C H A P T E R N I N E
TAKE MY HAND WRECK MY PLANS
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Dearest gentle reader, I must send felicitations to the new Duke and Duchess of Hastings. Congratulations and stamina as they embark on the most exhilarating time in a young couple's life. I am, of course, talking of the honeymoon. Is there a more romantic notion? To retreat from society together... finally leaving watchful eyes behind. While this author, along with the rest of the ton, will certainly miss its most remarked upon couple back in London, perhaps we might find solace in the promise of the Duke and Duchess returning to us bearing a surprise.

Lady Whisteldown

1813

The sun hung high in the sky, casting its warm rays down upon the garden party. It was the perfect day for a picnic, and the Davison family, along with other members of the ton, had gathered for such an occasion.

Emmaline was standing, her lemonade in hand, enjoying the chatter and the gentle breeze that rustled through the trees. She was surrounded by Cornelius, Joshua, and Oliver, engaging in light conversation. The eldest of them maintained a stern expression as he glanced around, ensuring that his siblings behaved appropriately amidst the festivities.

Joshua, ever the mischievous one, noticed his sister's boredom and flashed a sly grin. "Perhaps this will make it bearable," he whispered as he pulled out a small flask inside his waistcoat.

"Oh Joshua you are a lifesaver!" Emmaline's eyes sparkled with amusement as she stifled a laugh as Joshua discreetly slips some champagne into Emmaline's lemonade much to Cornelius's disapproval.

"Joshua, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Cornelius said.

"Just ensuring Emmaline's enjoyment of the festivities, dear brother." Joshua said as he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Joshua, really! You know Father wouldn't approve of such antics." Cornelius said in a stern tone.

"Good thing father isn't here now is he," he smirked as he splashed more champagne into Emmaline's glass.

The two of them joked around while Cornelius, ever the responsible older brother, shot them both a stern look. "Must you two always be so reckless?" Cornelius scolded.

Emmaline attempted to reason with Cornelius, rolling her eyes as she argued, "Oh please. No one will notice, Cor." she exclaimed, taking a sip of her now spiked lemonade.

"Emmaline, this is hardly appropriate behavior. You need to act more responsibly." Her older brother sighed heavily.

"It's just a bit of harmless fun. There is no harm done," she explained mockingly.

"You two never cease to exasperate me." Cornelius shook his head in displeasure of their antics.

Oliver simply chuckled at the scene unfolding before him, thoroughly entertained by his siblings' antics. He had long since learned to enjoy the chaos that seemed to follow his brothers and sister wherever they went. He found himself with the task of chaperoning his older sister Augusta, who was engaged in a rather dull conversation with Lord Fife. He couldn't help but inwardly groan at the prospect, dreading every moment of it.

"How did I get roped into this?" Oliver said under his breath.

"Oh, stop sulking, Oliver. It's not as if I'm asking much of you." Augusta said.

"Of course not, Augusta." Oliver forced a smile, though his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. "Just to ensure your reputation remains intact, as always." He whispered to himself as he exchanged a knowing glance with Emmaline, who stifled a quiet laugh.

Across the lawn, Cecilia, the youngest of the bunch, stood beside her mother Eleanor who was engaging in a conversation about Emmaline's future debut to Lady Eaton and Lady Evans. She excused herself as she overheard her children's conversation. She cast a critical eye over Emmaline. "Your brother is right, Emmaline," she remarked, her tone gentle but firm. "It's time you started taking your responsibilities more seriously, especially with your debut approaching. You need to learn the proper etiquette and comportment expected of a young lady of your station" Her gaze drifted over to her daughter, concern etched in her features.

Emmaline scoffed lightly. "Responsibility? What does that even entail? Making simpering conversation and enduring waltzes? It sounds dreadfully dull, Mother. I'd rather be exploring the countryside or lost in the pages of a book," she retorted.

"Emmaline Anne Davison!" Eleanor exclaimed.

