Somewhere Only We Know [B. BRIDGERTON]

Prologue

Lady Margaret Norcross, or Lady Meg, as society had often referred to her as, was everything a lady should and should not be. She lived her life on her own terms, and she had the means to do so. It had been almost two years since her father passed, leaving her quite a fortune, and no need to rely on anyone but herself.

Her mother, Eleanor, who had died when Meg was only ten, was the only child from a wealthy, but untitled family, one that had been elevated by her Earl of Swynford. As the only child, she had been granted all of their money, as well as their London house.

Her father, Arthur Norcross, Earl of Swynford, to whom Meg had been exceptionally close to, and was devastated by his death, was gifted another house in London, as well as a house in Bath, and a great sum of money having 15,000 pounds a year, as well as her pick of much of the furniture in the Swynford's country home, Berrington Park, before it was to be inhabited by her cousin, the son of her father's late brother, Peter, now the 7th Earl of Swynford.

Peter had not been particularly pleased by this arrangement, and had immediately proposed marriage to Meg. Meg had tried not to laugh at the cousin whom she had seen twice a year, at most, as she told him were to wed, it would not be to him.

And with that, she had thanked him for the offer, as sincerely as she could muster, and left Berrington Park, for Bath, shutting herself away for two years while she mourned the loss of her dear papa.

Now, she was twenty, almost too old to make her debut in society, but the death of her father had quickly put a pause on those plans. It was something that she had been eager for at the time, but it didn't seem appropriate to continue on until she had finished mourning for her father.

She couldn't help but smile brightly as the carriage rode into London, her hand stroking the head and back of her beloved dog, Jip, who sat calmly in her lap. Oh, how she had missed it. Her childhood had been split between time in London and time in the country. She much preferred the city, all the hustle and bustle. In the country, it got far too quiet for her liking.

Meg couldn't wipe the smile off of her face as the carriage stopped in front of her aunt's house, Swynford House in Grosvenor's Square. She wanted to stay in one of her houses that her parents had left her, but her aunt, Lady Maria Norcross, the mother of Peter, and the widow Meg's uncle George, had said that it would be inappropriate for her to be living alone while she was out. It had taken quite some persuasion, but after being assured that Peter would not be present, Meg finally relented.

When the door to the carriage was opened, Meg took the footman offered her, stepping out with Jip safely in her arms. She had been to London during the season, but far too young to come out. However, when she stayed in London, it had always been at Swynford house, and now it was occupied by her aunt, ever since her son had inherited the title. Peter also spent quite a bit of time in London, however, where he stayed was a mystery to both Meg and Maria. It had only been a little more than two years since Meg was last at the home, but it seemed like a lifetime. As much as she adored Berrington Park, she would always prefer the London house. It was always bustling inside and out, and there was rarely a moment when she was bored. So much unlike the quiet loneliness she felt in the country.

"Lady Maria wasn't expecting you yet, my lady," a footman explained as she was led into the foyer. "Please, wait a moment. I shall get her for you."

Meg gave the footman a polite smile and as he walked off she turned to get a good look at the house. It was mostly unchanged from when she had last been there. Aside from a few paintings that were gone, ones that Meg loved too much to part with that were now in Bath, the walls were still a very pale shade of blue, the gilded chairs with peach cushions that were pushed off to the sides. There were various ornate vases with fresh flowers in them. When she had last been here, the flowers were pink peonies, her mother's favorite. Now that they were filled with red roses. Lovely, yes, but not the ones that Meg and her mother had adored so much.

"Meg!" Lady Maria said excitedly as she went to embrace Meg. "I was not expecting you until this evening. I've a visitor."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Aunt George," said Meg, using her affectionate name for her aunt. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I shall make myself scarce. But I was ready sooner than I thought, and I couldn't keep still."

"It's good to know that you haven't changed," said Maria. "And please, do not feel the need to. Unless you'd like to rest after your journey."

"Rest?" Meg laughed. "I have spent the last two years in mourning, and another two years alone in a carriage. Or at least it felt like it. Of course, Jip here, is a wonderful travelling companion, but I feel starved for some human interaction that is not so somber."

Maria simply laughed lightly and rolled her eyes, lightly grabbing Meg by her arm and leading her into the parlor. Meg was pleased to be greeted by a familiar face. She had suspected such, as she doubted her aunt would drag her into a social call with a stranger. And the caller was a welcome face to Meg, one she hadn't seen in quite some time.

"Dear Lady Danbury!" Meg exclaimed as she walked into the parlor, bobbing into a quick curtsy.

"Lady Meg," said Lady Danbury, giving Meg a small smile. "Look at you, all grown up."

"Grown up seems a funny way to say it," said Meg. "The last time I was in London, I was eighteen. I cannot imagine that I have grown up in such a short time."

Truth be told, that was a statement Meg had heard several times in the last few months as she come out of mourning, and began preparing herself for the upcoming season. But she had matured, still opinionated and carefree, but certainly more mature and more introspective, less hot-headed and dramatic.

"I was just telling Lady Danbury about your debut," said Maria. "We think you will be a star, perhaps even the season's diamond."

"Doesn't every mama say that their daughter?" Meg said, earning a little chuckle out of Lady Danbury. "Or aunts of their nieces?"

"Are you seeking to be married by the end of the season?" Lady Danbury asked.

"Much like everything else in my life, I seek nothing this season, but my own pleasure," said Meg, with a playful smirk. "If that includes a husband, then very well. If not, well, then it doesn't."

"A diamond in the rough, perhaps," said Lady Danbury. "But, a diamond nonetheless."