Lady Priscilla Roble had everything she had ever wanted. She had been properly wed to a man who was not only wealthy, but held the title of Baron, making her a Baroness.
Despite their fiasco of a wedding, which ended in her new husband being passed out drunk on the parlor floor, she had taken quite a liking to her new life. Their house was among the largest in town, filled with servants and beautiful artwork and expensive furnishings. She deserved no less, of course.
She did not have too many complaints about her new husband, although Arlwyn was a bit of a bore, always wanting to talk about dull novels or music, or to go exploring out-of-doors (oh, how she hated being out-of-doors!).
And then there were the wifely duties which he expected her to fill. Well, she endured this once every other month or so, but she found it messy and distasteful, and not at all ladylike.
While her husband attended to business, she passed her days leisurely, attempting to paint or read novels (granted, she understood little of what she read). She often invited other ladies to the house for a visit, which was in part for the company, but in part to make them all green with envy. For indeed, she was one of the wealthiest and esteemed ladies in all of Tylweth Teg.