Death at Scarlet Leaf.

Chapter 1

The train chuntered across the bleak landscape, and I stared out of the window, twisting the handle of my suitcase nervously. I hoped that Lord and Lady Morris weren't the sort of people to stand on ceremony. I had been at Paddington station for hours waiting for this train, it was pouring with rain and I was soaked through. The cold wind that whistled through the window shutter in my carriage wasn't helping either. Again, I tried to close it, but to my annoyance, it still flapped open.

At long last, the train stopped at the station I had been waiting for. Picking up my suitcase and attempting to smoothen down my hat, I stepped out onto the platform and looked around. It was still drizzling slightly, but that's what it's like all the time in the country, I suppose.

"Ere, are you Miss Alianna Winter?" a rough, coarse voice asked. I turned as the train pulled out of the station, and was confronted with a short, bandy-legged old man. He held out his hand for my suitcase, and I gave it to him. Truth be told, I was a little concerned about his appearance.

"The lady told us you'd be comin' on that train" the man continued. "All us at the house've been lookin' forward to meetin' young Kitten's new governess."

"Kitten?" I enquired politely. "I thought the child's name was Clive."

"Aye" the old man grunted, as he heaved my suitcase into the cart that was standing at the end of the platform. "But all us at the house call 'im Kitten, 'cos he's just like one, Miss Winter."

I nodded as he helped me into the cart. I wondered whether I should call the child Kitten as well. Was that proper conduct for a governess?

"And what is your job at Scarlet Leaf, sir?" I asked the old man politely, as the cart rattled off down the lane. I really wasn't interested, I was just making polite conversation.

"Me? Name's Albert Jenkins, head gardener and cart driver" the old man replied gruffly, squinting up at the sky. "Hold onto yer hat, Miss Winter, we's goin' to have to pick up the speed a bit, before the 'eavens open on us" he added, before cracking the whip of the cart, and the horse galloped off at a frightfully dangerous pace along the lane. I had actually just been about to ask what he meant by the heavens opening, but the thunder that rumbled in the distance answered my question for me. Holding the handle of my suitcase with one hand and with the other clamped down firmly on my hat, I shut my eyes as the cart only seemed to get faster. We rattled around corner after corner, and bounced along lane after lane, until I felt the cart stop and heard Jenkins's rough voice again.

"Yer can open yer eyes now, Miss Winter, we're at the house now."

I opened one eye and looked around, before opening the other and sitting up. I had nearly fallen off my seat during the ride, and as Jenkins helped me down from the cart the front door of the house opened, and a lady of about thirty with auburn hair, green eyes and porcelain features stood in the light of the hall inside. She looked as if, in her younger days, she had been a great beauty, and, although she was getting on a little in years, she looked poised, elegant, steadfast, and, of course, still very pretty.

"You must be Miss Winter, I presume?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am" I replied nervously, before turning to retrieve my suitcase. The cart rattled off again, and I was left standing in the drive.

"Well, come in quickly, girl, you must be freezing!" the lady ordered, and she ushered me in just as the rain began outside.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Winter. Kitt...Clive has been very much looking forward to seeing you. My name is Lady Morris." I noted the fact that she nearly called her son Kitten as well. Deciding to wait until an introduction before I began to use the child's nickname, I nodded politely as Lady Morris smiled at me kindly, and the butler came out into the hall. He was an elderly chap, straight backed, stone faced, the model English butler, I thought.