Dearest gentle reader, it is often said that those who marry in haste must repent at leisure, a sentiment that is clearly shared by Miss Daphne Bridgerton, who has apparently rejected not one, not two, but three proposals already this week. Some believe she is showing admirable forethought in her deliberations, but I would venture a different conjecture, that she, like this author, is still waiting on the only suitor of note.
The same seems to be said for a certain young Miss Lucille Dawson, who has already turned down five proposals since her first debut ball. Is there another suitor the season's pearl is waiting on? Or is there to be a new love found right around the corner?
"Apparently they say a prince is to arrive in London." Lucille informed her sister as the stood to the side at another ball of the season.
Marianne was drawn out of her deep thoughts of a certain viscount at this remark, "Is there indeed? I wonder what business he has here."
Lucille grinned, "They say that his royal highness is on the search for a new young miss." She played with the hem of her glove nervously, "I wonder what he's like."
"Well, let us hope he is a kind young gentlemen. Not prone to using his title to get what he wants." Marianne spoke, praying that perhaps the prince would be as kind as her sister.
Lucille nodded firmly, "Yes, I hope so too. Title isn't everything you know."
Marianne smiled proudly, "I see I have taught you well." She spoke making her sister giggle.
"I wonder, where is William?" Lucille suddenly spoke, looking around for their brother.
Marianne sighed, "Probably off somewhere romancing Prudence Featherington." However the sisters didn't have enough time to discuss more of the subject when music announced their royal arrival.
The queen and the prince entered, and like a flock of desperate swans, young debutantes swarmed them. Lucille stood on her toes to catch a clearer glimpse of the prince, "Well, he does seem rather handsome." She told her sister.
Marianne nodded, "Courteous too." She witnessed the way he would bow and smile politely to each young lady as he passed.
Cressida Cowper seemed intent on capturing his interest as she practically shoved her way into his eye-line. He gave her a polite nod as she curtseyed flirtatiously, although it didn't exactly seem to sway his royal highness.
Lucille seemed rather anticipated, "Can you introduce me, Mari?" She asked quietly.
Her sister only smiled, noticing the way the queen seemed to glance to Lucille every now and again, as if wanting the prince to arrive to where the sisters stood.
"Do not fret, sister." She told her calmly, "Let him come to you."
Eventually the queen and the prince came to a stop before them. The queen beamed, "Prince Freidrich, this is the young lady I was telling you about. The pearl of the season."
Lucille blushed at the introduction, curtseying gracefully before the prince. Marianne subtly smiled at the way the prince seemed almost starstruck by her sister's beauty.
"So, lovely to meet you, Miss Dawson." He spoke to her, bowing before her, "Your gown is simply beautiful, much like the one who wears it."
A rosy blush arose to Lucille's cheeks, "Thank you, your highness. How are you enjoying London so far?"
Freidrich smiled, "I am finding the city most pleasant. I have always loved to travel, and meet new people along the way."
"That sounds awfully exciting." Lucille told him, "I must say I myself am more inclined to the country." She admitted.
"As am I." Freidrich spoke, almost surprised at how much they had in common, "I have many estates situated in the most beautiful sceneries. You would be most welcome to see them one day for yourself."
Lucille's cheeks were burning bright pink at that moment, "It would be the greatest honour, your highness."
The queen and Marianne grinned at the interaction, obviously happy with the two's rather quickly connection already. Freidrich had then reluctantly left to allow his aunt to introduce him to more debutantes, despite both their minds already set.
Lucille turned to Marianne with a giddy smile, "Sister! Did you just see that?"
"Indeed I did." Marianne remarked as Lucille sighed dreamily, clutching her sister's arm as they took a turn about the room.
"I have not met one young gentleman so far that has made me feel so. . ." She struggled to find the right word.
"Charmed?" Marianne questioned.
"Yes! But it was also more than that." Lucille told her, "It was like a connection, one I cannot seem to explain. And not just because he is a prince. But because he was everything I desire and more." She sighed.
Marianne chuckled, "Well, do not get ahead of yourself, you have only spoke once."
Lucille smiled sheepishly, "I know. But what if Cressida sinks her claws into him before I can do so much as look his way again?"
Marianne gave her sister a look, "Lucille, I saw the way he looked at Cressida and I saw the way he looked at you. There is no denying he is already smitten for my little sister."
Lucille giggled in delight as the sisters walked together. Who would've thought? Lucille Dawson a future princess.
I have always thought that an appreciation of the arts is what lifts us beyond mere animals. It stirs the passions and moves the spirit, and, this author hopes, inspires more newsworthy pursuits. A new wing at Somerset House is to be opened today, where several attractions will be on display. . . like the lovely Miss Marina Thompson, newly recovered from her mysterious illness and expected to finally rejoin the season.
