Chapter Four - Morning Callers

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Lady Whistledown's

SOCIETY PAPERS

Dearest, reader, this author finds herself compelled to share the most curious of news.

It seems our diamond requires a closer inspection.

As such, an even rarer jewel of only the most remarkable brilliance, fire, and luster has been unearthed. Her name, unknown to most, yet soon known to all, is Miss Marina Thompson.

This author is left to wonder whether Her Majesty might reconsider the high praise she once afforded Miss Bridgerton... for we all must know what the Queen despises more than anything... being wrong.

And the drawing room at Bridgerton House currently appears to be emptier than the muddled head of her dearest King George.

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"Oh, mama, did you see Miss Thompson at yesterday's ball?" I turn towards her, putting down Lady Whistledown's paper for a moment.

"I do believe that I saw her on the dancefloor," mama says, taking a sip of her tea as she sits at the table.

"Poor Daphne," I mutter, "have you read what they say about them- the Bridgerton's, I mean?"

"I have... and I have also read what Lady Whistledown wrote of you, my dear... a Duke?" Mama raises her eyebrows at me.

"It's not like we are courting, mama," I say, chuckling as I look around the room. The callers from earlier in the morning had left countless bouquets of flowers and a rather large pile of gifts in their wake. "I mean... there are other men that are perfectly suitable..."

"Hm," mama stays silent and opts to go back to her tea as I lay back on the couch.

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It follows that Lady Featherington is to receive what she has always desired: the season's true Incomparable living under her own roof. She must be overjoyed.

It has also come to my attention, dear reader, that the Duke of Windsor, has been seen at last night's ball, talking to none other than Lady Florence Huntingdon. With yet another Duke in town, this time with the intention to find a wife, this author is left to wonder if Lady Huntingdon has caught his eye.

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"-and so, by heaven, your love may burn from the depths of my soul. 'Tis thee I shall earn."

Lady Featherington suddenly begins to clap, jolting me awake from my doze. We all, on instinct, begin to join in, looking at the caller, Lord Byron, who had decided to recite his very long poem to Miss Thompson.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Gentleman, thank you for your calls," Lady Featherington says, plastering on a smile as she looks at each of the gentlemen sitting in her drawing room. "Do not forget to bid Prudence, Philippa, or even Penelope farewell as you go."

"I cannot believe we were forced to sit through that," I mutter, sharing a look with both Prudence and Philippa once all the callers had left the drawing room.

After the dust had settled, we all sat back down on the couches and began our mindless chatter.

"Florence..." Lady Featherington turned towards me and offered me a beaming smile. "I heard that you caught the attention of the Duke of Windsor himself! How lovely."

"Yes, well, my Florence is nothing if not charming," mama chuckled and sent me a wink.

"Could you imagine, Prudence, if Florence became a Duchess?" Philippa looked away dreamily.

"Please, we are not even courting," I chuckle and wave off her ideas.

Prudence quickly changes the topic, deciding to talk about the new dresses that had just arrived from the modiste that morning.

"Oh just wait until you see them, Florence," Prudence exclaimed, "they are simply stunning!"

"I'm sure they are," I mutter, looking over their dresses now with a careful eye. The bright colors certainly did make them stand out, and with their red hair I was still debating on if it was a strategic move by Lady Featherington, or if she just had no style at all.

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"Oh, Flore! Did you see what the Duke of Hastings was wearing?" Cressida swooned on her spot on the couch, fanning herself as she giggled. "I do think that he seemed breathless when he saw me last night!"

I chuckled and nodded my head as I took a sip of my tea. "I have no doubt in my mind about that, Cress."

"Mama says not to worry about what Whistledown writes of the Duke... he will marry eventually," Cressida sings.

I take a sip of my tea and nod, "I do think that he will... although I don't believe that he will expect it."

"I read that you seemed to have bagged yourself the only other eligible Duke..." Cressida sat up and leaned in closer toward me, "how did you manage to do that? Last I saw you were going to get some lemonade with your brother?"

"I got swept up in the crowd of mamas trying to meet the Duke," I said simply, "he just happened to be there."

"Hm," Cressida raised her eyebrow and sat back in her chair. "Fine."

"What about you... is there anyone else that has caught your eye, other than the Duke of Hastings," I ask, looking back over at her with a raised brow.

"Well, I've talked to Lord Wetherby at yesterday's ball... he seems nice," Cressida says, "but mama- along with I- would much rather see if I can marry a Duke or someone of higher status if I can..."

"Well, at least you have someone that you can fall back on if need be," I say, smiling over at her.

"Yes, I suppose that Lord Wetherby would be a good... second option," Cressida mused.

"See, this season is beginning to look up for us both!" I exclaim happily, "oh! Could you imagine, Cress? If you both got married this season?"

"That would be the most ideal scenario... married on our first season..." Cressida whispered, "mama would be delighted for me."

"Well then, you must continue to search for your match if we are both to be wed this season! Oh, I must be getting home... but I shall see you tomorrow!" I say, standing up and pulling her in for a quick hug, "Goodbye, Cress!"

"Goodbye, Flore!" Cressida called out after me, "see you tomorrow!"

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-T