Chapter 1

Mrs Amelia Chislett, headmistress of the Chislett Academy for Young Ladies was a small, plump woman, making up in sternness what she lacked in height. She was red faced - partiality to mince pies tends to do that to one's complexion - and like to squeeze herself into dresses several sizes too small, refusing to acknowledge that the issue was growing along with her waistline. She was always immaculate, considering herself a trooper for high standards of dress, promoting perfection amongst her girls, molding them into Ladies of Breeding and Sophistication to be presented to society and married off, as well they should be. Another part of Mrs Chislett's character that must be noted was her adherence to rules, and the total need for everything to be just so.

It was because of this need that she found herself in the entrance hall on a Sunday midday, waiting for the last dregs of girls to trickle through the doors, returning from their mandatory walk after Church, as she always did, to reprimand them for their tardiness. She was also acting as a watchdog, for the brand new foyer carpet - installed only yesterday, spotlessly clean. Her forehead became a myriad of wrinkles as she frowned, observing the last group and, perhaps more importantly, the dirt from their sensible boots that was becoming one with the carpet. Her nose twitched.

"Girls."

The effect was instant. There was a rustling of skirts, hissed 'be quiets!' and jabbing elbows to silence the less observant. They curtseyed.

"Since you had no issue with putting mud into the carpet, I shall assume you will have no issue with removing it." She said crisply. "Be back here at five thirty on the morrow to clean it. See Mr Bagshaw for the equipment."

There was a general murmur of reluctant assent, and Mrs Chislett spun on her heel to leave, nearly forgetting to ask the question that she had asked all the girls that had come through the doors. She hesitated in remembrance.

"Is Elizabeth Montgomery amongst you?"

There was shuffling as a girl of average height and dark hair the colour of rusted copper came to the front and curtseyed.

"Yes, Madam?" Her voice was smooth and confident. Mrs Chislett's narrowed eyes swept her up and down before pursing her lips.

"My office please." She marched off down the hall; her shoes making the familiar tap-tap that served to miscreant girls as an early warning system of her presence. The girl gave her friends a confused look before hurrying after Mrs Chislett.

Elizabeth Rose Guinevere Montgomery was very familiar with the school, but since her interview to be accepted into the establishment six years ago, she had never had any need to go down the series of corridors that led to the headmistress's private study. The room was cool, light and sparsely furnished . A desk took up most of the space, its surface home to piles of neatly arranged paperwork and quill pens. A pair of gold rimmed half-moon spectacles lay on a book, which Elizabeth instantly recognised as a textbook on dining, having spent many a dull lesson trying to imprint its contents into her brain. Her chair was small and tucked under the desk, identical to the two opposite, both of which were covered in a rather ugly floral print, matching the tasteless wallpaper.

"Miss Montgomery, please sit," began Mrs Chislett primly, going to the desk and picking up a yellowed piece of paper. She squinted at it for a moment, before picking up the spectacles and perching them precariously on the end of her nose. She cut quite a comical figure, and Elizabeth would have laughed had it been any other person, in any other moment.

There was silence for a few minutes, during which Elizabeth fiddled nervously with the green ribbon around her neck and glanced around awkwardly before Mrs Chislett finally spoke.

"You are fifteen years of age, correct?"

Elizabeth looked up. "Yes, madam. I become sixteen in a few weeks."

"Six years you have been with us. Very impressive."

"Thank you, Madam." Elizabeth began to get worried.

"I will not drag this out, Miss Montgomery. You are clearly a good girl, and both your teachers and friends speak highly of you. There were concerns that with your parents' ... incident, you would... well - you've been managing nicely. I have had a letter, and regret to inform you that you will not be staying with us here at the Academy in the foreseeable future. There is a carriage outside awaiting you once you have packed your bags and made sure all your affairs are in order."

She waved her hand in the direction of the door before returning to her paperwork, as if the meeting had never occurred. Elizabeth stood.

"Did I do something wrong? Am I being expelled?"

"No. Nothing like that. Here, take the letter." Elizabeth took it, scarcely knowing what to think. "Now, I really must be getting on. It's been a pleasure, Miss Montgomery."

She left, shutting the door behind her with a click.

All at once her composure broke, and the thoughts began to spin hectically around her mind.

She couldn't possibly leave! This was her home, and had been ever since her parents sent her away so that they could live the lives of socialites - lives that certainly didn't include her. They had died a year ago, and she had been told - no, assured that they would continue providing for her until a relative was found, using the funds that her parents had set aside in their will. They must've found a relative, and she would have to live with them for the rest of her life, away from London.