Of course, there is today's royal attraction as well, Prince Friedrich of Prussia. His Highness has come to our shores in want of a fine Fräulein. Could this be the reason a certain language tutor has been seen visiting Cowper House all week?
Marianne smiled in wonderment as she and her family entered Somerset house. The paintings lined the golden tinted room, alighting it like a shimmer of the sun. Marianne had always been a bit of an admirer of art, so she decided that going to the exhibition would not be the worst thing after all.
Although for her brother and sister, things did not get off to a wonderful start.
With the arrival of the prince, doting mamas and desperate debutantes had swarmed the young royal, not giving Lucille so much as a chance to even see him. And her spirits were instantly crushed when Cressida had practically trampled every other young lady gathered in order to get to him. But Lucille did not know that whilst the prince did in fact acknowledge the young ladies before him, he was quite crestfallen when his eyes couldn't seem to find a certain blonde amongst the crowd.
It also hadn't worked in the favour of William either. Portia Featherington had immediately swept her daughters away in order to force them into greeting the prince. William was tempted to step forward but was held back by Marianne, who didn't want to cause a scene.
Prudence had attempted to make her way to him, but her mother barely acknowledged her obvious wants and steered her in the other direction. Prudence obviously unhappy as she plastered on a smile and curtseyed to the prince politely.
Marianne was worried her brother would explode from his jealous rage as his fists clenched at his sides.
Fortunately, the young widow had managed to tug her lovesick siblings along to the gallery before they could start any drama. Although she had to practically shove Thomas into William's arms in order to cheer him up.
After a while of looking around at different artworks and entertaining the children — which included Thomas running off in order to look at paintings with Benedict — William had finally found a moment where Lady Featherington had left Prudence alone and immediately made his way towards her.
Marianne turned and saw the way Prudence's face flooded with relief when she noticed William. She curtseyed to him before he offered an arm. The widow smiled when she saw her brother and the redhead begin to walk about the room together. She could swear she had never seen her brother smile so much than he did when in the Featherington's company.
She then turned her attention to Lucille who was looking around for the Prince, "You will find him soon enough." Marianne assured her.
Lucille sighed, "I hope so. Unless he's already smitten with Miss Cowper." She spoke the name mockingly making her sister chuckle.
"Well, I know for a fact he is not." Marianne stated, concealing a grin.
Lucille wrinkled her nose in confusion, "And how do you know that?"
Marianne leant in and whispered, "Because he's coming right this way."
Lucille's eyes widened as she spun, finding the Prince step towards her with a smile. He bowed as Lucille blushed, "Miss Dawson, I had been hoping to see you today."
Lucille's cheeks turned a subtle pink, "You have?" She asked a little giddily. She turned to look to Marianne only to find her sister had disappeared from where she previously stood. She gulped as she turned back to the Prince.
Freidrich nodded, "I enjoyed your company yesterday, and was wondering if you'd do me the honour of spending the exhibit telling me more about yourself."
Lucille smiled delightedly, "I would like that very much, your highness."
Marianne had disappeared into a more empty room. She had decided to give her sister and the Prince some time to get to know each other, so had quickly made her leave before he had reached them.
She bounced Alice in her hip as her daughter babbled and reached out to a portrait of a bowl of fruit.
"Yes, I know, darling. But that fruit isn't real." She chuckled as Alice simply made some baby noises as a reply. Until a new voice joined the conversation.
"Yes, I do not believe letting your child eat a painting would be very excellent parenting skills." Anthony spoke as he made his way slowly into the room.
Marianne raised an eyebrow at him, "And you would know about good parenting would you?"
Anthony shrugged nonchalantly, "Well I do have seven younger brothers and sisters." He pointed out.
"Ah, but that is not the same as actual parenthood, I'm afraid." Marianne told him.
The viscount tilted his head with a fond smile, "I suppose it is not." She chuckled slightly and their eyes were once again stuck on one another.
Anthony felt as if he could get lost in her eyes forever. He noticed in certain lightings the colour of her irises would change. The day of the picnic they were illuminated in an ocean blue, but at the ball they seemed a lot more green. In this moment, he noticed both. The middle that surrounded her pupil was a beautiful blue, outlined by a large amount of green. Her eyes were almost as confusing as the woman as a person. He found it almost amusing just how symbolic her eyes could be when in reference to the marchioness.
Marianne saw Anthony's eyes as a deep, warm brown. Although previously thought to be dark and cold, she could now see a slight comfort in them like melted chocolate on a summers day.
However, their trance was broken by a fussy little baby who had turned her attention from the fruit painting and had began to make grabby hands towards Anthony.
"Oh." Marianne laughed as she adjusted Alice in her arms a little, "No, no, sweetheart."
"I do not mind." Anthony quickly stepped forward, "If you wish for me to hold her." He clarified.
Marianne looked at him, "I do not wish to make you uncomfortable, my Lord."
