One may say modesty is a virtue, yet this author is hardly a virtuous woman. It is therefore my great pleasure to announce the news others questioned, but I never doubted. The diamond of the season has made her match, officially betrothed to the duke of Hastings.
The bride, undoubtedly, is giddy with anticipation over the impending nuptials... an event that will apparently take place sooner rather than later. Of course, there are only two reasons to procure a special license and race to the alter: true love, or concealing a scandal.
"How does it feel Sister, to be in love?" Hyacinth asked as she bounced down the stairs with the rest of the Bridgerton women, Abigail included.
"Imagine leaping off the cliff and shattering on the ground. A fair analogy?" Eloise responded for Daphne.
"I am afraid I cannot find the words dear Hyacinth." Daphne said with an air of inattention in her voice. "Though, Eloise, I do believe you will know what love feels like soon enough next season."
"You think I am to follow in your footsteps, Sister? Could there be a more dreadful fate?" Eloise clapped back.
"El." Abigail warned as the younger Bridgerton passed by her.
"You do know that I am setting the standard or your future matches, Yes? You should be grateful." Daphne snapped with some misdirected anger.
"The only thing I am grateful for is that I am not you, nor will I ever be." Eloise responded with just as much resentment in her tone.
"Alright, you two. Take a step back-- please." Abigail encouraged, and with that Eloise walked away.
"I should be off." Abby announced gathering the gloves that were laid out for her on the table as well as her coin purse. "Thank you for allowing me to stay the night, Violet." She thanked the woman with a small curtsy and wiggled her gloves on.
"Oh, darling, if you are free after tea time we'd love to see you at the Modiste. Daphne has to be fitted for her trousseau, and I'd love to order you another gown while we are there."
"Oh... Lady Bridgerton, that's very kind, but not necessary." She attempted to decline.
"For the thousandth time it's Violet, and I don't want to hear a word about that. I am buying you another gown and that's final." She said with an air of motherly command about her voice.
Abigail smiled to herself as a maid helped her into her tailored coat.
"Yes ma'am." She said softly, still reveling in the warm, safe feeling those words just brought her.
"Abby!" Daphne said as Abigail was trying to turn around.
She ran over to her friend and gave her a tight hug.
She whispered in her ear, "Thank you for everything this morning."
She then pulled back and squeezed her hand before being called away by a footman announcing a visit from the Prince. Leaving before she could become involved with that, Abigail finally turned around and made her way to the doorway.
Before she could get there, however, the doors opened and Anthony stepped through. He tried to catch her eye but she simply ducked her head down and refused to meet his gaze as she passed him out the doorway. His body turned to watch her go, and he felt a sense of longing. He knew something had changed between them, but he couldn't know the problem if she refused to even look at him.
——
"Your wedding gown is a long way from being finished Miss Bridgerton. I promise you will not be disappointed." Madame Delacroix assured her as she pinned the bottom of Daphne's Wedding dress.
Abigail smiled as she watched from her spot next to the fabrics on display. Daphne already looked stunning in the basic format of the gown. The final product would be a sight to see.
"She will need a new pelisse too, and then the more intimate items." Violet added instructions to the modiste. "Four nightdresses, perhaps? Or five?"
"What could I possibly need with five new nightdresses?" Daphne scoffed from her place in front of the mirror.
This made Abigail pause. She did know what happened on a wedding night... didn't she?
"They are not for you, ma chère, but for your amoureux." Madame Delacroix. "What else do you think a honeymoon is for?"
Did she know what a honeymoon was for? Abigail was now growing increasingly concerned.
"It will be a most special time, dear." Her mother assured her.
That was the icing on the cake, Daphne definitely had no idea what she was walking into.
"Yes, five. Five nightdresses will do nicely." Violet chuckled as she gave the final instructions.
Madame Delacroix got up and signaled she would be back in a moment when Abby heard the shop door open and close behind her. She was going to turn to see who had arrived, but in mere moments Cressida Cowper was striding passed her to approach Daphne. She was practically crooning.
"Daphne, how lovely to see you. Oh, I do hope your wedding dress will be ready in time. Madame Delacroix must be working fast." She greeted with a sickly sweet voice.
Abigail knew it wasn't proper for a young lady to feel pure hate or spite towards a person, but sometimes it seemed as if the universe liked to test her patience.
"Mama, might you spare me a moment? I must have Cressida's opinion on some fabric. Her taste is impeccable." Daphne fibbed.
"Of course, dear." Her mother responded.
Daphne walked Cressida over to where Abigail stood, next to the rolls of displayed fabric.
"I am to have a new pelisse for my honeymoon. What about this color? Trimmed with fur, perhaps."
Abigail wondered how long they would dance around the obvious before someone brought up last night's events.
"Fur at this time of year?" Cressida questioned. "Well, I suppose it depends on how much time you and the Duke spend outdoors. But you are fond of a midnight garden stroll, I believe."
And there it was.
"I do not know what you mean." Daphne said, attempting to keep a light air about their conversation.
"I am almost certain I saw the two of you in the gardens at the Trowbridge ball. No chaperone in sight." She vaguely threatened.
"How strange." Daphne responded. "I do not recall leaving the ballroom. Though I dare say it would have been difficult to see the gardens with any real clarity at night, unless you were actually out in them yourself."
"My view of the garden was perfectly clear from the safety of the terrace, Daphne." Cressida defended quickly, then swooped like a bird of prey. "You dallied with the Prince purely to rouse the Duke's jealousy, then you lured him into those gardens to trap him into marriage. I never would have imagined that a Bridgerton would ever come to know such shame."
Fed up with her demeanor, Abigail cut in.
"You should consider your words more carefully, Cressida. In a matter of days, Daphne is to be a Duchess, and you are to be just as you are now, unmarried and untitled. So you can either be a Duchess's friend or her enemy. I have chosen friend, but it is entirely up to you." She practically spit the words at her.
"Oh, you are one to talk, Abigail. I know you were with the Viscount Bridgerton that same night, in those same gardens. I only spared mentioning it because you weren't my enemy, don't make me change my mind."
At her words Daphne look towards Abigail with shock and hurt written on her face. She hadn't told her. She should have, but she had so much going on. The last thing Abigail needed to do was burden her with the complications involving her brother.
"As for you Daphne," Cressida continued. "I'd like to first see if you drag him down the aisle at all. I would imagine a man like the Duke, does not take kindly to being forced into anything."
With her final scathing words she left the two young women staring blankly in front of them, utterly scared and unsure of what to do.
(Sort of a filler chapter but I had fun writing it! Here ya go!!)