Ruining Miss Wrotham

Chapter 1

Chapter One

July 15th, 1812

London

Nell Wrotham had two godmothers. One had given her a bible when she was christened and a copy of Fordyce’s Sermons for Young Women when she turned twelve. Her father had insisted that Nell read the sermons and she had dutifully obeyed.

Nell’s second godmother hadn’t given her a gift yet and Nell’s father hadn’t known about her, because that godmother was a Faerie and her existence was a deep, dark secret. Her name was Baletongue and she would only come once, on Nell’s twenty-third birthday, and when she came she would grant Nell one wish.

Nell was wishing as the stagecoach she sat in rattled towards London. She was wishing that her twenty-third birthday had been yesterday, or perhaps today, or at the very latest, tomorrow. But it wasn’t. She still had a week to wait.

She sat on the lumpy seat, pressed close by a stout widow on one side and an even stouter attorney’s clerk on the other. Nell’s fingers were neatly folded over her reticule, her expression calm, her agitation hidden. A well-bred lady never shows her emotions—one of the many maxims drilled into her by her father. Her father, whose rigid, unforgiving righteousness was at the root of this disaster.

Nell clutched her reticule more tightly and wished for the thousandth time that her birthday was sooner—and prayed that when her Faerie godmother finally came it wouldn’t be too late.