"I'm simply not cut out for all those frivolities," Emmaline protested. "I'll only embarrass myself."

"Nonsense, Emmaline. You must learn to carry yourself with grace and poise if you wish to succeed in society. If you devoted as much time to your deportment lessons as you did to writing in your journal, you might find them more enjoyable." Eleanor chided gently.

"Oh, Mother, must we always talk of such tedious matters?" she sighed dramatically, though there was a spark of mischief in her eyes.

Eleanor shook her head in disappointment at her daughter. "When are you going to understand that there are certain expectations that must be met? It's time you embraced your role as a young lady of society."

Cecilia cast a sympathetic glance towards her older sister, knowing all too well the challenges that came with navigating the complexities of high society.

Emmaline sighed, realizing that her mother was right but still resistant to the idea of conforming to society's expectations.

As she glanced around the park, she found herself drawn to the antics of Hyacinth and Gregory Bridgerton, who were running around the garden in a playful game of chase. She couldn't help but laugh as Gregory swiped Hyacinth's ribbon, his mischievous grin lighting up his face as they darted past Anthony and Benedict without a care in the world, both of them groaning and hoping their younger siblings wouldn't cause too much trouble today.

Nearby, the two older Bridgerton brothers were engaged in conversation with Miss Arabella and Miss Elizabeth. Anthony's attention, however, was soon drawn away as he caught sight of Emmaline. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as their eyes met, and she smiled back as she gave him a small wave before going back to observing her surroundings. He watched her, his gaze lingering longer than it should.

Benedict, standing beside Anthony, followed his gaze and noticed his brother's sudden change in demeanor. "Are you needed elsewhere, brother?" Benedict teased, his tone laced with amusement.

"No, of course not" Anthony took a sip of his drink. "Why do you ask?"

But Benedict persisted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Are you sure? You seem rather distracted by something, or better yet... rather by someone." He jested, nudging Anthony with a knowing grin.

Anthony rolled his eyes, but the hint of a blush betrayed his true feelings. "Hush, you," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.

But Benedict only chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched his brother's reaction. Anthony excused himself from the conversation, unable to resist the pull he felt towards Emmaline.

He made his way over to her, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached. "Emmaline," he greeted her, his voice soft and warm.

She looked up, a smile lighting up her face at the sight of him. "Anthony," she replied, her voice equally soft.

He couldn't help but notice how her body subtly shifted closer to his, and he felt a surge of warmth in his chest. "You seem unusually content today, Miss Davison," he observed, a teasing glint in his eyes as he stood by her.

Emmaline arched an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. "Do I?" She replied, "I hadn't noticed," she replied with mock innocence.

"It seems like you're actually enjoying the social event..." he countered, a smirk playing on his lips

She stayed quiet as she continued to take a sip of her drink, not meeting Anthony's eyes.

"Emmaline Davison, are you actually enjoying it?" He gasped mockingly.

"I am not!" She exclaimed with a chuckle.

Anthony chuckled, the sound sending shivers down her spine. "Oh, I think you are," he teased, his gaze lingering on her as he leant closer. "Perhaps it's the company you're keeping."

Emmaline felt her cheeks flush slightly, but she refused to back down. She returned his smile. "Well, perhaps it's the champagne talking, Joshua managed to sneak some into my drink," she quipped, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Anthony feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart in mock dismay. "Miss Davison, I never would have taken you for a careless drinker," he teased, his eyes dancing with amusement.

Emmaline laughed, the sound light and carefree. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Mr. Bridgerton," she replied, her voice tinged with playful challenge.

Anthony's smile widened, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Is that so?" He murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I beg to differ..."

For a fleeting moment, they stood in perfect harmony, their shared laughter bridging the gap between them. But their banter was soon interrupted by Cornelius, breaking the moment and forcing them to put a respectable distance between them. Anthony couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as he reluctantly tore his gaze away from Emmaline. Cornelius beckoned Anthony to join him and Benedict, pulling him away from Emmaline's side.

