The morning of Felicity's private audience with Princess Sophia arrived with crisp winter sunshine that made London's frost-covered streets sparkle like diamonds. As her carriage rolled through the city toward the Princess's residence, Felicity reviewed the carefully prepared notes she and Adrian had compiled over the previous days.
"You're going to be magnificent," Adrian had assured her at breakfast, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Just be yourself—honest, passionate, intelligent. The Princess already admires you; this meeting will only solidify her support."
Now, as she was ushered into an elegant private sitting room where Princess Sophia waited with a warm smile, Felicity felt her nervousness transform into excited anticipation.
"Lady Blackwood," the Princess said, gesturing for Felicity to sit beside her on a comfortable settee near the fire. "How delightful to see you again. We've been quite eager for this conversation."
The informality of the setting—just the two of them with tea and cakes, no hovering courtiers or formal protocol—immediately put Felicity at ease.
"Your Royal Highness is most kind," Felicity replied. "I'm honored by your interest in my charitable work."
"Your work interests us because it addresses a genuine need with practical solutions," Princess Sophia said bluntly. "So many charitable endeavors are more about the benefactor's social standing than actual help for those in need. Your approach seems refreshingly different."
For the next hour, Felicity explained her vision in detail—homes where women like Sarah could find shelter, training, and employment opportunities; education for their children; connections to respectable positions that would allow them to support themselves with dignity rather than charity.
"The key," Felicity explained, warming to her subject, "is not just temporary relief but sustainable change. A woman who can support herself and her children with honest work has her dignity intact. She becomes a productive member of society rather than a perpetual charity case."
Princess Sophia listened with obvious interest, occasionally asking perceptive questions that showed genuine understanding of the complexities involved.
"You speak from experience, don't you?" the Princess said gently. "Not just observation, but personal understanding of what it means to be dependent on others' charity."
Felicity hesitated, then decided that honesty had served her well thus far. "Yes, Your Royal Highness. Before my marriage, I... my circumstances were quite difficult. I understand what it means to feel powerless, to be treated as though your worth is determined by your social position rather than your character."
"And that experience has given you insight that most society ladies lack," Princess Sophia said approvingly. "This is precisely why we wish to offer our patronage, Lady Blackwood. Your project has the potential to change lives in meaningful ways."
The Princess rose and moved to her writing desk, returning with a document that made Felicity's breath catch.
"This is a letter of royal patronage," Princess Sophia explained, "granting our official support to what we shall call the Blackwood Foundation for Women's Welfare. It also includes a substantial monetary contribution from our personal funds, and permission to use our name in soliciting additional support from other benefactors."
Felicity stared at the document with tears pricking at her eyes. "Your Royal Highness, I don't know what to say. This is beyond anything I could have hoped for."
"Say you'll use it wisely," Princess Sophia replied with a smile. "And that you'll call upon us if you encounter obstacles. We have some influence in certain circles that might prove useful."
As their meeting drew to a close, the Princess's expression grew more serious. "Lady Blackwood, we feel compelled to mention something that may be... delicate."
"Of course, Your Royal Highness."
"We've heard certain whispers about Lady Victoria Ashford and her... persistent interest in your husband." Princess Sophia's tone was carefully neutral. "Such situations can be quite troublesome for young marriages."
Felicity chose her words carefully. "Lady Victoria and Lord Blackwood have a history, Your Royal Highness. But I'm confident in my husband's devotion."
"As you should be," the Princess said warmly. "We've observed Lord Blackwood at various functions over the years, and we've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. That kind of love is rare and precious."
She paused, then continued with obvious intent. "However, Lady Victoria has been known to be... persistent when she wants something. And she's not above using social connections to create difficulties for those she views as obstacles."
The warning was delicately delivered but unmistakable. Princess Sophia was alerting her to expect continued trouble from Victoria, while also implying that royal support would be available if needed.
"I appreciate Your Royal Highness's concern," Felicity said. "And your wisdom in understanding the situation."
"We have lived long enough to recognize when a woman is motivated by genuine feeling versus wounded pride," Princess Sophia said dryly. "Lady Victoria's interest in Lord Blackwood has always struck us as more about winning than about actual affection."
After taking her leave with promises to keep the Princess informed of the Foundation's progress, Felicity returned home to find Blackwood House in an uproar of activity. Adrian met her in the entrance hall, his expression grim.
"What's happened?" she asked immediately, recognizing the tension in his posture.
