by-blows//bridgerton oc

three

I sit with Daphne as she changes dresses. She has just returned from a ride with Anthony.

"Lady Whistledown has all but declared me ineligible... worthy of the affection of a detestable simpleton and no one else. Tell me, what others should ever want such damaged goods now?" Daphne asks.

"Daph, You speak as if Lady Whistledown were to be held in higher regard than Her Majesty the Queen herself. You give far too much credit to some anonymous scribbler," I tell her.

"Easy for you to say. Lady Whistledown has had nothing but niceties to say about you," Daphne tells me.

I scoff. "She mentioned me once. And it was to say the blue color of my dress was divine."

I have to hold back a smile. "And anyway these musings, they're not true."

"Only they are true, Juliette, and they are true because of Anthony. He has managed to scare every worthy suitor away. Whistledown has merely reported it," Daphne insists.

"I'm sure he just desires to protect you. It is his duty after all," I remind her. "And if our brother takes anything seriously it is his duties."

"And what of my duty? Our entire lives are reduced to a single moment. This is all we have been raised for. This... is all I am. I have no other value. If I am unable to find a husband, I shall be worthless," Daphne tells me.

"Daphne, you're a Bridgerton," I remind her.

"It would be easier if I were not," Daphne insists.

I sigh. "And it would be easier were I not. But we cannot change the families we come from. But you and me, Daphne, we are not children anymore. We will figure this all out. Together."

Daphne forces a smile. "Enough about me. What of you, Juliette?"

"What of me?" I question.

"Have any gentlemen caught your eye?"

I smile slightly.

"One has!" Daphne shouts. "Who?"

"You cannot tell," I insist.

"Why not?" Daphne questions.

"It is a friend of Benedict's," I explain. "Lord Weston Reeves."

"Is he handsome?" Daphne questions.

I nod my head. "Very."

"Does he come from a good family?" Daphne questions.

"He is the second son of a duke," I inform her. "I very much hope he asks me to dance at the next ball."

Daphne smiles. "I hope so too."

Ambitious mamas rejoice, for the new Duke of Hastings continues to grace our fair city with his presence. And, oh, what an impressive presence it is! It should be noted that the duke has been overheard announcing to mamas everywhere that he has no plans of ever marrying. This author wonders which brazen matchmaker shall rise to such a challenge, for this competition is well underway.

It has reached my ears that Mr. Colin Bridgerton shall be awarded the year's grand prize when he sweeps Miss Thompson off her pretty little slippered feet. In other news, a most peculiar suitor for Miss Daphne Bridgerton has emerged.

I sit with Benedict as he sketches in his book. Of course he will not let me see any of them. He never does.

"West was asking about you," Benedict tells me.

I can feel myself blush. "He was?"

Benedict smiles as he nods his head. "Spent almost the whole night at White's asking about you."