Anthony casted a regretful glance in Emmaline's direction, silently apologizing. Emmaline's heart is still racing from their brief encounter. She waved off Anthony's apologetic look, reassuring him that she would be fine.

Anthony nodded apologetically to Emmaline before Cornelius pulled him away from Emmaline's side as he joined him and Benedict.. As he rejoined the group, his brother Colin raised a glass in hand.

"May I have everyone's attention?" he called out, his voice carrying across the park. The guests quieted, their attention turning towards him as he spoke. "I would like to make a small but important announcement. I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife, and she has accepted."

The guests erupted into applause and congratulations as Colin and Marina exchanged smiles, their happiness evident for all to see.

Anthony turned to his mother, a quizzical expression on his face. "Did you know about this?" he inquired, his tone laced with curiosity.

Violet Bridgerton offered a strained smile, her gaze flickering momentarily to the other guests before returning to her son. "People are looking, dear," she replied softly, her words veiled with caution. "Congratulate the happy couple." She forced a smile as she made her way toward her son Colin and Marina.

Anthony's brow furrowed slightly at his mother's response, but he obediently turned his attention back to the newly engaged couple, offering his somewhat heartfelt congratulations amidst the sea of well-wishers.

Meanwhile, Joshua Davison's gaze drifted across the crowd, his attention drawn to Penelope Featherington. He couldn't help but notice the way her smile faltered ever so slightly at Colin's announcement, her eyes betraying a hint of sadness as she watched the happy couple. A pang of sympathy tugged at Joshua's heart as he observed Penelope's reaction. He longed to comfort her, to ease her sadness, but he knew that some pains ran too deep to be healed with mere words.

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Hyde Park was alive with the gentle stirrings of an early spring afternoon, the air abuzz with the pleasant hum of chatter and laughter. The gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blossoms that adorned the verdant landscape. Emmaline Davison sat on a blanket beneath the sprawling oak tree as her gaze wandered over the serene landscape before her. It's been a day since Colin announced his engagement to Miss Mariana Thompson. She brought her attention back to her book, the words dancing before her eyes as she absorbed each page.

Meanwhile, her younger sister, Cecilia, was nestled nearby, diligently working on her watercolors, her brow furrowed in concentration as she attempted to capture the elusive hues of a blooming rose. Her delicate fingers danced across the canvas with an artist's grace.

As Cecilia delicately brushed strokes of pink onto her canvas, Emmaline occasionally stole glances at her, a fond smile playing on her lips as she admired her sister's artistic talents. Despite the chaos of their lives, moments like these brought a sense of tranquility that Emmaline cherished.

"Emmaline, look!" Cecilia exclaimed, holding up her painting for inspection. "Do you think this shade of rose is too vibrant?"

Emmaline set aside her book and leaned in to examine the artwork. "Hmm, perhaps a tad lighter would give it a more delicate touch," she suggested gently.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Benedict strode towards them with a relaxed smile, his easel and painting supplies tucked under his arm.

Cecilia's eyes lit up in surprise as she turned to greet him. "Benedict! What a pleasant surprise."

Benedict chuckled as he kneeled down and embraced the two girls. "Likewise."

"What brings you here this evening?" Emmaline looked up, a bright smile gracing her features. "Enjoying the evening air, I assume?" She said with a playful grin.

Benedict nodded as he sat down on the grass beside them. "Indeed, the day was too lovely to spend indoors, so I thought I'd indulge in a bit of painting. And might I add, the company is an added bonus."

His gaze then turned to Cecilia's artwork, his curiosity piqued. "And what do we have here?" he inquired, moving closer to examine her work.

"I'm trying to capture the essence of this rose, but I can't seem to get the shade just right," she confessed, her voice tinged with frustration.

