Prologue
The genteel chatter of Crownshire’s elite mingled with the clinking of fine china as Helena, Clara, and Madeline sought refuge from the afternoon sun, the early summer air brings forth a welcomed refreshing warmth in the charming confines of Bloomington’s Sweets. Renowned for its delectable array of desserts, this fashionable dessert shop was a favorite amongst the aristocracy, a place where one could indulge in both sweet treats and sweet conversations. They settled at a marble-topped table near the ornate window, where the afternoon light spilled over dishes of exquisitely crafted iced desserts.
Helena, radiant and newly engaged, could scarcely keep her eyes off the delicate ring that now adorned her finger. Clara, noticing her friend’s distracted gaze, smiled warmly. “Helena, it truly suits you. May your engagement be as sweet and delightful as this raspberry sorbet,” she toasted, raising her spoon.
“Thank you, Clara! I still can’t believe it myself. To think I’d be the first to wed,” Helena replied, her voice tinged with excitement and a hint of mischief.
At that moment, Madeline, carefully unfolding a perfumed letter, interjected with a grin, “Speaking of weddings, I’ve just heard from Rosette. She’s coming back to Eldoria and hopes to join us before the season ends or the very least your wedding!”
“That’s splendid!” Clara exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Rosette returning is the cherry on top of this delightful gathering! Remember how she wagered that you, Helena, would be the first of us to marry when we were at Lady Westerly’s? She’ll be thrilled to see her prediction come true.”
Their laughter was briefly interrupted as Madeline’s gaze darkened upon spotting a familiar figure. Clara and Helena followed her gaze to see Lord Ashwood, the notorious rake, was approaching their table, nonchalantly walking alongside Madeline’s elderly cousin, the new Lord Foster. Clara’s mood soured instantly. “Of all the places, why must he parade his disgraceful charm here, and with your cousin, Maddie?”
Madeline sighed, her annoyance clear. “Let’s not let him spoil our day. He’s just... unavoidable sometimes.”
“He’s rather ancient to be finding a wife this season is he not?” Helena asked.
“And he had the audacity to ask for my dance card a couple of nights ago” Clara shivered. “If I did not give importance to you I had waved my fan at him - instead I had to endure tedious hours of conversation. You are lucky he did not come on to you Helena”.
“I suppose a ring does around your finger does keep other unwanted suitors at bay” Helena turned her attention back to her dessert, her spoon slicing through the frosty treat with a satisfying crunch.
“Alas! I have to mind my manners with him as he is my sole male guardian” Helena savored the cool sweetness of her dessert and a twinge of guilt tugged at her heart. Here she was, basking in the glow of her engagement, while her dearest friends faced trials of their own. She fingered Rosette’s letter thoughtfully, her mind drifting to the upcoming adventures and the life she was about to embrace as Marquess of Somerton.
