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Grovenor's Square, 1813.
Dearest reader,
The time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season.
Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless mama.
Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton. A shockingly prolific family, noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters.
Today is a most important day, and for some a terrifying one. For today is the day London's marriage-minded misses are presented to Her Majesty the Queen.
May God have mercy on their souls.
For it is only the Queen's eye that matters today. A glimmer of displeasure and a young lady's value plummets to unthinkable depths.
But as we know, the brighter a lady shines, the faster she may burn.
. . .
"You absolutely sparkled, Sister." Hyacinth Bridgerton gushed as her sister was undressed from her ravishing gown.
Daphne smiled, a light chuckle leaving her lips. "Come, now. I merely simpered and minced in a pretty dress like everyone else."
"Not exactly like everyone else." Francesca corrected, leaning against the chair her second eldest sister occupied, a hand resting on her waist.
Eloise sighed, tearing her eyes from the paper in her hand. "Oh, I shall need to go and visit with Penelope. Her presentation was anything but . . . what was it the queen called you again?"
"Flawless." Daphne grinned, as her lady's maid helped her dress. "Or some such thing. Trust I was astonished Her Majesty offered me, out of two hundred young ladies present, a most gracious remark."
"Yes, it was quite a distinction," Eloise replied, turning her attention back the paper in hand, "and now two hundred young ladies have a common adversary. I wish you luck, Sister."
The smile on Daphne's face faltered.
"Eloise. . ." Francesca chided.
"What? It is true."
"My success on the marriage mart influences all of your prospects." Daphne reminded. "We will all need to find love one day. Indeed, a love as pure as what Mama and Papa once shared, if we are so fortunate. I merely hope I am able to continue such a grand tradition."
Violet Bridgerton burst into the adjoining room. "Your dresses have arrived."
All the Bridgerton girls, bar Eloise, hurried, giggling, to greet her.