Benedict studied the painting momentarily before turning to Cecilia with a warm smile. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards her watercolors.

Cecilia nodded eagerly, her eyes bright with anticipation. "Of course," she replied.

With practiced hands, Benedict began to adjust the hues and tones of Cecilia's painting, his skillful touch transforming the rose into a thing of beauty. Cecilia watched in awe, her admiration evident in her wide-eyed gaze.

Emmaline chuckled softly at the sight, her affection for her sister and their family friend evident in her gaze. "I do believe you've found yourself a new apprentice, Benedict," she remarked with a playful grin.

Benedict laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced between the two sisters. "I would be honored to have such a talented pupil," he replied, his voice warm with sincerity.

Cecilia beamed at the praise, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. "Thank you, Benedict," she said earnestly, her gratitude evident in her voice.

"If you like, I can teach you some other techniques that might be helpful."

"Really!"

"Of course, Cecilia. In fact, would you like to join me as I set up my easel by the river? We can work on it more together." He smiled.

"Yes, please, that would be wonderful!" Cecilia's eyes sparkled with excitement as she turned to her sister for approval. "Can I, Em? Please?"

Emmaline chuckled softly as she nodded. "Of course Cecilia, Ben will be a much better companion for your artistic endeavors than I could ever be." She said truthfully as she waved her off, "Go on then. I'll be right here when you're done." She turned to Benedict with a playful grin. "Just don't let her pester you too much, Benedict. She can be quite persistent when it comes to her art."

"I promise I won't! I'll be good!"

"I'll keep that in mind, Em. But I assure you, I welcome Cecilia's enthusiasm." He laughed softly.

"Thank you, Em! Are you coming Benedict?"

"Yes, I'll meet you over there. I just need to talk with your sister real quick, okay?" He explained.

Cecilia beamed, nodding her head before she quickly gathered her art supplies, practically skipping towards the riverbank where Benedict indicated. Both Emmaline and Benedict watched fondly as she walked away, laughing softly at her excitement.

Once they were out of earshot, Emmaline turned to Benedict with a grateful smile. "Thank you for indulging her, I hope it's not too much trouble."

"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all." He smiled back, "I enjoy her company."

Emmaline sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly at Benedict's words. "Again, thank you," she murmured gratefully.

Benedict returned her smile, though his expression softened with concern. "Is everything alright, Emmaline? You seem a bit... tense."

Emmaline's smile wavered slightly as she glanced back at Cecilia, her thoughts drifting briefly to the tumultuous morning they had left behind.

Emmaline's smile faltered slightly as she glanced back towards her sister. "Besides the usual chaos and commotion, everything is fine," she replied with a forced cheerfulness. "But my father had a bit of a temper this morning with me. He was yelling at Cecilia for God knows what and I stepped in before he could do any more harm to her. I somehow managed to make it worse." She explained as she recalled the incident that morning.

Hearing her father's voice echoing through the house, plates being thrown and being shattered, Emmaline walked into the dining room. Her eyes drifted to Cecilia, and seeing her teary eyes shattered her heart. Anger consumed her and she stepped in, bringing Cecilia behind her as Emmaline and her father started to argue. He raised his voice even more, but in that moment the only thing that mattered to her was making sure Cecilia was safe. She urged her to go to her room and to cover her ears, but Cecilia didn't want to, in fear that their father would harm Emmaline. However, at last, she listened to her older sister and did what she was told. But that didn't stop Cecilia from hearing Emmaline's cries throughout the house and the shuffling noise of her body being thrown on the ground.

"I tried my best to shield it from her but I fear she is still shaken up... it's just been a rough day for her and I thought taking her out today would help distract her."

Benedict's expression softened with understanding as he listened to Emmaline's. "I see," he replied gently, concern evident in his eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that, Emmaline. But I'm glad you brought her out here. Sometimes a change of scenery can work wonders. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Emmaline shook her head, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just keep an eye on her for me, if you would. I just want her to have a moment of peace and joy amidst all the chaos at home." She said softly.

