Constance Harlowe was a well known spinster and she wore the title unapologetically. She did not care what the people said to her or to others. That’s why she was able to host her lavish parties, small that they were, to a select few of society. She knew that some were fascinated by her and she was sometimes a spectacle. But she threw parties they would talk about for the next years to come, too.
 
She wanted laughter and companionship without the hassle of being married. Who cared that she was going on 40 and didn’t bother to look for a husband when she was younger? It kept her youthful, damn it. She happily sat there at the head of the table, chatting with a peculiar fellow with a curled mustache and monocle, lauding her choice of turbot for supper. The hum of conversation filled the air as the party was in full swing.