Lord Percy Hunterdon despaired: he had inherited a Gothic horror of an estate along with a pair of fifteen-year-old brats to marry off. It was no secret to him that finding husbands for these two vile young ladies would require the utmost expertise: the care of a governess of superior caliber. When Jean Morrison spied Lord Hunterdon's advertisement, dreams of an unmarried viscount and a magnificent castle danced in her head. She imagined him as Byronic and brooding, pacing the battlements with a black cloak wrapped around his manly shoulders. And naturally, he would fall madly in love with her. Her dreams immediately burst apart at the seams when she saw the dank, dirty Trelawney Castle and encountered for the first time the evil dispositions of her new charges. Still, despite all of this, the golden hair and dancing eyes of her employer conjured up fantasies that were most unseemly for a governess of distinction.