Chapter Text
Dearest gentle readers,
This Author has heard no less than three separate people declare how dreadfully flat and stale they are finding this Season in the scant week and a half since Lady Danbury's opening ball. A shocking thing to say, certainly, for Lady Danbury makes very free with her cane, and those who even hint that she has not sufficiently entertained stand in a considerable amount of danger; yet, can we truly blame them? Lady Wu's garden entertainment passed without a whisper; Countess Damiani's musicale was so flawless in every particular that the Author quite simply has no tales of scandal with which to delight the reader; and as we all know, the less said about the Maitland ball, the better.
Is the entire ton to descend into an ennui so pervasive that we may never see the end of it? The Author refuses to allow this sorry state of affairs to persist.
To that end:
The Bridgerton masquerade is to be in two days, on the 16th of this month.
Lady Whistledown will be in attendance from ten o'clock until the carriages are called.
Reader, if you find her, you may ask one question of her. The question may be anything of your choosing. She will answer it – and honestly, for as we all know, Lady Whistledown does not lie. But beware, dearest reader, for nothing in this life is free. The price? You must supply a piece of gossip of your own. Lady Whistledown deals in nothing so common and base as coin; secrets are her stock in trade, and it is secrets that This Author aims to collect. Do bring something worth the effort, won't you?
You will not be provided with a hint as to her costume or appearance. Find her, if you can, using only your wits and your knowledge of your fellow members of the ton. This is a challenge, my dear readers. Rise to it.
Let the games begin!
⸺Lᴀᴅʏ Wʜɪsᴛʟᴇᴅᴏᴡɴ's Sᴏᴄɪᴇᴛʏ Pᴀᴘᴇʀs
12 March 1814