“It seems you have a letter, sister dear.”

The voice from outside her bedchamber door was one filled with scorn as well as tinged with delight, which meant that it had to be the viscountess. Sophia closed her eyes for a moment, frustration rifling through her as she thought about what to say in response. She did not want to open the door to take the letter from her sister-in-law, knowing that the viscountess might simply push her way into the room whilst practically crowing with delight over the fact that Sophia had, most likely, found herself a position.

“If you just set it down, I will come to fetch it in a short while,” she replied, not moving from her seat. “I am currently occupied.”

There was a short silence from outside the door. Sophia held her breath whilst she waited for the viscountess to make her decision, knowing that more than anything, she wanted to barge into Sophia’s private space. The place she had made all of her own these last few weeks.

“I really think you should read it just as soon as possible,” came the reply. “Do you not want to find out who has written back to you?”

The truth was that Sophia did want to find out who had written to her so that she might know where her future was to lie, but the last thing she wanted was to face the viscountess in doing so.

“I can open it and read it for you, if you like.”

Quick as a flash, Sophia hurried across the room, unlocked the door and snatched the letter from her sister-in-law’s fingers. She only briefly registered the shock on the lady’s face before slamming the door shut again, turning the key in the lock just as quickly as she could.

A sense of satisfaction rose within her as she heard the viscountess stomp her foot.

“Sophia, that was more than a little rude!” the lady cried, clearly upset now with being denied the prize of entering Sophia’s chamber and finding out what the letter said. “Open this door at once.”

Relieved to know that the only two keys for her door were now hanging by a hook on the wall by the door, Sophia ignored the viscountess’s whining voice entirely and made her way back to the chair by the fire. There was a good fire in the grate today, with some coal in a bucket to one side, just in case she should feel cold. This was not the generosity of her brother, however, but rather the staff that had been with Sophia since long before her brother gained the title. The news that she was to be sent away had made its way below stairs, and the staff had rallied around her, in as much as they could do without being noticed. The second key to her door had mysteriously found its way from the housekeeper’s ring of keys to her own room, just so that there was no way her brother could enter her room without her knowledge. In addition, the maids always brought in extra coal and wood for her fire, so that she would not be cold, and she had more food than she could ever eat sent to her rooms.

It was a gesture that had made her last few days here a little more bearable. She had barely left her rooms, save when a footman came to tell her that the viscount and viscountess had left the house for a time. Those had been the occasions where she had slipped from her room and scoured the house for her belongings. The one thing she had taken that had not been hers to take without asking her brother had been her mother’s locket, the one that held a miniature of her mother and of her father. She did not think that Peter would notice it gone, and so she had taken it from her late father’s room, sadly aware of the thin layer of dust that covered every surface. She had held the locket in her hand and squeezed it tightly, battling tears as she did so. Peter would never notice it gone; he would never care that she had taken it with her, whereas she needed it. It was a simple connection to her parents, to a life she was to leave behind. It was now buried in the bottom of one of her bags, wrapped in a soft linen cloth. It would go with her wherever she went.

Looking about her, Sophia took in the almost bare room, her heart crying out in pain. She now had practically everything she owned in her chamber, packed and ready to go with her the moment she was to leave her brother’s house.

Turning the letter over in her hands, Sophia held her breath and closed her eyes for a moment, building up the courage to see what was held within. The viscountess’s frustrated voice faded away, as she gave up trying to wheedle her way inside Sophia’s rooms, leaving Sophia entirely alone.

Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, Sophia sat down on the floor by the fire, feeling the need to have as much warmth around her as she could. It was as if her blood was cold, sending shivers all through her, as she looked down at the letter in her hand.

The wax seal broke easily enough, and unfolding the letter, Sophia read the few short lines.

This was it. This was to be the turning point in her life. This was to be her new position, her new home, her new social standing. No longer treated as she ought, she would be somewhere in between the master of the house and the servants below stairs. Never allowed to mingle with either class, she would be, for the most part, entirely on her own.

Swallowing hard, Sophia brushed away a single tear that touched her eyelashes, not wanting to give into yet more weeping. She had done more than enough of that already.