Elizabeth's breath came in short little gasps as she began to truly process the whirlwind five minutes that had turned her life on its head. She would have to leave her friends, her only real home, to live with some stranger who she had never had any contact with, despite their apparent relation. Her blinking eyes stared at the letter in her shaking fist as it blurred with the tears that threatened to inundate her vision. Choking down sobs, Elizabeth began to run down the corridors of the only place in her life that had ever seemed permanent. More than once she received an angry look or reprimand from a teacher, or a stare from a group of girls, but Elizabeth was blind to all this, tearing through the door to her dormitory. She burst in and flung the straw bonnet trimmed with the Chislett Academy's signature emerald ribbon down on the floor, slamming the door with as much venom as she could muster. Instantly the chatter of the seven girls in there halted and their shocked faces all whipped round in her direction. Elizabeth looked wildly around at them all then sank to the ground, hiding her face with her hands as her body shook with silent sobs. There was an astonished silence, then everyone rushed to her side, pulling her into a collective embrace, smoothing her hair and murmuring comforting, meaningless words over and over. Marie, Elizabeth's very best friend, noticed the scrunched up ball of paper clenched in her fingers first and gently prised them loose, smoothing it out as best she could. She looked at Elizabeth worriedly, before reading.

"To whomever it may concern," she began. "I am writing with regards to Elizabeth Rose Guinevere Montgomery, whom I believe has been a pupil at your establishment for these six years past. Mr Wentlock, my brother's lawyer, wrote to me a good while after my brother and his wife's deaths, having taken time to find me, explaining that they had a single child, who had no relatives, myself excepting. He went on to assure me that the Chislett Academy would be happy to take responsibility for her, provided the payment for her tuition continued, until her eighteenth birthday whence she would receive her inheritance and be formally presented in society, hopefully obtaining a husband within the first year. I responded immediately, asking him that my existence would be kept an absolute secret so as not to give the girl false hope - my brother made it clear upon our last meeting that he did not want me in his life - familial disagreement, I'm afraid, and I was unsure whether or not I should take her in after my departed brother's many offences towards me - then asked Mr Wentlock to give me time in which to make my decision." Marie paused here, not wishing to say any more. Isolde snatched it from her impatiently and, at Elizabeth's nod of assent, continued.

"It is of this decision I now wish to speak. The girl is to come and reside with me, in my country estate. Rest assured she will be treated well." Isolde's voice became more incredulous. "I am sending a carriage to pick her up two days hence, and await her prompt arrival. Yours faithfully, Alexander Montgomery, Lord of Lyonshire."

The silence was broken by a squeak from Anne.

"The country?"

A shudder of revulsion passed through the group.

"I," began the tactless Eliza, "have a cousin who lives in the countryside. No manners, a simply dreadful taste in fashion and, my word, he insisted upon constantly scratching himself like one of those apes we saw in Kensington Zoo!" She fanned herself dramatically.

Jemima leant in and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.

"I heard that they all dress in sacks. And, what's more, they all are riddled with ... lice."

This was met with gasps of shock, and a couple of the girls fluttered agitatedly about the room. Marie glared at them all.

"Isolde, Anne, Jane, go and pack Lizzie's possessions. Jemima, Eliza?" She made a shooing motion towards the door. "And Clemmie, would you please ask Cook to prepare some food for the journey?" As they shuffled sheepishly out, Marie gently guided her best friend to her feet and started to help her out of uniform and into one of the few dresses Elizabeth possessed outside of schoolwear.

Within no time at all, Elizabeth was in travelling clothes, staring at her home and wondering how blind she'd been to believe it was permanent. The girls at the Academy were the nearest thing that she had had to a family, with her parents being absent from her life even before their deaths, and now even her closest friends would not be a part of her life any more.

She took her bags from Jane and the brown paper bag with some lunch in from Clemmie. They all looked dazed. Looking around, Elizabeth realized just how much these girls all meant to her, and thought of how she had taken them for granted. Clemmie rushed forwards first and enveloped her in a hug.

"Promise you'll write?"

Elizabeth nodded, sniffing and managed a watery smile.

"Every week. And I shall expect one back, mind." She said, attempting a laugh. "If the country is as dreadful as it seems, I shall need plenty of gossip to keep me entertained!" They all laughed, and crowded around in a group hug, holding on to her with a fierce affection, as if they would never let her go.

Elizabeth disentangled herself after a few moments, and Marie took one of her bags from her, saying she'd see her to the door.

Marie was silent as they walked, side by side as they had always done, for the last time. Only when they were in the fresh air did she turn and hug Elizabeth. Their composures both broke simultaneously, and they burst into fresh tears, holding onto each other as tightly as they dared. Marie pulled back and looked hard at Elizabeth, the tears still sliding down her cheeks.

"I want to remember every detail of your face." She sniffed.

Elizabeth smiled - Marie liked to draw and would probably make a portrait to remember her by.

"Do not despair, we will see each other again soon," she reassured, although neither believed it truly."I shall write every week and think of you always. Besides, no man in the world could keep me from visiting you, no matter how far away I am."

They clasped each other tightly again, with a powerful tenderness and an unspoken resolution that this would not be their last farewell.

"Goodbye, Elizabeth Montgomery." Marie said, her brown eyes warm and strong.

"Adieu, Marie." And with that, Elizabeth turned to the carriage and its driver and did not look back.