"It's admirable how you look out for Cecilia.".

"She's my baby," she said affectionately, her thoughts drifting back to their childhood together.

Memories of those early years flooded Emmaline's mind, Cecilia had been Emmaline's constant companion, her tiny hand clasped tightly in hers as they navigated the ups and downs of life together. Emmaline had been the one to care for her, to nurture her, to love her unconditionally when their own mother seemed unable to do so. It hadn't been easy, raising Cecilia practically on her own, but Emmaline wouldn't have traded those moments for anything in the world. No child should bear such a burden, but she's worth every sacrifice.

"I'll make sure she's well looked after," he promised. "Well, she certainly seems to be enjoying herself now," he remarked, glancing over at Cecilia as she settled herself by the riverbank, her enthusiasm palpable as she began to set up her painting supplies.

Emmaline followed his gaze, her heart swelling with warmth at the sight of her sister's bright smile. "Yes, she does," she said softly, a hint of pride in her voice. "Thank you for being here for her, Benedict. It means a lot to me."

Benedict smiled warmly at her. "It's my pleasure, Emmaline. Cecilia is like a little sister to me as well, you know."

"I know," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Still, I'm grateful."

Benedict's expression softened with empathy as he studied Emmaline's words. "And you? How are you holding up?" he asked gently, his concern evident in his voice.

Emmaline's face softened at his question, she managed a small weary smile. "I'll manage, I always do. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

A comfortable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of laughter and the occasional rustle of leaves. Emmaline found herself lost in thought, her mind wandering to days long past, filled with laughter and joy.

"Emmaline," Benedict began softly, breaking the silence, "if ever you need someone to talk to, I'm always here. You don't have to face your troubles alone," he said earnestly.

"I know and I really appreciate it," she said with a small smile. Benedict smiled back before he stood up and made his way toward where Cecilia was, already setting up his stuff. Emmaline watched them with a fond smile, grateful for Benedict's patient assistance.

Emmaline's attention drifted back to her book—a semi used, weathered copy of Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility." She traced her fingers over the worn pages, finding solace in the familiar words that had long been her refuge.

Lost in her own thoughts, Emmaline didn't notice the approach of another familiar figure until it was too late. A pair of strong arms encircled her from behind, sending a jolt of surprise coursing through her veins.

"Blast it, Colin!" she exclaimed, her heart pounding erratically as she whirled around to face him. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Colin Bridgerton grinned unabashedly, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. "My apologies, Emmaline. I couldn't resist the opportunity to startle you."

Emmaline scowled, swatting playfully at his arm. "You're incorrigible, Colin Bridgerton."

Colin chuckled, his laughter echoing through the park. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

Emmaline rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at her lips. Despite his penchant for mischief, she couldn't help but find Colin's presence oddly comforting.

He settled onto the grass beside her, his gaze wandering over the tranquil scene before them. "What brings you to Hyde Park today, Emmaline?"

"Needed a bit of fresh air."

"And I see Cecilia insisted on dragging poor Benedict into her artistic endeavors?"

"Precisely," she chuckled before she turned to face him.

Emmaline studied him intently, noting the heaviness that seemed to weigh upon his shoulders. "Is everything alright, Colin?"

Colin shrugged nonchalantly, but Emmaline knew him well enough to detect the strain beneath his casual facade. "I'm fine, Emmaline. Just a bit tired, that's all."

But Emmaline wasn't convinced. "Don't try to fool me, Colin. I can sense when something's amiss. What's on your mind?"

Colin hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands as he struggled to find the right words. "It's... it's about yesterday," he began haltingly. "After I announced my engagement to Miss Marina Thompson, Anthony and I had... an argument."

Emmaline's brows furrowed in concern. "What happened?"

Colin sighed heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. "He's such an arse sometimes, you know," he explained. "He accused me of being impulsive, of rushing into something I wasn't ready for."

