Dearest Readers, 

I fear I have willingly rushed into the arms of scandal. I was quite resigned to forfeiting all pursuits of love and such, renouncing matters of the heart for loftier endeavors of the arts—poetry, painting, and the theatre. My sordid history, in the realm of romance, I’ve kept as no secret. Jaded by these failures, I have long viewed amour as the highest form of foolishness and wanted no part of it. 

But it seems I’ve grown mawkish in my golden years. Once firmly resigned to a life as a lone she-wolf, I find myself ensconced in the embrace of a certain gentleman who I first spied across a crowded room in late winter. Recognizing me, he delivered a roguish smile, teeth gleaming like South Sea pearls. He stood and my heart skipped a single beat. As he boldly strode my way, I couldn’t help but notice how delightfully his form filled out his trousers. His was a body built for dancing the horizontal quadrille. So, despite his reputation as a bit of scoundrel, who had left legions of hearts shattered in his wake, I pursued a romantic rendezvous. 

If society learned of our familiarity, it would set tongues to wagging and fingers to pointing. I warrant certain ladies of the court would faint dead away. But, alas, I have endured the unwanted attention of gossipmongers for many a year and am somewhat immune to their tattlings. Perhaps soon we’ll take a promenade in public and give them occasion to gasp and whisper. 

Since meeting his acquaintance, I have committed many acts requiring atonement and, I dare say, my long-dormant passions have again been reignited. What began as a reckless rendezvous has grown into something more, a friendship of the fondest sort sewn from the realization we are cut from the same brocade. 

Mere months ago, I could not have fathomed deriving delight from such a dalliance and would have deemed my desire drivel. But now I embrace this strange sensation, this fluttering beneath the surface of my frequently displayed decolletage. This unfamiliar feeling…whatever it is…I blame it on Bridgerton.

Yours Truly, 
Lady Bloomersdown