[ Daphne Bridgerton was supposed to enter society in London. It was all set up, planned out, meticulously carved out since she was a small child — how she would dazzle society when finally she came of age.
Life, as it often chooses, does not go according to plan. Wrenches are thrown, plans go off rail, and Germany takes Poland, brutal and imperialist. The world runs red. Daphne learns the word fascism. The word sticks in her head.
Instead, she turns eighteen in the blizzard cold of New York, far from her home and everything she knows, relegated there by her eldest brother. She'd never been to New York before, that far-flung place of promise and arrogance. Pick yourself up by the bootstraps, that's what these Americans are all about.
She had known what he was doing when he made them pack and seen them onto the ship. She had railed at him in private — but Anthony did not listen. He could not afford to.
Much of the time, it's as if nothing is happening in the Americas. Neutrality elected over the right thing. Sometimes the adults speak in terse, quiet words. They read the newspaper columns, listen to the radio. War looms on the horizon — but Americans do not heed the call. Not yet.
Tensions are rising. Another party that week, and she knows it to be a distraction, though Daphne isn't one to turn down the opportunity to socialize.
She's at the piano when she notices him, tinkling out a tune for the hosts. A young man mingling with the crowd, a little older than herself she judges. His hair is slicked back, and the smile on his lips is charming, but — there's something else. She notices him; she's not sure why no one else seems to.
She sees him again on the balcony, a thin cigarette perched between her fingers. ]
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Life, as it often chooses, does not go according to plan. Wrenches are thrown, plans go off rail, and Germany takes Poland, brutal and imperialist. The world runs red. Daphne learns the word fascism. The word sticks in her head.
Instead, she turns eighteen in the blizzard cold of New York, far from her home and everything she knows, relegated there by her eldest brother. She'd never been to New York before, that far-flung place of promise and arrogance. Pick yourself up by the bootstraps, that's what these Americans are all about.
She had known what he was doing when he made them pack and seen them onto the ship. She had railed at him in private — but Anthony did not listen. He could not afford to.
Much of the time, it's as if nothing is happening in the Americas. Neutrality elected over the right thing. Sometimes the adults speak in terse, quiet words. They read the newspaper columns, listen to the radio. War looms on the horizon — but Americans do not heed the call. Not yet.
Tensions are rising. Another party that week, and she knows it to be a distraction, though Daphne isn't one to turn down the opportunity to socialize.
She's at the piano when she notices him, tinkling out a tune for the hosts. A young man mingling with the crowd, a little older than herself she judges. His hair is slicked back, and the smile on his lips is charming, but — there's something else. She notices him; she's not sure why no one else seems to.
She sees him again on the balcony, a thin cigarette perched between her fingers. ]
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