"Victoria has made her next move," Adrian said, guiding her into his private study. "And it's more audacious than I expected."
On his desk lay an elegantly printed invitation—not a personal calling card but a formal announcement of a grand ball to be hosted by Lady Victoria Ashford at Ashford House in three weeks' time.
"I don't understand," Felicity said, studying the invitation. "Why is this concerning? We can simply decline to attend."
"Look at the date," Adrian said quietly.
Felicity's eyes widened as she realized the significance. The ball was scheduled for December twenty-third—two days before Christmas, during the height of the social season when everyone who mattered would be in London.
"She's positioning it as the event of the season," Adrian explained. "And she's already sent invitations to every important family in London, including several members of the royal household."
"But why would she risk such an elaborate event? After everything that's happened..."
"Because," Adrian said, his jaw tightening with anger, "she's going to use it as a stage for one final, public attempt to humiliate us. Look at the guest list."
He handed her another paper, and Felicity felt her stomach drop as she scanned the names. Mr. Thomas Ashworth. Dr. Edmund Whitmore. Mr. Charles Whitworth. Lady Margaret Ashford. Every person who had attempted to undermine their marriage or spread malicious gossip was included on the list.
"She's gathering her allies for a coordinated attack," Felicity said slowly. "But attacking us how? What could she possibly do at her own ball that wouldn't reflect badly on her?"
Adrian's expression was troubled. "I don't know yet. But whatever she's planning, it will be designed to publicly question the legitimacy of our marriage, your worthiness as a countess, or both."
"Then we don't attend," Felicity said firmly. "We refuse to play her game."
"If we refuse to attend, we look afraid," Adrian countered. "We look like we have something to hide. Victoria will spin our absence as proof that we're not confident in our position."
"And if we attend?"
"Then we walk into whatever trap she's prepared, but at least we face it on our own terms."
Felicity moved to the window, watching the winter afternoon fade into evening. In the three months since her marriage, she had transformed from a frightened servant into a confident countess with royal patronage and society connections. She had survived Victoria's attacks before, had won over skeptical aristocrats, had earned genuine respect through her charitable work.
But this felt different. This felt like a culmination, a final battle that would determine once and for all whether she truly belonged in the world she had married into.
"We should attend," she said finally, turning back to face Adrian. "Not just attend—we should make a statement. Show Victoria and everyone else that we're not intimidated by her schemes."
Adrian crossed the room to her, his hands coming to frame her face with infinite tenderness. "Are you certain? I won't risk your health or our child's wellbeing for the sake of social maneuvering."
"I'm certain," Felicity said, covering his hands with hers. "Because if we hide now, we'll always be vulnerable to this kind of attack. But if we face Victoria's worst and emerge victorious, we'll never have to fear her again."
"My magnificent, brave wife," Adrian murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Very well. We'll attend Victoria's ball and turn her own weapon against her."
"How?"
Adrian's smile was predatory. "By being so obviously, radiantly in love that every person in that ballroom can see the truth. By showing such unity that no accusation, no innuendo, no carefully planned humiliation can shake it."
"And if she has something more substantial planned? Some actual evidence or revelation designed to destroy us?"
"Then we'll face it together," Adrian said simply. "As we've faced everything else since the night you discovered I wasn't the broken monster society believed me to be."
As they stood together in the fading light, planning their strategy for Victoria's ball, Felicity felt a curious sense of calm settling over her. This was it—the final test of everything they had built together. Their love, their partnership, their place in society—all of it would be challenged in the most public way possible.
But she wasn't afraid anymore. Not with Adrian beside her, not with royal patronage supporting her charitable work, not with the genuine friendships she had cultivated among London's more discerning society ladies.
Victoria could gather her allies and plan her most elaborate scheme. She could invite witnesses and prepare her accusations. She could stage her grand ball with all the malicious intent in the world.
But she would discover, as others had before her, that Lady Felicity Blackwood was not so easily destroyed.
And that the love between Lord and Lady Blackwood was stronger than any force Victoria could bring to bear against it.
"Three weeks," Felicity said quietly, her hand finding Adrian's in the growing darkness. "Three weeks to prepare."
"Three weeks," Adrian agreed, his fingers tightening around hers with reassuring strength. "And then we end this, once and for all."
As the winter night settled over London, bringing with it the promise of snow and the approaching Christmas season, the stage was being set for a confrontation that would determine the future of their marriage and their place in society.
The game was reaching its climax, and for better or worse, the Blackwoods were ready to play their final hand.