All throughout the offseason, Eleanora was jittery about the upcoming social season where she would debut herself into society. Anything could happen. She could find a husband, or be shunned by the ton for her age and previous marriage history.
She could feel Madame Delacroix's measuring tape circle her waist, her shoulders being measured, every body part being measured; but her debut preparation felt almost fictional. Eleanora faced the mirror, looking into her reflection blankly while on the platform, as Delacroix circled around her to make sure her measurements were up to date and nothing was out of place.
Meanwhile, Violet stood beside her, gazing happily at Eleanora, possibly the only person actively looking forward to Eleanora's season. Eloise was near the back of the measuring room, arms crossed, and occasionally groaning to make vocal how she would rather be anywhere else than in the Modiste; for she too, would get her measurements updated and, as an addition, get her hems lengthened for her debut.
Eleanora could not help but think back to what Anthony said the day Colin left for his travels. He too will be looking to marry this coming season - except he was not in search of love. Eleanora's intentions were quite the opposite, but she was not as confident in her goal as Anthony was in his.
"And what colors were you hoping to have your gowns in, ma chérie?" Madame Delacroix asked, snapping Eleanora deep from her thoughts of Anthony.
Eleanora turned to the designer, eyes full of determination (something that Eleanora had rarely felt before). "Emerald," she emphasized.
She was not confident about the outcome of the social season, but she was confident about one thing: she looked damn good in a deep green. Only, she hadn't focused on that color for her wardrobe in the past, because why should she? She had not been looking to impress anyone at the time.
"Ah, how très parfaite! Very excellent choice," Delacroix praised, beaming her smile at Eleanora and the Bridgerton ladies.
She left the room, returning back with samples of fabric of infinitely different shades of emerald. Eleanora picked a few, finally smiling for the first time in the past few months.
"You will look stunning, my dear," Violet beamed, rubbing Eleanora's arm assuringly.
"Not only that, she will catch the eye of every suitor in the ton," Delacroix chimed in, giving a quick wink to the women.
With a satisfied sigh and a positive turn to her day, Eleanora stepped off the platform, gesturing for Eloise to have her turn. "I believe it is now time for the potential diamond to make her way to get her hems lengthened," Eleanora said teasingly. Eloise rolled her eyes, unable to hold back a smirk.
As Eleanora stood beside Violet, she couldn't help but glance at her, and how grateful she was that Violet had been such a caring figure for the last year or so. She somewhat reminded Eleanora of her own mama, which made her evermore closer with the viscountess. She missed her mama dearly, and loved Violet Bridgerton like family. Living with the Bridgertons, she is certain they feel the same about her.
~~~
Eleanora, Eloise, and Violet returned from the Modiste and busied themselves around the house, while Eleanora glued herself to a chair in the drawing room, working on her needlework.
Anthony entered, barely batting an eye at the trio of women that morning because they were in such a rush to run their errands. He was also busy in his own way preparing for the season. It was something he felt would complete his preparation: a simple shave and haircut from his barber.
The floor creaked under Anthony's steps, making Eleanora look up at the source of the sound. "Oh, great heavens," she said flatly, narrowing her eyes at his face and the change in appearance. "Have your sideburns run off to join the circus?" After a moment, Eleanora looked down, attempting to hide a chuckle from her own joke.
"I am happy you find my change in appearance so pleasing," Anthony said, matching her flat tone. He took a seat across from her.
"It's not that," Eleanora said through stifling chuckles and a hand over her mouth. "It's just . . . different."
She did not want to admit to Anthony nor herself how much more attractive he looked with his improved appearance. The sideburns softened his features, the hair was too long and messy; but now, his jaws were accentuated and looked sharper, his hair was neater-
"How was the Modiste?" Anthony said, interrupting Eleanora's thoughts.
"Just fine," she said in a short manner, suddenly paranoid that the viscount could read her mind and analyze every thought passing her head that very second. "I finally have a consistent color for my wardrobe."
"And what color would that be?"
Eleanora smirked at Anthony. "You'll have to wait and see at the first ball."
"Speaking of," Anthony said, sitting up, "Will I be seeing you on the dance floor? I'd be enthralled to a have a dance with the most bitter woman in London."
