The sooner the better—best to get the ugly affair over with as soon as possible. What could she have been thinking, to answer the advertisement like she had? Desperation could make fools of the hardiest souls, as could deception. Oh, but she would pay dearly for this deception! The hair shirt stinging her flesh would seem mild punishment compared to what would certainly follow this "breach of decency and trust," as her father, the Vicar Ashton, would term it. Reaching into her skirt pocket, she withdrew the wrinkled and smudged article she had torn from the London Times a full six weeks earlier. Position offered. Desire live-in companion. Tutor. Nursemaid. Yorkshire district. Wage compensatory with experience. Prefer healthy, strong male. Reply to . . . Her fingers closing around the paper, Maria moved to the window and noted the miserable weather without. From here she could see the steep roof of her home rising through the mist at the far end of the village, its slate roof a shocking opulence compared to the humble thatched cottages surrounding the Vicar Ashton's well- appointed house—due completely to the exorbitant tithes demanded of the church followers.
