler introduced her to them all, one at a time, leaving Sarah feeling almost breathless with her sudden change in circumstances.

“Should you like a tour of the house, Miss Weston?” the butler asked, a tall, wiry man with a kind face. “It is large but beautifully airy with a well-stocked library and even a small ballroom.”

“A ballroom?” Sarah repeated, astonished. “Good gracious.”

“I will, of course, have your things taken to your room at once,” the butler continued, gesturing to a few footmen. “And I thought it best to keep country hours as regards the dinner hour.”

Sarah realized that he was looking at her with a somewhat inquiring expression on his face, clearly waiting for her to speak.

“Yes, of course,” she stammered, still very much unused to having her own household to run. “Thank you.”

“There are also the menus for this week that the housekeeper would like to go over with you, but that is not of any particular urgency,” the butler continued, his expression giving very little away. “Should lamb do for this evening?”

Swallowing hard, Sarah nodded and tried to smile, suddenly feeling quite out of place in her own home.

“Wonderful,” the butler murmured, walking a few steps and opening one arm towards the rest of the house. “Should you like to start with the drawing room?”

Nodding, Sarah grasped Mrs. Avis’s arm firmly, looping it through her own. She had suddenly felt very alone and did not altogether like that feeling nor the feeling that she required Mrs. Avis’s company so that she would not feel so overwhelmed.

“Courage, Miss Weston,” Mrs. Avis murmured, clearly aware of Sarah’s astonishment. “You will become used to all this very soon, I am sure. Just do not give your staff any indication that you are feeling in such a way, else they might take advantage of that in some way.”

Sarah, not knowing precisely what Mrs. Avis meant, simply nodded and followed the butler into the drawing room, lifting her chin just a little. This was her new life, the very first piece of the puzzle slotting into place. Whoever had sent her away had a great deal of wealth and was clearly part of the gentry. Did this mean that she was, perhaps, titled? Did she have a standing she was unaware of? Or was it that she was just meant to live comfortably for the rest of her days in the hope that she would never question her parentage?

“This is a beautiful house,” Mrs. Avis murmured, pulling Sarah from her thoughts. “You are very blessed, Sarah, to be able to call this place your own.”

Sarah looked around the room, taking it all in and finding her heart lifting with a tug of happiness. “Yes,” she murmured quietly. “Yes, I believe I am.”