Society's Secret

Prologue:

England, 1794

Candles flickered and reflected the glittering crystals of the chandeliers. A band played, and the lilting tones echoed upwards towards the vaulted ceilings. Guests mingled and chatted while snacking on hors d'eouvres and imbibing on the Willoughbys' excellent vintage, enjoying the night without a care in the world.

Lady Willoughby stood by silently as she watched her husband engage in conversation with several men he knew from the club. She knew that he hated to be interrupted, but the clock continued to tick on, and their daughter Lydia was nowhere in sight. Sensing her presence, Lord Willoughby turned to his wife.

They had been married for nearly thirty-five years. While some might see that as an accomplishment, the Willoughbys were practical people. They viewed and managed their marriage as a business arrangement, and nothing more. Still, after nearly four decades of knowing one another, the couple had learned to communicate their thoughts and concerns silently, as they were doing right now.

Lady Willoughby shook her head, and she saw her husband's face darken. Lydia was their only daughter. At the age of three and twenty, she was one of the most eligible bachelorettes in England. This ball, held at their country estate in the north, was meant for her to find a suitor. Already, Lady Willoughby had noticed many of the young men they had invited becoming antsy and agitated. She could feel that it wouldn't be long before these men made a scene or demanded to see her daughter.

Lord Willoughby bowed and offered his excuses to the men in front of him before turning to his wife. "I don't care how much more primping and pressing that damned girl has to do. You find her and bring her down here even if you have to drag her yourself," he hissed. Lady Willoughby knew that her husband wasn't bluffing.

"Yes, my Lord," she said with a curtsy before swiftly exiting the ballroom. On her way out, she made sure to nod and smile at the guests, at all times appearing as if nothing were amiss. The Willoughbys cared desperately about their public perceptions, carefully curating compliments at any opportunity they could.

She left the hustle of the ballroom and for the briefest of moments, enjoyed the stillness of the grand foyer before she searched for Lydia. Silently, servants came up and down the back service stair to refresh drink and meal trays. Crystal glasses tinkled together as they were brought downstairs to be cleaned, and quiet murmurs could be heard as they directed one another.

Grabbing her flowing skirts with her hands, she ascended up the stairs. Like many great houses, Lydia's room was on the third floor. Willoughbys of the past had been able to fill that floor with great swathes of offspring. In fact, when she had met her husband, Lady Willoughby could recall the bustle and noise of children playing on the third floor filling the house.

Much to her regret, they had only been blessed with their Lydia and even then, Lady Willoughby hadn't seen much of the child until she'd reached adolescence. Much of the girl's youth was spent with nannies and tutors. Still, she felt something akin to love for the girl, except for those occasions when she was being exceptionally obstinate, such as this evening. It had been nearly two hours since the first guests had arrived, and Lydia had been holed up in her room the entire time.

Reaching the landing of the third story of the manor, Lady Willoughby heard some kind of grunting sound. As she approached Lydia's bed chambers, she heard the girl cry out. Petrified of what may lay behind, Lady Willoughby continued on. What she saw before her eyes resembled a nightmare.

Lydia lay on her bed, the linens drench with sweat and blood. Sweat glistened across her brow and her hands were wrapped around her swollen abdomen. Around her, her lady's maid Abigail bustled, bringing a cloth of cool water to her mistress' forehead. Sensing her arrival, Abigail stopped her work by Lydia's side for merely a moment. "My Lady," she said solemnly, before returning her attention back to the girl before her.