Claire Fairchild was the illegitimate daughter of Baron Chershister—though everyone in the village knew this except her.

Her mother, Mariane Fairchild, arrived in a remote village in Somerset, disoriented and six months pregnant.

At first, raising her daughter alone proved difficult, especially amidst the whispers. Rumors spread like wildfire: she had supposedly been Lady Chershister’s maid for years and had engaged in an affair with her employer’s husband. The villagers criticized her harshly, accusing her of betraying the lady of the house despite her years of loyal service.

The tragic truth, however, was that she had been an innocent eighteen-year-old living in a world ruled by men, and Lord Chershister had taken advantage of her naivety.

Mariane endured the endless criticism in silence, never once voicing her pain.

Eventually, she secured a position as a cook at Silvermoon Abbey. Tying on an apron, she learned to cook not only to survive but to provide for her daughter.

One fateful day, a frequent visitor to the abbey, Mr. Collins—an intimate friend of the owner—found himself wandering into the kitchens by chance. When his eyes met Mariane’s, he knew she would be his future wife.

Mariane did not find Mr. Collins particularly attractive, given his portly frame and noticeable strabismus. However, his kindness and endearing clumsiness soon won her over.

Though not a wealthy man, Mr. Collins possessed more money than Mariane and owned a respectable house. When he asked for her hand, she accepted without hesitation.

Initially, Mr. Collins expressed reservations about Claire, Mariane’s daughter. But once Mariane told him that Claire was the daughter of her first husband, a sailor who had tragically died after years of service in the navy, Mr. Collins raised no further questions.

Claire knew Mr. Collins was not her biological father, but she considered him as such, calling him “Father” and striving to make him proud.

When Claire was four years old, the marriage produced twin daughters, Alice and April, who, like Claire, inherited their mother’s beauty.

The three sisters were inseparable, running through the fields and laughing together until tears of joy ran down their cheeks. When the twins cried, Claire would sing to them, and they would fall asleep almost instantly.

Claire’s voice was extraordinary. Whenever she sang, people would pause whatever they were doing to listen, captivated. The villagers unanimously agreed she was the best singer they had ever heard.

Word of her talent eventually reached Lady Wentworth, who visited the village to see for herself. When she heard Claire sing, she was astonished and immediately offered to help the girl pursue a career in music.

Unfortunately, Mariane, fearful for her daughter’s future, declined Lady Wentworth’s offer and begged Claire to abandon dreams of a musical career.

But it was too late—Claire’s dream had already taken root. More than anything else in the world—besides owning a dog or becoming a princess—Claire yearned to be an opera singer.

She imagined herself standing on grand stages, the applause of an enraptured audience urging her to sing more and more.

Surprisingly, Lady Wentworth grew fond of the fair-skinned, golden-haired girl. She became Claire’s protector, vowing that such talent would not go to waste.

Though childless herself, Lady Wentworth had always longed for children. The closest she had ever come was her beloved nephew.

When Claire turned nineteen, Lady Wentworth proposed to Mrs. Collins that she present Claire to society and help her secure a good marriage. Grateful for the opportunity, Mrs. Collins agreed immediately, though Claire was less enthusiastic.

Still, if marrying a wealthy man meant she could achieve the dreams beyond her current station, she was ready. She would fight tooth and nail to make them come true.