The Ring and the Crown by Cruz Melissa de La

Author:Cruz, Melissa de La [Cruz, Melissa de La]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Young Adult, Historical, Romance
ISBN: 9781423157427
Amazon: 1423157427
Goodreads: 18296016
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
Published: 2014-04-01T07:00:00+00:00

Hotel Claridge figured highly in Ronan’s imagination of London high society, and it did not disappoint. While pollution had turned the once-red bricks of London’s best buildings gray, Claridge’s façade sparkled in the sun. There was no wind on the street and the air was still, but the flags above the entry billowed slowly, their folds animated and graceful. Ivy graced a cast-iron awning, milk-white flowers dotting the foliage. Their white petals winked open and shut as she approached. Magic, Ronan thought. How wonderful, and how utterly luxurious it was to use such a power to make things look nice.

The hotel had been highly recommended by Lady Grosvernor, and Ronan thought she recognized a few titled and noble patrons in the hushed room. However, knowing what had happened to their grand staterooms on the ship, she was fully prepared to be booked into the maids’ rooms when they checked in. Sure enough, the rooms were as small as could be, with a view of the wall next door.

Still, it was wonderful to finally be in London. Ronan spent an invigorating week taking in the sights and visiting museums. She had left her card with Lady Grosvernor, but the grand doyenne had still not returned her call. Ronan tried not to be put out, but without her patron, she had no entrance to any of the fancy parties and dinners that were swirling around her. She hoped the lady would call on her soon.

The next afternoon, Ronan was sitting in the lobby when she noticed Sigrid Van Owen stomping down the staircase, haranguing the army of footmen who strove to keep up with her while carrying all of her luggage. Whitney was hurrying after her mother, looking abashed and apologetic. She saw Ronan and gave her a hapless shrug.

Ronan walked over to her friend. “What happened?” she asked. “Are you leaving?” She watched as the great Mrs. Van Owen swept out of the lobby and into a hansom cab.

Whitney crinkled her nose. “We can’t stay. We just got a letter from the duchess. Apparently she lied about everything, just to get more money from Papa. There was no invitation for the queen’s luncheon at all, and the ball is completely out of the question, since it’s a special year with the princess announcing her engagement. Mother is furious and mortified—says she won’t stay the season if we can’t go to anything except a few little teas and dances at minor houses. We’re to leave for Italy immediately. She says she’ll take an Italian count if she can’t get me an empire peerage.”

“Oh Whitney, I’m so sorry!”

Whitney laughed. “Me too—all my nice things, wasted!”

“Can’t you wear them in Italy?”

“Not a one. We’re going to be doing a Grand Tour, so all I’ll be wearing are practical clothes and walking shoes.”

“Pity,” Ronan sighed.

Her friend agreed. “It’s such a waste of a wardrobe. And I was so looking forward to it, especially—well, you know!” She looked at Ronan. “Speaking of, what are you wearing to the ball? It must be fabulous!”

“Oh, me—” Ronan said.

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