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charge.
      Wasting no time on formalities, Sir Garfield entered the foyer, nodding curtly to the maid, asking gruffly, "Where is the girl?"
      "Above stairs, sir. Me name's Letty, sir," she offered with a deferential curtsy. "I've been with the household since Charlotte were a babe."
      "I don't require your complete history," he answered irritably. "Take me to her."
      A heated flush brightened Letty's cheeks. "Indeed, sir. I'll take ye directly."
      "And the bags? Are her belongings packed? I have little time to waste."
      "Yes, sir. We was told to expect ye and have been ready this past hour or more."
      "Simmons, see to the baggage!" Sir Garfield commanded the footman.
      Nervously fidgeting in the salon, Charlotte rose hastily at the
    sound of the heavy footsteps signaling her uncle's approach. Letty's curt nod from the doorway reminded Charlotte to curtsey, lest she forget decorum.
      "Uncle," Charlotte said in tentative greeting.
      He inspected her with a long, critical sweep. "How old are ye, gel?" he demanded.
      "Just thirteen, Uncle."
      "Small for your age. You don't look near so robust as your cousins. Not sickly, are ye?"
      "N-n-o, Uncle."
      Letty interjected hastily, "Nay, sir. The child's in the best of health."
      "Good. Ye have quite the look of your mother about ye but not half the looks of my Trixie," he proudly asserted. "A rare beauty, that girl."
      For want of a reply, Charlotte nodded.
      "A timid thing, aren't you?" he remarked.
      Always described as a spirited child, Charlotte drew breath to differ, but Letty directed a quelling look. Mindful to make a good impression, Charlotte maintained her silence.
      The cursory introductions completed, Sir Garfield was wont to be on his way. "You know why I've come?" he asked rhetorically.
      "Indeed, sir. I am most grateful for your exceeding kindness and generosity."
      He nodded with a satisfied grunt, and the party set out for Yorkshire.
      For Charlotte, the journey was scarce more than a blur, hours on end bouncing and jostling in the closed carriage, her uncle snoring and sputtering and otherwise ignoring her. At least he had allowed Letty to travel within the coach rather than outside on the driver's seat. The maid's presence fortified Charlotte.
      After three interminable days, the coach halted at the gate of Heathstead Hall. Pulling back the curtain, Charlotte gained her first view of the long gravel drive that meandered up a lush green landscaped hill to an imposing brick, Georgian manor house. The carriage struggled up the steep drive until the door opened and the steps lowered for their descent.
      "Heathstead Hall. Your new home," her uncle stated proudly.
      Wide-eyed and speechless, Charlotte was thankful for Letty's reassuring hand squeeze before she alighted the carriage. Mechanically going through the motions, she would later have only vague first impressions of her new family.
      Her Aunt Felicia, a plump and powdered woman, near smothered Charlotte with a cloyingly effusive welcome. "Why, Sir Garfield, what a little darling our Charlotte is! Welcome, my dearest, into the bosom of your new family. I am Lady Felicia, but we shan't stand on ceremony. You must call me Aunt. Now come and meet your cousins. They've been overcome with rapture in anticipation of your arrival, my dear." She looked to her children and propelled a fresh-faced lad, akin to Charlotte in age and stature, toward her. "Here is Charles, but where is Beatrix?"
      She frowned that her welcome party was incomplete. Beatrix was nowhere in sight.
      "She was here only a moment ago, Mama," Charles answered.
      "'Tis no matter, my dear," Sir Garfield replied. "Charlotte will meet Beatrix in due time. For now, let us just see the gel properly settled."
      "Indeed, Sir Garfield. The rooms are all prepared."
      "I leave all in your capable hands," he replied absently. "I am off to inspect the broodmares." Having