It had been a year since Albina Northwick had been the shining star of her second season. The beautiful daughter of a Marquess, she had been expected by all to secure an advantageous marriage in her second season, as was tradition. Her suitors had been plentiful, and her presence at balls and soirees had never failed to turn heads. Everyone in the ton had anticipated her engagement by the end of the year. But now, a year later, the whispers of scandal had chased her away from London’s glittering society.
The revelation of Albina’s hidden child had shattered the pristine image she had so carefully crafted. What had once been admiration and intrigue had turned into gossip and disdain. No matter her status or beauty, a young, unmarried mother in London society was no longer desirable - she was ruined. The secret that had been held between her and her twin sister had come to light in the most brutal fashion. The little boy she had given birth to in secret - whom her sister had lovingly raised in Albina’s stead - had been exposed.
Society’s cruelty had been swift. Invitations were rescinded, her name whispered in corners, and the lords who had once flocked to her side quickly distanced themselves. No explanations, no appeals could wash away the taint of scandal. Her mother had all but withdrawn from her in disgrace, and her younger siblings had been instructed to distance themselves from the fallen eldest daughter.
Faced with the complete collapse of her prospects, Albina did the only thing she could - she left. She gathered her son and fled to their estate in Wales, the one place that had always felt like home. However, young Albina hadn’t left London alone. Her brother, the new Marquess of Aberporth, had seen to that. Though bound by the weight of his title and the expectations of the ton, he had always been her staunchest ally, even when society had turned its back on her. It was his quiet intervention that had ensured her escape from the city before the whispers of scandal grew into full-blown condemnation.
Late one night, before the full fury of the gossip could descend, her brother had come to her chambers, a quiet figure in the shadows. His face, usually a mask of noble composure, had been tight with concern. “Albina,” he had said in a low voice, “you cannot stay here. This will destroy you.”
At first, she had resisted. She didn’t want to run. But her brother’s calm insistence broke through her pride. He had already arranged everything - a carriage in the dead of night, a discreet route out of the city, and, most importantly, a place where she could go. Their family’s old cottage on the Welsh coast, tucked away in the hills near their estate, was far from the eyes of the ton. It was a modest home, a place she had visited only in her childhood and that had been inhabited for years, but it was now to become her sanctuary.
“I’ll ensure no one finds you there,” her brother had promised. “The staff will be sworn to secrecy. They’re loyal to me. They’ll protect you and the boy.”
Though he couldn’t openly stand by her, his position as Marquess demanded too much discretion, he had been her silent protector. Without his influence, Albina would have been entirely exposed, cast out with nowhere to turn. It was because of him that she could find refuge here, hidden away from the harsh judgments of London society.
But even here, in the quiet seclusion of the cottage, Albina could not escape her thoughts. She sat at her fireplace, her two-year-old son playing beside her. The boy was her heart - her joy. His laughter was the only thing that had sustained her through the darkest moments. She had no regrets about him, no matter what society thought. But she couldn’t help but wonder what her future held now. The freedom she had once longed for, away from the confines of London’s restrictive social norms, had come at the highest price.
Albina’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her son’s giggles. Glancing up from her reverie, she watched as he toddled across the room, his tiny feet moving with excitement. He had always been such a curious child, full of energy and wonder. She smiled, the worries of the world momentarily fading at the sight of him.
“Lewis, where are you going now?” she called gently, her voice warm with affection. But instead of responding, the boy darted toward the far side of the room, his little hand outstretched as he reached for something.
Albina blinked in surprise. She had lived in the cottage for months now, but something about this moment felt different. She had never paid much attention to the far wall of the parlor, where a faded tapestry hung, its edges frayed with age. Lewis was tugging at it now, his small fingers pulling it back with surprising strength for a child his size. Albina stood up quickly, her heart skipping a beat.
“Lewis, darling, be careful -”
Before she could finish, the tapestry fell aside, revealing a door. Albina’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t noticed this door before. How could she have missed it? Her mind raced, but there was no time to ponder. Lewis, with his boundless curiosity, had already pushed the door open with a creak and slipped through the narrow crack. His laughter echoed from the other side.
“Lewis!” Albina’s voice was sharper now, panic seeping in as she hurried after him. She hadn’t thought there could be any unexplored parts of the cottage. The door had blended so seamlessly into the wall that it might have been forgotten for generations.
She stepped through the doorway into what appeared to be a narrow corridor, dimly lit by shafts of light from high, narrow windows. The air was cooler here, almost damp, and it carried the faint scent of salt, as if the sea breeze had found its way into the house. The corridor was long and seemed to stretch farther than the walls of the cottage should have allowed.
Albina hesitated for only a moment before she continued forward, her pulse quickening. She could hear Lewis’ soft giggles ahead, guiding her. What was this place? Had her family always known about this hidden wing, or was this something else entirely? She had grown up visiting this estate, but no one had ever mentioned such a passage.
Her footsteps echoed as she followed the sound of her son’s laughter deeper into the corridor. The walls seemed to close in, the stone cold under her fingertips as she brushed against them. At the end of the hallway, she saw a faint glow - a soft, ethereal light spilling through a large, arched doorway.
She rushed through the arch, and what she saw took her breath away.