Emmaline's heart ached for him, knowing how deeply he must have been hurt by Anthony's words. She reached out, squeezing his hand in silent solidarity. "Colin, your brother is just looking out for you. That's all he's ever done since I've known him — he just wants to protect you and all your siblings."

"Protective? More like overbearing." Colin's lips twisted in a wry smile. "I don't see how you can stand him sometimes"

Emmaline chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Because he's my friend and I just... I just know where he's coming from, that's all. And trust me when I say this, he just wants what's best for you."

"Anthony thinks I'm making a colossal mistake, that I'm too young and immature to marry."

Emmaline sighed, her gaze meeting him with unwavering honesty. "But perhaps Anthony has a point. You're still young, Colin—"

"And you're supposed to be on my side, Emmaline!" He said teasingly.

Emmaline laughed. "I'm not siding with him, Colin. Just offering a different viewpoint. You have your whole life ahead of you. There's so much more to experience before settling down. Don't rush into something you might regret."

Colin's lips twisted in a wry smile. "God, you sound just like him. It's actually nauseating." He remarked jokingly. Emmaline pushed his shoulder playfully, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"But what if this is what I want? What if Marina makes me happy?"

"If that's what you want, and it's what truly makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

Colin sighed, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his uncertainty. "I just wish... I just wish he'd support me."

Emmaline squeezed his hand reassuringly, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "He will, Colin. Anthony may give you a hard time, but he just wants what's best for you, that's all."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air between them. Colin offered her a grateful smile, his gaze softening with gratitude. "Thank you, Emmaline. For listening."

Emmaline returned his smile. "Anytime, Colin. Anytime."

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Emmaline was sitting by the window of the drawing room. In the midst of the last couple of days she hasn't gotten the chance to write to Daphne who was spendering her honeymoon with Simon both residing at Clyvedon at Hasting House. Emmaline grabbed a piece of parchment and her quill. As she dipped her quill once more into the inkwell. She paused, her mind drifting to thoughts of Daphne, imagining her amidst the grandeur of Clyvedon, surrounded by opulence and the splendor of newfound love.

"Dearest Daphne," she wrote, her pen gliding effortlessly across the page, "I hope this letter finds you well, ensconced in the bliss of wedded happiness. Oh, how I long to hear all about your adventures as the Duchess of Hastings!"

Emmaline's thoughts turned to the memories she and Daphne had shared, from their carefree days of youth to the trials and triumphs of womanhood. They had been confidantes since childhood, their bond unbreakable, even in the face of distance and time. As she penned her thoughts, Emmaline couldn't help but smile, picturing Daphne's radiant face as she read each word. The image of her friend's laughter filled her mind, a melody that brought warmth to even the coldest of days.

"And how fares the Duke?" Emmaline continued, her quill scratching gently against the paper. "Does he shower you with adoration, as a husband should? I can only imagine the love that blossoms between you, like a rose unfurling its petals to the morning sun."

The ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed to slow as Emmaline poured her heart onto the page, her thoughts swirling like leaves caught in an autumn breeze. With each stroke of the pen, she felt the distance between them melt away, replaced by the comforting embrace of their friendship.

As she reached the end of her letter, Emmaline sealed it with a drop of wax, pressing the Davison family crest into its molten surface. She held the finished missive in her hands, a tangible expression of the bond that united them across the miles.

With a final stroke of the quill, Emmaline addressed the letter to Clyvedon at Hasting House, her heart filled with hope as she entrusted her words to the hands of fate. And as she watched the ink dry upon the page, she felt a sense of peace settle over her. Once the ink was dry she handed her letter to a servant asking them if they could send it out today. Now all she had to do is wait and hope Daphne would respond soon enough.

