Chapter 32: The Allure of the Unknown

The streets of London’s market were alive with a symphony of sounds—vendors calling out their wares, the chatter of hurried passersby, the occasional clang of a blacksmith’s hammer against iron. The scent of roasting chestnuts, damp cobblestones, and the faint acrid tang of horse-drawn carriages mingled in the cool evening air. It was nothing like the world I knew, the pristine ballrooms and perfectly arranged tea settings of Cavendish Manor.

And that was precisely why I was here.

Wrapped in a simple wool cloak, my bonnet pulled low over my brow, I wove through the crowds, my heartbeat quickening with every step. No one recognized me. No one saw me as Lady Charlotte Aldridge, the daughter of privilege, the woman expected to smile prettily and marry well.

Tonight, I was just another face in the crowd.