A Season for Honour

Prologue

Autumn 1806

'Happy Birthday, Octavia,' Katie said excitedly, 'do you like your present?'

'I adore it, Katie,' Octavia said as she gave her friend a hug, 'it is beautiful, and it is the loveliest gift I have ever received. Please help me put it on,' she said, taking the small oval-shaped gold locket out of its simple box and handing it to her friend.

It was Octavia Stretton's fifteenth birthday, and she had spent weeks looking forward to the celebrations. In fact, if the truth were known, she had been counting down the days until she could celebrate her birthday in style, in the senior common-room at the Hillcroft Seminary for Young Ladies, with all her classmates.

For most of the year, Hillcroft was a quiet and reserved place, filled with well-behaved young ladies between the ages of eight and eighteen. Miss Howell, the somewhat austere headmistress and owner of the school, had two guiding principles; order and discipline. And the overall ethos of the school reflected its leader's strict moral code. When she had founded the school, she had one objective in mind; to transform little girls, with all their youthful exuberances, into fashionable and sedate young ladies. Ladies, who in time, would take their place in society as obedient wives and mothers. She believed a girl's education must reflect their future position in society. Of course, her pupils must be able to read and write and have the fundamental mathematical skills necessary to run a household. But, in her opinion, fashionable ladies required only a rudimentary academic education. She had organised the curriculum with those principles dominating her choice of subjects taught at the school.

Even though the formidable Miss Howell was a strict disciplinarian, she did not want to be known amongst her charges as a tyrant. She knew, from her vast experience as a headmistress, that every now and again the girls in her charge needed an opportunity to enjoy themselves and occasionally indulge their high spirits. Therefore, she allowed them to have a small party on their birthday. On these special occasions, the girls could eat vast quantities of cake without censure and play their choice of parlour games, even if they became a little rowdy. The girls always looked forward to these treats for weeks in advance, as they were often the highlight of a very dull term. Today, it was Octavia's turn to act as the hostess for her own party, and she was looking forward to treating her friends.

Katie, Octavia's best friend and confidant, fastened the locket around her friend's neck. 'Let me see,' Katie said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. 'It is lovely. I knew it would suit you.'

Octavia touched the locket with her fingers and looked at her. 'Katie,' she said as a few tears sprung into the corner of her eyes, 'it is lovely, thank you.'

The door of the common-room opened and a maid, slowly walked into the room, carrying a large cake. As soon as the maid had placed it carefully in front of Octavia, all the senior girls rushed over to her and crowded around the table.

'Cut the cake,' Flora, another of Octavia's friends, said impatiently, 'and make sure that the slices are enormous. I am famished.'

Octavia took the knife and looked at her classmate. 'Flora Jenkins,' she said with mock hauteur, 'you will just have to be patient like everyone else.'

As Octavia was slicing the cake and handing out the large, generous portions to her classmates, the door to the common-room opened. The excited chatter that had almost been deafening stopped abruptly when Miss Howell entered. 'Octavia, my dear,' she said seriously, 'forgive my intrusion, but you must come to my office immediately.'

'Oh!' Octavia said, a lump developing in the pit of her stomach. The excitement of the day had suddenly vanished, leaving her feeling empty and apprehensive. 'Katie, can you take over and give everyone a slice of cake.'