"Nonsense." He waved her off, "And I believe I asked you to call me Anthony." He reminded her, his eyes turning soft under her gaze.
Marianne sighed before sending him a small smile. She gently eased her wriggly daughter into the viscount's arms, who began to sway her slightly.
"Hello, Lady Alice." He greeted as the child stared at him with piercing blue eyes, "My, my, your have your mothers frightening glare already." He teased. Marianne shook her head and narrowed her eyes as he tickled Alice's belly, the baby giggling in delight.
Anthony looked up and saw the marchioness shake her head with a small smile before turning back to admire the artwork in the room.
"You like art?" Anthony asked as he followed her, eyes being drawn to the current works Marianne was looking at.
The young lady nodded, "I always found it rather beautiful. How paint on a canvas can portray an entire story, emotion, or ideal through a simple picture." Anthony hummed as he came to stand beside her. She looked at him, "And what about you?"
He turned to her, "What of me?"
"Do you like art as well?" She clarified, turning his own question around on him.
Anthony simply shook his head, "No, I'm afraid that's more Benedict's area of interest rather than mine."
Marianne gave the viscount a curious look, "Then what are you doing in here?"
Anthony seemed to look around for a moment before leaning in slightly, "I'm hiding." He murmured quietly.
Marianne let out a small laugh, "Hiding?" He nodded, "Well, whoever from?"
"My mother." He grumbled as Alice began tugging at the lapels of his jacket.
"Whatever has your mother done?" Marianne inquired curiously.
Anthony sighed, "She's trying to find me a wife." The marchioness pursed her lips to prevent a burst of laughter at the terror in her companion's eyes.
Marianne gasped sarcastically, "Oh, how dare she."
Anthony nodded, "Exactly." He said as Marianne laughed.
"Well, what young ladies did she propose?" She asked, curiously, wondering what kind of matches Violet had in mind for her impossible son.
Anthony thought back, "Miss Anna Vaughn and a Miss Mary Egglesfield." He recalled.
Marianne furrowed her brows for a moment. She turned to him, "Well, I cannot think of anything wrong with those young ladies."
Anthony sighed, "It is not that there is anything wrong with them. I simply do not wished to be pressured into a marriage just yet." He admitted.
"I thought you were considering marriage." Marianne spoke in confusion as she thought back to the day of the picnic, "You said if you found the right young lady. . ."
"And I believe I have not." He spoke, effectively cutting her off, "Not one that would wish to marry me, anyway." He said a little quietly.
Marianne looked at him in puzzlement, "You are the Viscount Bridgerton." She pointed out, "What young lady would turn down you?"
He turned to look at her. All was silent for a moment as the words got stuck in his throat, too lost within her enchanting eyes. But thankfully, before Marianne could catch on, a commotion in the other room snapped their attention elsewhere.
Marianne's brow furrowed as she went to check what was happening. Whereas Anthony took a pause and a deep breath before following after her.
"What has happened?" Marianne asked as her and Anthony appeared amongst all the commotion.
"Cressida swooned." Philipa informed her.
"And Prince Freidrich caught her." Prudence carried on, she scoffed, "An obvious bid for his attention."
Philipa explained further, "She's hated the way he's spent all afternoon with Lucille."
Marianne rolled her eyes, "Of course she has."
Cressida was obviously threatened by Lucille and her already blossoming romance with the Prince. Her and that meddling mama of hers had probably waited for the perfect moment for Cressida to feign dizziness and fall right into the prince's arms. And being the gentlemen he was, Freidrich would help her rather than leave her to fend for herself.
Lucille stood, watching from the sidelines, but didn't seem all that pressed. Especially seeing as Freidrich still couldn't seem to draw his eyes away from her, even when otherwise occupied.
"Might I say it's the most romantic thing I've ever seen." Philipa told Marianne as she stared at them longingly.
"Dare I day, he really seems to be falling for your sister." Prudence sighed as she rested her cheek against William's shoulder, who turned the shade of a tomato at the action.
"I must say, Cressida seems rather threatened by your sister and her attachment to the Prince?" Anthony leant towards Marianne, speaking quietly as he still held Alice in his arms.
Marianne shrugged, "I would agree. It seems desperation is not a good colour on her." She muttered making Anthony chuckle.
"I believe the regular sneer suits her far better." Anthony agreed making Marianne hold a hand over her mouth to conceal her laughter.
These days, the modern young lady must display a miscellany of talents in her quest for a suitor. She must be a witty conversationalist, an accomplished musician, and an expert in the art of the swoon. For managing to faint with nary a petticoat out of place is a most coveted talent indeed. Of course, not everyone is a fallen victim to this particular talent of young ladies across London Town. Especially when it seems that the heart of the crown has already been spoken for by a particular young pearl. And dare I say, dear reader, that it seems a very coveted match indeed.
———