Reading the letter again, she sighed to herself, as she saw that the Duke of Harrogate wanted her to move there just as soon as she could, which meant that she could make arrangements to leave and be gone within a day or so, well before her brother’s demand for a month.

And yet, she did not want to go. To leave and step out into a new, unfamiliar world, sent terror to her very bones. To stay here with her vile sister-in-law and her—now unrecognizable—brother was entirely out of the question. In a way though, it seemed to be the better option than to start her life as a governess. It was not a life she had chosen for herself, but was instead, a life forced upon her. She had no idea how to work with children, how to teach them and educate them to a proper degree! What if the child did not like her? What if her lack of experience was much too obvious and she was sent away again? Where would she go? It was not as though her brother would welcome her back with open arms.

Dropping the letter from her fingers, Sophia drew her head down, resting it on her knees as she sat on the floor by the fire. Her breathing came quickly, as she fought the urge to cry, to give in to despair and hopelessness. Her life here was over. She had to face the fact that within a week, she would be the new governess to the Duke of Harrogate’s daughter. She would have to let go of all she had here, all the hopes and expectations she had about her future. Acceptance was not going to come easily, but Sophia was determined to try and find some kind of inner strength that would allow her to go forward without this burden of sadness and pain resting on her shoulders.

Lifting her head, Sophia sniffed and gave herself a slight shake. There were things to be done. She would have to write to the duke and inform him that she intended to leave in two days’ time, expecting to be with him within a week of departure. She had very little idea as to how far away the duke’s home was, nor where she ought to stay to break up the journey, but somehow, she would find a way to get there. There was little hope in her using her brother’s carriage, so Sophia supposed she would have to find a stage to take her to her destination. She had never done that kind of thing before, the very idea filling her with fright, but it would have to be done regardless of how she felt.

Perhaps the maids would be able to help her arrange something. The last thing Sophia wanted was to go to her brother and ask for his help, not after what he had done thus far. The sound of his voice telling her that she had to be gone from his house within the month echoed in her mind, seeming to bounce off the walls as she thought about the kind of man he had turned into. It was as though her brother had died alongside her father, his goodness and warmth gone from him. No, she could not go to him.

“Sophia?”

Jumping, Sophia heard her brother’s angry voice from the other side of the door.

“Sophia, open this door at once! Explain your behavior toward my wife!”

Closing her eyes, Sophia got to her feet and made her way toward the door with very little intention of opening it. “Brother, I am going to do no such thing,” she said calmly. “This is my bedchamber and has been for many years. I will decide who is to come in and who is not.”

There was a short silence before a sudden, heavy thump made her jump in fright.

“You are a spoilt, headstrong girl,” her brother snarled, from behind the door. “Just as well you are to go from this place. I assume you have a position?”

“I do,” Sophia replied calmly. She did not need to tell him where it was nor whom it was with, although she was quite sure the viscountess had taken a good, long look at the seal.

Her brother chuckled darkly. “Good. So, you will be gone very soon. A new life for you, Sophia, one where you will have to learn not to be so dependent on others, one where you will have to let go of your selfishness and pride.”

Closing her eyes, Sophia leaned against the door, the pain of her brother’s words piercing her heart.

“One of the grooms will take you to the village to catch the stage whenever you require it,” her brother continued, thumping the door again so as to make sure she was listening. “The sooner, the better, Sophia. Do you hear me? The sooner, the better.”

“I hear you, Peter,” Sophia managed to say, refusing to allow him to hear any tears in her voice.

Something slid under the door, and Sophia glanced down in surprise to see some notes being shoved underneath.

“These are not for your fripperies, Sophia, but for the stage,” Peter continued. “I just want to make sure you get to your destination without any difficulty. The last thing I need is to come and rescue you from some far away inn because you have no money left.”

Torn between gratefulness and deep agony, Sophia picked up the notes and clutched them to her chest. At least she would not have to scour her room for any remaining pin money in order to pay for the stage.

“Thank you,” she whispered, the words coming unwillingly from her mouth.

He did not say anything more, the silence growing between them. Then, after a moment or two, Sophia heard the sound of his footsteps, as he turned from her door and walked along the hallway, leaving her alone once more.

She did not think she would ever see him again.