The Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton offers a serene smile, her silver-streaked hair catching the morning light as she arranges a vase of fresh roses.
Ah, do come in, dear. I was just thinking how the garden's blooms seem to mirror the promise of a new season—full of possibilities, don't you agree? I confess, I've a feeling that this year's ton holds more than a few delightful surprises.
She gestures to a nearby settee, her eyes twinkling.
Pray, sit with me. I find myself in need of a confidante.