"There is to be no wedding," Daphne tells him.

"I told you. The arrangement is canceled," Anthony reminds him.

"Lord Berbrooke, you look in a great deal of pain. Shall we continue this in a more private location?" Lady Bridgerton offers.

"I require no further conversation. Though, perhaps I am finally speaking to the true head of the Bridgerton house. For if it were you, I imagine you would have instructed your sister to take better care than to encourage certain attentions while alone with me on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall. Of course, mere hearsay of such a scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential of families. What would someone like, say, Lady Whistledown do with such unseemly information?" Berbrooke says.

"Is that a threat?" Anthony asks.

"It is certainly not. Because in three days, I am to marry. I have the diamond of the season. I have the very best the ton has to offer. I have a Bridgerton. And I shall save her, as well as your entire family, from the ruin which you could not protect them," Berbrooke says as she shoves the paper into Anthony's chest.

The Duke steps forward towards Berbrooke. Benedict is quick to hold him back.

"I look forward to the union of our great families. Bridgerton. Hastings." Berbrooke walks off in a haste.

It has come to this author's attention that the ton is abuzz with a most sordid tale. It is said one cannot judge a book by its cover. But in the case of the bumbling Baron Berbrooke, it seems his displeasing appearance is quite an apt metaphor for the state of affairs in his household. I would not be surprised if Lord Berbrooke were called away to the country on alleged business... Business which, perhaps, might involve sending some much overdue funds to one former maid and young boy, who we can only hope takes after his mother.

"Good, I've caught you before you've started to ready."

I turn around and see Daphne standing in the doorway.

"I've read Lady Whistledown's paper. Is it true?" I ask.

Daphne nods before smiling widely. "I am free of Berbrooke."

"Now you can focus all your attention on the Duke," I offer.

"And who will you be focusing your attention on?" Daphne questions.

"I have not yet decided," I tell her.

"Surely one of your callers has caught your attention," Daphne reasons.

"Daphne, they are all horrible," I confess.

"Come now. One of them must be worth giving a second thought to," Daphne reasons.

I shake my head. "No. I don't think that I will find a husband this season."

"Di, do not talk like that," Daphne tells me.

"I do not wish to settle," I state.

"And you should not," Daphne says.

"I am in no rush. I will just have to wait for my husband to come along," I state.

As every other ball this season I spend time dancing with any man that asks. I know I should pick and choose but at this point I'll accept any offer to dance. The sooner I get married the sooner I get out of the Featherington home.

I find Benedict off in a room by himself. He is planted in front of a painting studying it.

"Good evening," I greet.

"Diana," Benedict says with a smile.

"I should have known you would be looking at a painting somewhere," I tease.

Benedict looks around. "We cannot be alone together."

"We are not alone. The door is wide open for anyone to see," I assure him.

"It is risky. We must do everything to ensure your virtue remains free of any kind of defilement," Benedict tells me.

"Yes. Yes. To find me a right and proper husband," I remark.

"You could do whatever you like and instead become a spinster," Benedict offers.

I shake my head as I smile lightly. "I have to ask you something."

"Anything," Benedict tells me.

"I know of someone... with child," I tell him.

"It cannot be Lady Featherington. She is far too advanced in age. Though I suppose your uncle should still want a boy..." Benedict reasons.

I shake my head. "No it is not Aunt Featherington. It is a maid."

"Which one of your maids is married?" Benedict questions.

"She is not married," I state.

Benedict nods. "Oh."

"Which brings me to my question. How did she become with child if she is not married?" I ask.

"No. I will not tell you that," Benedict insists.

"How am I supposed to make sure it never happens to me?" I ask.

"Diana, you have not the faintest idea of how this works," Benedict states. "I can assure you a lady such as yourself has not to worry about such things."

I step closer to Benedict. If anyone were to see us this close unchaperoned the ton would be buzzing with words of my impure nature.

"Eloise asked and by the way you reacted you know. So you will tell me and you will tell me now," I insist.

"Your husband will tell you everything you need to know on your wedding night," Benedict assures me.

"The maid. She said it was love. You must think me so naive," I state.

"I think you raised right," Benedict counters. "Maybe a little too curious for your own good." I smile slightly. "I think we should head back out before people start to talk."

I nod my head. "You are probably right."

Upper Orders//Benedict BridgertonWhere stories live. Discover now