Eleanora rolled her eyes at the statement, focusing back to her needlework. "You would have to make haste in order to dance with me, because as soon as I walk through the door . . ." She snapped her fingers. "All the suitors will be surrounding me and my dance card will be filled in the blink of an eye!"
"Is that so?" Anthony said amusingly, seeing Eleanora's joking statement as a challenge.
"It is so," Eleanora answered in mock snarkiness.
After about ten minutes or so, Anthony was drinking tea that was brought to him by the staff while Eleanora continued sewing, the room in silence.
"Anthony," Eleanora finally said, setting her supplies to the side and looking up at him. "I have been thinking about this for quite awhile, and I feel like I have a weight sitting on my chest if I don't say this to you." Anthony straightened his posture, setting down his tea on his saucer. Eleanora forced herself to make eye contact with him. "I . . ."
Before Eleanora let herself speak, she could hear rustling behind her, like a scattering rat. She furrowed her eyebrows, turning around to look behind the couch.
"Gregory!" she chastised.
"How did you know I was behind you?" Gregory asked, standing up and dusting off his clothes.
"Because you're skittish like an animal and squirming too much. If you're going to eavesdrop, at least do it the right way," Eleanora said, forcing Gregory out of the room.
Anthony couldn't help but smirk at the somewhat wholesome interaction between his younger brother and dear friend.
"Now," Eleanora sighed. "Must I check the fireplace in case Benedict is hiding in there too, as if he were Santa Claus?"
Anthony laughed, before wanting to return back to the original subject at hand. "What was it you wanted to get off your chest, Nora? I am all ears."
"Erm, well . . ." Eleanora began fidgeting with her fingers, focusing her gaze on them. "Remember when I was married, and I never wrote to you?"
Anthony's relaxation turned to strict tension. He hated remembering Eleanora cutting him off the face of the Earth, and what could she say to change that? Eleanora took note of how his demeanor changed, being more hesitant.
"I never fully explained. It wasn't that I didn't want to write to you. It was that I couldn't," she confessed. "Jerome refused of me writing to you, for whatever reason it was. He refused of me to write to any of you! Every time he caught me writing a letter to you, he would become furious, burning the paper and throwing away my writing supplies. Sometimes I felt like I wanted to give my life in exchange of writing to you, but I merely had not been capable of writing."
Eleanora sighed again, this time from what felt like a physical weight being lifted off her chest and shoulders - really, from her whole body.
Anthony's posture loosened, absorbing what he was just told. Eleanora had no reason to lie to him, plus Anthony remembered when Eleanora told him of Jerome forcing her to agree to the investments. Who knows how else Jerome had controlled every aspect of Eleanora's life. "I see," was all he managed to say.
"I never meant to make you angry, really," Eleanora said, her eyes watering, and the viscount nodded in understanding.
Anthony couldn't help but want to wrap his arms around the woman, to protect her from any and every threat from her with his whole being.
~~~
Not in the history of mankind, has a family ever been so obsessed with a door. Or what was behind the door, anyway, until came the Bridgertons. It was the day of Eloise's debut to the queen, and everyone else was crowding around her closed bedroom door, arguing over who should check on Eloise first. After all, she was in there for a concerningly long time.
Eloise's opinions on her mandatory debut were nothing new, and Eleanora's thoughts went to the extremes: maybe Eloise snuck out of her window and stole one of the horses from the stables to flee her wretched situation.
"Let her come out on her own!" Violet insisted, earning disagreeing reactions from everyone else.
"Is this the plan?" Daphne said, emerging from the other side of the hallway, looking at her siblings as if they were lunatics.
"Thank heavens you're here, Daphne," Eleanora said with relief.
"She's requested time," Anthony explained to his sister.
"We do not have time," Daphne pointed out. "Stand back."
She advanced towards the door before being stopped by Benedict. "No offense, Sister, but you are the last person she would like to see," he confessed.
"And what does that mean?"
"Are we sure she's even in there?" Hyacinth asked, cutting off what could have become an argument between Daphne and Benedict.
"My money's on she's fled on one of the horses," Eleanora chimed in, putting her theory to light.
"Of course she's in there," Francesca said matter-of-factly.
"Where else would she be?" Gregory pointed out.
