Violet Wintour is a controversial heiress in the 21st-century high society, but not for the same reasons other rich kids of London are. Her father, the Duke of Averbury, passed away with a family will that leads to a surprising twist. Across the world, Clare Leighton is living a modest life. Years of struggling with bankruptcy begin to take a toll on her family. Her caring yet depressed parents force her to take a different path that she hasn't prepared for. When the hand of fate brings these two different women together, something is going to change forever.더 보기
After a long dinner with endless gourmet food, drinks, and laughter, the friends finally called it a night since they didn't want to overexcite themselves and needed to save the energy for more fun-filled activities that they had planned around the dining table. At 10:30 PM, everyone went to their separate sleeping quarters and so did the Duchess and her bride-to-be. As Violet and Claire entered their room, a sense of unease settled upon them. The space was cozy, with soft lighting casting a warm glow on the floral-patterned wallpaper. A large, inviting bed stood in the center, its pristine white silk sheets looked like inviting soft clouds. But for Violet and Claire, it felt more like a shared burden than a place of comfort. Awkward silences hung in the air as they tiptoed around the elephant in the room—the bed they were meant to share tonight and every night for the rest of their trip. The two women exchanged nervous glances, their discomfort palpable. Violet and Claire stood i
The grand dining room exudes an aura of elegance and refinement as seven distinguished guests gather for an exquisite dinner. Soft candlelight dances on the polished silverware and crystal glasses, casting a warm glow throughout the space. The dinner was held on a large balcony with a sea view. The breeze and the sound of waves in the distance added flavor to the evening ambiance. The table is adorned with delicate floral arrangements, giving a touch of nature to the opulent setting. At the head of the table, the host, Arthur Cliffton, son of a Scottish duke, dressed casually for the evening at his beach house. To his right was Jasmine, a renowned artist with her creative spirit evident in her vibrant multi-colored dress. On the left, Jonathan, the young earl, whose smile shined through in every conversation. Seated across from the host was the most handsome, Lord Federick, known for his sweetness and intelligence, was talking delightfully with the ladies. In this enchanting dining t
Violet walked into the room, taking in its grandeur. The room was massive and was indeed splendid, but not in an old-fashioned way as Violet had expected. As she wandered around, the Duchess was rather impressed with the design and its hidden size. Violet felt the need to sit down on a cushioned sofa that looked incredibly inviting after a long flight. She observed the space and noticed the chestnut-colored floorboard that gave off a warm feeling. That was what she wanted for a home - a feeling of warmth and comfort. Like her mother, she would want a place to be some sort of sanctuary. It made her miss Averbury already. The bookshelf was overflowing with hardbound books. Just like a wine cellar stocked with fine wines, these shelves were for great collections of the classics and the valuables. Violet went to the credenza to pour herself a glass of cool water, which had slices of lemons in it. She flopped down again in a wing-back chair by the floor-to-ceiling window and looked outsid
"Oh, how I miss coming to the sun-drenched island of Spain." Florence took a lungful of fresh air. She stepped out of the private jet that had landed at the Canary Island's international airport. The second person to follow was Clare. It was her first time on a private jet. She was still getting used to the special treatments that came with her status, but she was trying to be mindful and kept close to Florence.The whole flight was a smooth and easy journey, and Violet spent the entirety of it quietly working away on her laptop. If she wasn't typing, she was speaking on the phone. The Duchess dove straight to her work and hardly saw Clare again after their dinner night, but when they met during the trip, they had been somewhat cord
Violet considered bailing on the plan to the island that her peers proposed. Going on a trip together and pretending to be a lovey-dovey couple with Clare, not to mention seeing her ex, would be testing her sanity. The thought of it alone exhausted her. It'd been two days since Violet was made to stay in bed, and Clare had come with her meals like clockwork. Although Clare didn't try to force-feed her anymore, she still hang around the room, reading her books and wouldn't leave until the Duchess finished her food. With great disdain, Violet thought she had seen enough of that woman. But there were random flashbacks brought on by the memory of Clare in her swimsuit lurking around in Violet's mind. Despite being intoxicated, overworked, and sick, her memory was still sharp. She remembered being lifted out of the poolside like a drowned kitten. She could still feel Clare's lips on her own and her breath rushing down her throat to her lungs. The act was just too intimate for her comfor
The smell of chlorine clogged her senses. Everything around Clare was a blur of limbs and bubbles. But she managed to kick her feet to push herself back to the surface. The water stung her eyes, and she let out a cough. Clare swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted herself up. She wiped the water off her face. This was such a ridiculous thing to happen when all she wanted was some peace and quiet. Violet had to come and make everything difficult for her.But it was then that she realized that she was alone, and Violet was nowhere in sight. Clare's thoughs stopped. She then looked back
It took at least three days for Shirley to finalize the dinner menu and wine list for Violet's banquet. It wasn't any different from any other event in the past. Averbury Castle had always had important people coming over when the twelfth Duke was alive. But this time it was quite a special case. Violet didn't tell the secretary specifically that it had to be a statement, yet judging from the guest list, Shirley knew what the dinner ought to be and what to be mindful of, for instance, seating arrangement. She did not expect to see a certain name that had been forbidden to be spoken of coming back to the castle.
Clare followed the maids to the northern garden. Next to a small pond surrounded by the blooming rhododendron and azalea bushes, a white table and chairs were set up under a shady olive tree. Yellow-winged butterflies whizzed about in merriment where Violet sat, sipping her morning tea.The Duchess wasn't in her usual business attire. She had on a plain oversized white blouse with a few buttons undone and the sleeves were rolled up to her elbows neatly. Her flowing golden hair was set in a high ponytail, which stunningly revealed her chiseled features even more. Clare was slightly taken aback
A feather could've knocked Eleanor over right then and there. She finally understood what Florence had said to her at the polo field. Indeed, things had changed since the time she left England. But Eleanor did not expect that Violet Wintour, of all people, would succumb to a life of marriage with someone else. Once in a while, she came across headlines about the Duchess. Violet was notorious with her flings yet none of them indicated a committed love interest. It might sound so vain of her to feel this way, but while living her pretentious life, Eleanor had always nurtured a tiny hope that she would come back to find Violet still thinking about her, and that no one could replace what they had together. But apparently, she had gravely underestimated everythin
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