"There are two sides to every coin, the head and the tail. You, sir, are certainly the latter."
Madelyn Basset, the Duke of Hastings's little sister, has arrived in London Town in time for her big societal debut. As every other young lady, she hopes...
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"As we all know, there is nothing this author loves more than a scandal. And tonight's soiree promises more than its fair share, courtesy of the recently widowed Lady Trowbridge.
Some may call her celebrations too provocative, and I would caution any young lady from getting caught up in the sensual nature of her fêtes. For one scandalous move between an unwed couple, a wayward touch, or heaven forbid, a kiss, would banish any young lady from society in a trail of ruin."
For anyone who didn't read the gossip pamphlets, they wouldn't have known Lady Trowbridge was in mourning. If anything they'd think her ball a celebration in her baby boy's honour. Well, if a baby boy liked trapeze, gymnasts and soprano.
And for the most part, Madelyn did not see why she still had to attend these silly soirées. Everyone knew she and Malcolm were courting so she didn't get why she had to now flaunt it in their faces.
Well, she couldn't complain too much. She got to see her friends: Daphne, Penelope, Marina. And Anthony.
If she could call him a friend. She supposed he couldn't possibly be anything more now seeing as she was with another man. And she wasn't going to do anything more than let him be that.
Right?
She couldn't do that to Malcolm. She daren't think of it.
"Mind if I cut in?"
She was snapped out of her daze back into reality to find the young lord she was dancing with (Finch, was it?) come to halt in their waltz as Anthony walked up to them. He looked as dashing as ever in his blue doublet and white pants, smiling so courteously and handsomely at them she felt her stomach turn.
She cursed herself.
"Miss Basset." With a final sneeze, Lord Finch bowed and released her hand into Lord Bridgerton's.
