There is an advantage to having a name. A powerful, wealthy name. Being a Widdowson has always had its advantages, Abigail knows that, but she's never had it at her fingertips before. After the death of her family, she was kept inside the manor as much as possible. Before that, she only saw her father wield the name. Now, out on her own, she is her own woman. The name is hers.

And she uses it to its full advantage to perform the society dance around the notable figures to bring her close enough to Sylvia Redbright to address the woman personally. By now, Abigail's fairly sure everyone who's anyone knows that she's here and who she is, but introductions are still polite

"Abigail Widdowson, ma'am." She smiles, her youth and sheltered life showing through. At nineteen, she's had a lot less experience out in the world than some people half her age. But she's had education and lessons in formality, which are worth a great deal in the right situations. "That was a lovely speech."