Victoria sat on the sofa, her embroidery in her hand. The needle, however, remained unmoving, lodged in the fabric. She thought back angrily to her meeting last night with her guardian. It was absolutely the last straw. Her life had changed unrecognizably in the last six months. She had been so happy when her parents had been alive. That had all ended when they had both been drowned in a boating accident. Suddenly at the age of 20 she found herself, with no rights, awarded as a ward of court to her father's business partner, Josiah Carlyon-Hughes.
Her guardian was ten years older than her father had been, but seemed to be of another generation altogether. Whereas her parents had brought her up to have views on everything, to be interested in politics, international affairs and social issues, and to understand the working of business, her new guardian seemed to expect her to pretend ignorance and lack of interest in anything outside the domestic world and to defer to the opinions of any male or older female. He had forbidden her from attending meetings of committees for social reform. No newspapers were now allowed in the house. She felt she was slowly going mad.
Her guardian was also pressurizing her in other ways. She had inherited her father's shares in the business. He was pressing her to sell him the shares, at a value far below their real value. A cousin of the Carlyon-Hughes' had been introduced, apparently with a view to marriage. She smiled grimly; the poor young man hadn't known what had hit him, and had left never daring to return. Her guardian took that badly. He had retaliated by forbidding her to receive visitors or to visit friends. The footman, James, had been dismissed, and replaced with servants from his household. Callers at the house were now told that she was not receiving visitors, and the coachman no longer dared to drive her anywhere. Gradually the number of visitors had reduced, and now only rarely did any of her friends bother to call.
Her friendly little maid, Alice, had also been dismissed. She had been replaced by a sour thin lipped woman named Margaret, who, she was sure, was spying on her for her guardian.
She hadn't thought that her life could get any worse – until last night. Her guardian had then visited to inform her that he had "engaged a tutor" for her. She had been almost too dumbfounded to speak. When she recovered she had demanded to know what the tutor could possibly teach her. She could read Latin and Greek, could speak French fluently, and was passable in Italian and German. She was more numerate than most of the men she had met; she certainly had a better understanding of science. Her guardian had refused to discuss the matter, said the tutor would arrive the next day and had left the house with her still fuming. Now she was sat here this morning, waiting for this tutor to arrive.
She picked up the embroidery and made a few stitches, untidy in her temper. Then she heard the doorbell ring, voices in the hallway and the sound of a trunk being brought into the house. Curious as she was to see who her guardian had hired, she obstinately remained bent over her embroidery, not even looking up when the door was opened.