"Or climbed through a window, escaped through the chimney," Benedict added, gesturing to Eleanora.
"Now we're talking!" she beamed.
"Quiet, she may hear you," Violet cut off.
"You do realize I left my child and husband at home for this?" Daphne stated.
"Well then maybe you should have brought them along," Eleanora retorted.
"I told everyone this would happen, now we're late for the queen," Anthony said.
"Well congratulations, Anthony, once again, you were right-"
Frasesca shushed Eleanora, putting up a hand so no one would move a muscle. "I hear something." It was quiet except for what sounded like crying from the other side of the door.
That couldn't have been Eloise, could it? Surely not.
Anthony groaned in frustration, his hand inching closer to the doorknob before it opened from the other side. In a single file, each of Eloise's maids exited the room in a defeated state, and Eleanora identified the one that had been crying. The Bridgertons stayed frozen in place, waiting for Eloise to come into view. Eleanora had to hold in a gasp at the sight of the feather headpiece, cream colored gown and gloves on Eloise. The outfit itself made her look infinitely more mature, consistent with the advanced age of her mind.
"If one of you utters a single word," Eloise threatened, raising a finger at the staring figures. The train of her gown already frustrating her, she exited the room, saying bitterly, "Let us get this over with."
~~~
"Just remember to remain composed, and control your emotions. Her Majesty does not take kindly to any hints of hysterics," Daphne reminded, as Eloise say opposite of her in the carriage. The duchess, Francesca, and Hyacinth were sitting on one side, while Violet, Eleanora, and Eloise were on the other. Eloise, full of paranoia, could barely stay still in her seat and occasionally clawed at the walls of inside the carriage, feeling like a helplessly trapped mouse. Seeing that her younger sister was still hysteric even after her assurance, Daphne continued, "I found a small smile worked best to appear open and approachable, but not too eager."
Eleanora wholeheartedly agreed, thinking back to when she helped Daphne for her debut. Though this time, while Eleanora was helping Eloise, the sister was not as open to practicing.
"Go on, let us see it," Eleanora gently insisted.
"See what?" Eloise asked curtly.
"The smile." Eleanora pointed to her own face, raising the edges of her mouth for Eloise to mimic.
"No," Eloise refused, glaring at Eleanora.
"She is practically melting!" Hyacinth commented.
"Allow me," Fransesca said, taking the fan from Hyacinth and began fanning Eloise.
"And your cursty, dearest, tell your sister how you managed such balance," Violet prompted Daphne, trying to keep her chipper tone even though it was obvious no amount of reassurance would help.
Eleanora decided she too felt a little warm, taking out her own fan and began fanning herself.
"Simply locate a stationary object and keep your eyes set; curtsy as if you are to touch the floor with your knees, but not quite there," Daphne explained, turning to Eleanora. "She helped me with the cursty."
Eleanora took note of how Eloise began hyperventilating, trying to find something to say to calm her nerves. "You have wonderful gifts, Eloise-"
"Do not patronize me!" she snapped, waving a finger at Eleanora, making her roll her eyes once more.
Without another thought, Eloise snatched Francesca's and Eleanora's fans and frantically began fanning herself with both of them, one in each hand.
~~~
"My task this season cannot be exceptionally difficult. Hastings did it, after all. How hard can it be?" Anthony said nonchalantly, the tone of the men's carriage a polarizing difference to that of the chaotic ladies' carriage.
"Spoken with such feeling too," Benedict remarked to Gregory, faking an emotional tone and quirking out his lower lip to Anthony.
"I do not need feeling. What I need is what I have, and that is a list: tolerable, dutiful, suitable enough hips for childbearing, and at least half a brain," Anthony said, reciting his memorization of his list of requirements for a potential wife. "And that last part is not so much a requirement but a preference, in fact."
Benedict laughed. "You know what Nora will think of this, don't you?"
Anthony looked at his brother quizzically. "What difference does it make what Nora thinks?"
"She is going to tell you how stupid your list is, knowing her. Besides, doesn't she fit all those requirements you just listed? Minus the suitable hips part, I would know nothing about that."
The viscount scoffed. "She is a dear friend of the family, and a dear and close friend of mine. And I only adore and love her as that: a friend."
