Vera

"NOT YOUR REGULAR VICTORIAN ROMANCE"

"I don't think this is a particularly good idea," Haddock observed.
"I'm a Vassemer. We don't have good ideas."

The Season of 1889 is drawing to a close, and two of the three Vassemer sisters have settled themselves — and, as every gossip in the capital has gleefully noted, settled themselves remarkably well, marrying considerably above their station.
Which leaves only Vera.
Vera, who keeps insisting to anyone who will listen that she intends to become a successful writer and has absolutely no interest in marriage. Was there ever anything so scandalous? Who on earth would want a girl like that?
As it happens, London has rather more interesting scandals on its hands this season. Not the standard fare: adultery, blackmail, illegitimate children, creative accounting. Not even the perennial nuisance of the nouveaux riches demanding more room at the table. And certainly nothing to do with the suffragists and their absurd insistence that women ought to vote.
No. Somewhere in the city, a secret is about to surface. The kind that polite society has always known existed and has always agreed, collectively and very firmly, not to mention.
The greatest scandal of the age is coming.
Or perhaps not. After all, if there is one thing the nobility of the realm has always excelled at, it is sweeping things under the carpet.

Unfit is a trilogy about the tribulations of several perfectly respectable gentlemen who asked nothing more of life than peace, quiet, and the sacred comforts of the patriarchy — now besieged by the staggering tactlessness of three young women with heads full of nonsense, set in a better time, when men were men and women were houseplants.