The first of September arrived with a change in the air—neither summer nor autumn, but something uncertain in between. The heat that had clung to the city for weeks had thinned, replaced by a gentler, drier warmth. Windows were opened again, curtains stirred, and the streets filled with the sound of cars and carriages returning from the countryside.
Society, restless after the slow month of August, was waking. And with its awakening came talk.
Gossip Before Dawn
"Did you hear? The Minister's gathering tonight—private, but not too private. She's expected."
"Who? Oh—her. I thought she'd learned her lesson."
"Apparently not. Men never resist reclamation projects."
"She'll fall again, mark my words. They always do."
By breakfast, the whispers had hardened into certainty: Lady Serena Maxwell would attend Christopher Cross's intimate evening salon at the Ministry residence. Her name rolled off tongues like a familiar refrain.
Among men, the tone was different.
