1 March 1811. Today I fell in love. At the age of ten Miss Miranda Cheever showed no signs of ever becoming a Great Beauty. Her hair was lamentably brown her eyes the same muddy colour & her legs which were uncommonly long refused to learn anything which might remotely be called grace. Only in 1811 the nineteen-year-old Viscount Turner
- eldest brother of Miranda's closest friend
- had kissed the hand of an awkward ten-year-old girl & promised her that one day she'd be as beautiful as she was smart. Now eight years later Miranda is a woman grown & Turner an embittered widower. But she has never forgotten his kindness. Indeed it is only in her diary that she confides the truth: she has never stopped loving Turner & she has never stopped hoping that one day he will see her as more than a nave girl.