Benedict refrained from wanting to point out the fact that Anthony became more distant since Eleanora's engagement to Russell before their reunion, and also refrained asking his brother why.
~~~
One by one, each new debut presented herself to the Queen in the throne room, which felt like deja vu to Eleanora. Once again, she quietly panicked in thought of Eloise, and Anthony reassured her, holding her hand tightly, a repeat from Daphne's debut. Anthony could not help but push what Benedict said in the carriage to the back of his mind. What would Benedict know about his relationship with Eleanora?
As each young lady debuted herself, Eleanora noticed how bored and unimpressed the Queen looked from her throne. She had yet to name the diamond of the season.
After twenty minutes or so, Eleanora felt relaxed enough to let go of Anthony's hand, that was, until the caller announced, "The dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, and Miss Eloise."
"Pinch me, Anthony," Eleanora whispered, grasping his hand again. "I believe I am dreaming. I cannot handle this overwhelming feeling."
The double doors opened, revealing a stage frightened Eloise, her eyes frozen on the Queen, and Violet beside her. The debuting sister took a step forward, making the floor creak loudly, given the silence of the rest of the room. The Queen grimaced at Eloise's frantic breathing.
Thinking quickly, Eleanora whispered to Eloise from the side, "Smile."
Before Eloise could take another step, one of Her Majesty's staff members entered through the door by the Queen's throne, a pamphlet on a silver platter in his hand. All eyes in the room turned to the man, and Eleanora was grateful all attention was off of Eloise, even just for a second.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Queen demanded as the staffmember with the silver platter approached her throne. Her Majesty took the pamphlet, smiling down at it joyfully. She looked up at everyone. "I've seen enough," she announced, excitedly getting off her throne and exiting the room, one of her ladies in waiting carrying the train of her gown.
Meanwhile, Eloise joyfully turned on her heel and exited the room through the double doors. "Eloise!" Daphne hissed, wanting to follow after her. Violet gave a small smile to everyone before following after her daughter.
Eleanora looked around the room as more pamphlets on silver platters were being handed out, and she realized she had taken for granted the silence of the off-season.
Lady Whistledown had returned.
"Truly, I cannot say I will long for any of this," Daphne said to Anthony and Eleanora, referring to the inevitable gossip from the pamphlets. "Best of luck to you two. You shall certainly need it this season."
Anthony turned to Eleanora, and she returned the look. In that moment, they both had the simultaneous realization that they were no longer out of reach of Whistledown, for every movement they made, every breath they took, would be recorded and emphasized. Every careful interaction, every promenade, every dance, every stolen glance. Everything.
~~~
Dearest gentle reader,
Did you miss me? As the members of our esteemed ton lazily sojourned in their rustic retreats, this author was doing but one thing: honing my skills. Or should I say: hatching my plans? No, even better: I was sharpening my knives for all of you. Questions abound as to this author's identity and means; seeking those answers shall prove fruitless, indeed. There is, of course, another unknown identity at present, though, this one you will be able to unearth. I speak of the season's diamond, wherever she may be. Your move, Your Majesty.
Onto more pressing matters. For example, Miss Eleanora Fitzwilliam will be making her debut into the social season, hoping to find her love match. Who knows how easy it will be for Miss Fitzwilliam, seeing as she has caught a case of 'the spinster' at her embarrassingly old age of eight and twenty.
Seeing as she was not able to give her late husband a child, how likely will she be able to provide one for her future husband?
For those that do not recall, she and her late parents were in charge of the Bridgertons' equestrians, becoming fondly close to the family - specifically the eldest son: Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. When she became of age, Miss Fitzwilliam married to the late Lord Jerome Russell - notice a theme of everyone associated with Eleanora being referred to as 'late'? For unknown reasons, she was married to him hastily, not once being with child in their marriage, before Lord Russell bit the bullet; after ten years of boring marriage.
The beginning of last season, she began living with the Bridgertons, and now with this season, she will be acquainting herself with potential suitors. What might seem coincidence, but this author believes not, is that the Viscount Bridgerton will too be looking for a potential spouse this social season. What could erupt from these two, I certainly do not know. But fear not, gentle readers, for I will be the first to discover it.
Sincerely,
Lady Whistledown