Lady Florence Huntingdon, daughter of the well-known and more importantly, well-respected Earl and Countess Huntingdon is stepping into the 1813 marriage market, in the hopes of finding her match.
Frederick, Duke of Windsor, has just arrived in Lon...
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Lady Whistledown's SOCIETY PAPERS
In a town filled with ambitious mamas and fortune-hunting gentlemen, marrying above one's station is an art form, indeed. But Miss Daphne Bridgerton's advance from future Duchess to possible Princess is an achievement that even this jaded author must applaud.
Though this author cannot dismiss the Duke of Hastings quite so soon. He may have let the diamond slip through his fingers for now, but I shall wager he is not a man to ever hide from a fight.
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"Come on then... I simply must show you my needlework," Philippa says, grabbing my arm and pulling me up the stairs toward the drawing room.
"Please, as if it has gotten any better since she last saw it," Prudence grumbled, racing after us.
As we walked closer to the doors of the drawing room, Lady Featherington's voice got louder, her words, however, continued to stay rather muffled. Prudence and Philippa turn into the room first, before being shoved backward by Marina who rushed out of the room with a look of contempt all over her face.
"She pushed me!" Philippa said, scoffing.
"No, she pushed me," Prudence countered, hitting her sister on the arm.
"Hush, both of you!" Lady Featherington exclaimed, "My nerves!"
I pause, internally debating on whether or not to go into the room before eventually stepping in and curtsying towards Lord Featherington.
"Lord Featherington... Lady Featherinton..." I greet, "it is always a pleasure to be invited to your... lovely home."
Lord Featherington hummed at my presence, ruffling his newspaper as he continued to read.
From beside the couch, Lady Featherinton offered me a strained smile before turning towards her husband, lowering her voice, and stepping closer to him "Kindly remind me, my Lord, why we cannot simply send Miss Thompson back to her father in the country?"
"The matter is not for discussion," Lord Featherington says simply, looking towards his wife.
"A gentleman caller." A footman announced, stepping into the room and bowing his head slightly towards Lord Featherington. "Mr. Albion Finch."
