Unexpected Love || Anthony Bridgerton

nine

Lucille frowned, "Why?"

Marianne shrugged, "Our mother and father were kind people. The Featherington's. . ." She raised an eyebrow and her sister managed to figure the rest out herself.

"I see." She muttered.

However, before the conversation could continue, they were interrupted by the grand entrance of the Queen escorted by Prince Friedrich.

Lucille was practically giddy with excitement. But as always followed her sister's words and stayed back in order to let the Prince navigate through the flock of hens in order to find his swan.

"Oh, doesn't he simply look chasing in blue." Lucille sighed dreamily, "I do believe blue is my new favourite colour."

Marianne chuckled.

Eventually the prince's eyes locked with Lucille's and like a stunned moth to a flame he began to make his way over. . . That is until Cressida Cowper blocked his path.

Marianne felt her sister go rigid beside her, "What is her problem with me and the Prince?" She hissed, "Why can't she let us be happy together?"

"Jealousy, my dear sister." Marianne muttered, although she knew the overbearing mama peering over Cressida's shoulder certainly had something to do with it.

Eventually it seemed Prince Friedrich managed to find his way out, excusing himself from the conversation with a bow of his head. Cressida and Lady Cowper looked like they were sucking sour lemons at the way the Prince had disregarded them so easily for the evening's pearl.

"Miss Dawson." Prince Friedrich greeted, placing a kiss on Lucille's hand, "You look simply radiant this evening. And I see you've taken a liking to my gift."

He looked at the necklace that fit perfectly around her neck, she blushed, "I adore it, my Prince. Although I must say it is nothing compared to the pleasure of your company."

It seemed it was the prince's turn to blush.

Seeing as the two most likely desired some time to themselves, Marianne quietly excused herself from the conversation and took a turn about the room.

Seeing all the blushing debutantes and critical gentlemen reminded her of her first season, back when she was younger and more innocent. She remembered taking a liking to purple thanks to their family's classic lilac and rose colours, her dresses ranging from plum and lavender to the most radiant violet.

After she married August she quickly found she was no longer permitted to gowns of her choice, and was instead stuffed into puffy green dresses of the Wentworth household that made her feel like a mouldy lime.

She repressed a shiver at the memories of her old life and swiped a champagne flute from a waiter passing by. She nearly downed the whole glass in a single gulp.

"I do hope it is not my presence that has prompted that."

Marianne was glad to have had the voice appear only after she'd swallowed her champagne, knowing she likely would have chocked on it in surprise. She turned to find Anthony stood behind her, hands clasped firmly behind his back. The same hands that had glided up her arm only the day before. . .

She swallowed thickly, "Anthony."

"Marianne."

Their eyes locked for a moment, and Marianne felt a churn in her stomach that was greatly unwanted. . . and yet not entirely unwelcome.

Anthony held out his gloved hand. It took Marianne blinking several times to realise he was asking for a dance.

She hesitated, clearing her throat as she turned and placed her empty glass on a waiter's tray, "I'm not sure that's the best idea, my Lord."