A Woman of Honour

Chapter 1

August 1819

Belmont Hall, Devon

'Wakefield, where are you?' The imperious voice of Lady Helford boomed across the bedchamber and penetrated the wall of the adjoining dressing-room.

Helen knew only too well by the familiar querulous tone in her employer's voice that there would be no pleasing her.

'Wakefield!' Lady Helford commanded. 'Come here immediately.'

Ever since she had returned from Spain, after the death of her husband, Harry, Helen had been working for Lady Helford. That had been six years ago, and there seemed to be no end to the purgatory she lived in every day. Helen had no family of her own, and when she had returned to England, after Harry's death, she had thrown herself onto the mercy of her late husband's father, Lord Brentford.

Lord Brentford had never approved of her as a daughter-in-law. She was only the daughter of a rector, and he considered her far too below his own social standing and certainly not worthy to bear the Wakefield name. When she had turned up at the door of Hidcote Manner in 1813, after the death of her husband, he had refused to provide for her. Instead, he had insisted that she should become the companion to his aunt, Lady Helford. The humiliation that her father-in-law had put her through nearly had been too much to bear. Helen would have refused to obey, if it had not been for her son, Georgie.

Georgie had now been living with his grandfather for the past nine years, and even though she was the mother of the child, she had no say in his upbringing. Her husband, Harry, had signed documents without her knowledge, making Lord Brentford, Georgie's sole guardian. If she wanted to see her son, she would have to submit to Lord Brentford's orders. In return for satisfactory service, as Lady Helford's companion, she would be allowed to see her son once a year on his birthday. However, if Lady Helford, for any reason, was displeased with her, or if she left her employ, she would forgo her rights to see her son.

Lady Helford was not an easy woman to please. She was a petty, selfish, cantankerous old woman, and she did not like Helen being forced upon her by her nephew. During the early years of her employment, Helen had occasionally reacted to Lady Helford's unreasonable demands. However, the negative reports, made by the spiteful Lady Helford, had meant that Helen had not seen her son for several years. Initially, Helen had railed against the decision, complaining bitterly to both Lady Helford and Lord Brentford. However, Helen soon learnt that her protestations only hampered her chances of seeing her son.

Eventually, Helen concluded that if she wanted to see her son again, she would have to dowse her rebellious spirit and do the best job she could possibly do under the circumstances. Putting to death every emotion, except for the love of her son, she had somehow managed to live within the oppressive regime set by Lady Helford. It had not been easy. At first, her emotions, still raw from the death of Harry and her unhappy, tumultuous marriage, had been difficult to quell. However, as the years rolled by and her soul had become dull and lifeless, it had become easier to endure. The only time she ever let her true self show was in the presence of her son.

Helen took a deep breath. It was time to break from her reverie and face Lady Helford's ire.

'There you are,' Lady Helford said petulantly as Helen joined her in the bedchamber. 'I must say, I think this arrangement will work out very well. I wasn't at all certain about it when Arabella proposed it, but now I've had time to think about it, I see that it will do very well for you.'

Helen sighed. They had arrived at Belmont Hall, after a long, arduous journey, just that afternoon. At the best of times, travelling with Lady Helford was a trial. However, during this particular trip, from London to Devon, it had been worse than usual. It had taken nearly a week to travel across the breadth of England to the South West of the country. The roads were poorly maintained and full of potholes, and Lady Helford's ancient carriage was not well-sprung. Not only had Helen been jolted from side to side the whole journey, she had had to withstand Lady Helford's constant whining. Every hostelry they had visited along the way had not been to her liking, and it always seemed to be Helen's fault if her ladyship's impossibly high standards were not maintained.