Morning in the City
"Did you hear? She was in the Cross box— with him!"
"Poor thing. Though one must admit, she cleans up well for a ruined woman."
"My husband says the Minister seemed quite taken. It won't last."
"Of course not. A man like that never keeps a fallen lady past a season."
By the time the city awoke fully, those voices had already multiplied. Servants carried the whispers with the morning tea, and shopkeepers repeated them to customers before the ink on the society pages had dried. The women of the capital sharpened their tongues with practiced delight, and the men listened with thin smiles—half scandal, half calculation.
The verdict was unanimous: Serena Maxwell was fashionable again, but only as a spectacle. Every lady waited for her to slip; every gentleman watched to see whether Christopher Cross would grow bored first.
Serena
