The ones most susceptible to rumors were none other than the ladies of the society.
While mothers tirelessly sought advantageous matches for their daughters, they approached the selection of future wives for their sons with an even more discerning eye.
After all, sons brought their wives into the family fold, ensuring the continuation of the lineage.
Choosing the wrong son-in-law was a significant misstep, but a poor choice of daughter-in-law could have truly devastating consequences.
Maggie understood as much.
She didn't even know whether the pamphlet's content held true or not, but she knew that she did not hail from another noble family.
Which noble family would give out their children to another?
For what reason?
Maggie's lips curved into a wry smile.
It's alright.
Even if she failed to secure a match this year, she had at least forged some connections with her father's old friends and acquaintances.
She did not regret rejecting Nicholas' advances at all.
She would fight for the Countess of Huntington title no matter what. Not because she was greedy, but because it was what her father wanted for her.
On the day of Lady Daisy Blanchard's passing, the Earl clasped Maggie's tiny hands in his and declared her the heir to the entire earldom.
She was to become Countess of Huntington, and she was to marry a man who would marry into the Blanchard family and assume the Blanchard surname.
That was the only way to keep the lineage going, and to keep the Earldom within the Blanchard family's grasp.
Now that the Earl was no more, it was all up to Maggie.
For the sake of her poor father, she had to fight.
For the future. For the earldom.
"I like to see the determination in your eyes and posture," a voice suddenly arose behind Maggie, prompting her to turn around so fast she almost cracked her neck.
"Your... Your Grace," she choked out in disbelief.
The Marquess of Canterbury stood behind her, watching her full of interest.
Maggie quickly fell into a curtsy.
"Long time no see," she blurted out.
"Indeed."
The Marquess nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "I have been rather busy in the past several days."
So busy that he missed her debut at the Debutante Ball.
"I see."
He extended his hand at Maggie.
"Walk with me for a little stretch, will you?"
"Of course."
Maggie grasped his hand, and with a gentle touch, the Earl ushered her into a cool, flower-filled tunnel. Vibrant purple and white Wisteria vines snaked along the trellis overhead, their fragrant blooms brushing playfully against the crowns of the tallest garden visitors.
"Did something of importance happen during your stay in London?" The Marquess inquired.
"Yes, in fact, something did. My... I mean, Nicholas Cunningham visited me in my rented townhouse several days back."
The Marquess nodded gently.
"I see. And what was the purpose of his visit?"
"Initially, he was apologizing profusely for abandoning me at the mercy of a pack of dogs. And then he proposed resuming our connection, a suggestion I vehemently rejected."
The Marquess stopped in his tracks. They stared into each other's eyes.
"I am glad that you hold on to your principles, my Lady."
It was a compliment, but at the same time, it was also an insult.
"Did you take me for a foolish girl who sway at sweet words, Your Grace?"
Amusement tugged at the Marquess's lips.
"Self preservation is not a foolish act, my Lady." he pointed out.
Maggie's chest tightened at his words.
"Would you rather I accept his proposal?"
"No, of course not," the Marquess continued walking so abruptly that Maggie had to chase behind him.
"Those of noble lineages have plenty of more dignified ways to preserve themselves. There is no need to debase oneself and be led astray by disreputable characters."
Maggie exhaled out of relief.
"I am glad," she murmured.
"In return, are you aware that a certain leaflet has made its way to various households?"
"... Yes."
"I do not need to tell you who the perpetrator is. It is quite an blow on your reputation. Now that the damage is done, what do you plan to do next?"
"I managed to forge some connections from the Debutante Ball. I hope to strengthen them in days to come, to solidify my position in the society."
The Marquess nodded in approval.
"Be present, and be engaging. Keep your chin up at all times."
"I will. Uhh, Your Grace?"
"Yes?"
The Marquess gave Maggie a discerning look.
"Is it true...?"
"What is?"
"The content of the pamphlet. About my origins."
The vulnerability in Maggie's voice seemed to disarm the gentleman, his gaze softening a touch.
"It is a matter of eighteen years ago. There is no way to verify it. You understand that there are many poor farmer families lining the border to France."
"Oh..."
Maggie's hands clenched together, betraying her anxiety.
"I understand."
"Even if we go one step further and interrogate one family after another, what is the point? Lloyd Cunningham might have bribed one of the families to step forward and acknowledge you as their daughter."
And that would not help her case at all.
"I see."
Still, it would be nice to know where one hailed from.
"What about the witnesses who came forward to dispute my lineage?" She asked again. "Have their testimonies been confirmed?"
The Marquess's lips tightened into a taut line.
"That too, is difficult to verify, my Lady."
"Eighteen years are long enough time to cloud one's memory. The witness accounts were fragmented and incomplete, forcing us to piece together a narrative and assume that it is the truth.
There is also the possibility that their testimonies have been swayed by coins and not candor."
The circumstances of her birth, unfortunately, threatened to be her Achilles' heel in the coming struggle for the earldom.
"On top of the connections you managed to secure, have you attracted any prospective match?"
"I danced with several charming gentlemen during the ball, but I fear that they don't necessarily count as prospective matches," came Maggie's reply.
"What about the other way around?" The Marquess arched a brow at her. "Did you find someone to your liking?"
Maggie could not help but think about a particular gentleman who was steered out of her way by his own mother.
"I had a friendly encounter with Mr. George Bentley back then, but the pamphlet might have ruined my chances with him," she explained with a touch of exasperation.
"George Bentley, hm?"
The Marquess knitted his brows in deep thought.
"The pool of eligible bachelor is quite expansive, Lady Blanchard. Keep trying."
That was the best advice the Marquess gave her, but it did not help Maggie's case at all.
After returning from Lady Kensington's garden party, she did not receive any more invitations to any social function.
Maggie found herself ostracized by the ladies of the London society.
Those with unwed daughters saw her lack of wealth and connections as a liability, while those with unwed sons harbored suspicions about the legitimacy of her claim to nobility.
At this rate, her future endeavors were going to be very, very complicated.
Bored of reading at home, Maggie decided to take her books outdoor, where she might sit under a flowering tree and gather some inspiration for her next moves.
One sunny day, her peaceful afternoon was disrupted by the sound of something big splashing into the water, followed by a round of shrieks.
"Help!"
"Oh, please someone help! My child is drowning!!!"