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It has been a week since the newly wed arrived at Hasting house. The morning sun shone through the grand dining room of Clyvedon in a soft, golden glow, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floors. Daphne Bridgerton, now Duchess of Hastings, sat enjoying her breakfast. The scent of freshly brewed tea mingled with the aroma of warm pastries, filled the room.

As she sipped her tea, lost in her thoughts, a servant approached her with a letter on a silver tray. Daphne smiled warmly and thanked the servant as she reached for the letter, her fingers tracing the elegant script that adorned the envelope, recognizing Emmaline handwriting.

With a contented sigh, she broke the seal of the letter, her heart fluttering with anticipation as she unfolded the parchment. Her eyes danced across the words as she began to read the letter.

Dearest Daphne,

I hope this letter finds you well, ensconced in the bliss of wedded happiness. Oh, how I long to hear all about your adventures as the Duchess of Hastings! It feels like ages since we last caught up properly, and there is so much I've been dying to share with you. London feels strangely empty without your presence, and I find myself counting down the days until your return. How are you? How's your honeymoon? How's life as a duchess treating you so far? I can only imagine the whirlwind it must be, with all the responsibilities and expectations that come with the title.

And how is the Duke? Does he shower you with adoration, as a husband should? I can only imagine the love that blossoms between you, like a rose unfurling its petals to the morning sun.

Life at Mayfair continues much as it always has, though it lacks the sparkle of your laughter and the warmth of your companionship. Mama sends her fondest regards and insists that you must visit us as soon as you return to London. She's already planning a grand soirée in your honor, and I daresay half of the Ton will be clamoring for an invitation!

As for me, well, my Mama has been more persistent than ever about my impending debut into society since you left. I swear she's gotten worse. It's as if she's taken it upon herself to ensure I marry well and secure our family's future. Sometimes I wish I could just run away and hide from it all. Better yet I wish I could simply vanish into thin air and escape this endless parade of suitors and social gatherings. Do you think it's possible to hide away in Clyvedon with you and Simon? I promise I won't cause any trouble... well, not too much trouble, at least. But alas, duty calls, and I must abide by society's rules, whether I like it or not.

On a brighter note, my siblings and my Mama are all doing well. Cecilia has taken up painting again with Benedict's help, much to Father's dismay. Mama, of course, is as busy as ever, planning balls and soirées left and right in hopes Augusta finds a suitor. My brothers are up to no good as always. Have you heard your brother Colin is engaged? Can you believe that! Your brother Anthony has been keeping me company which I am grateful for, even though there are days he does get on my last nerves but he's the only one that's keeping me sane since you left.

But amidst all the chaos, I miss you terribly, Daphne. Your friendship has always been a source of comfort and joy to me, and I find myself longing for our conversations and laughter. I hope that we can see each other again soon. Until then, please take care of yourself and give my warmest regards to Simon. Please, do write back soon and tell me everything. I eagerly await your reply, my dearest friend.

With all my love,

Emmaline

Daphne's lips curved into a soft smile as she finished reading Emmaline's letter, her heart warmed by the affection and longing evident in every word. She intends to reply back as soon as possible.

Upon finishing the letter, Daphne couldn't help but smile at the warmth and familiarity of Emmaline's words.

Just then, the door opened, and her husband, Simon, the Duke of Hastings, entered the room. Daphne's smile widened at the sight of him, and she rose from her seat to greet him with a good morning kiss.

"Good morning, my love," Simon murmured against her lips, his eyes alight with warmth and affection. He took his place beside her at the table, his gaze lingering on the letter in her hand.

"Good morning, Simon," Daphne replied, returning his kiss with equal affection as she sat back down to her seat.

"And what's this?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "A letter from London, I presume?"

Daphne nodded, "It's from Emmaline, she sends her regards" she explained. "She's been keeping me updated on all the happenings at Mayfair."

Simon raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Emmaline, hmm? How is she doing?"

Daphne chuckled softly. "Seems she's surviving the season, though she longs for a reprieve from it all." She said, handing him the letter with a fond smile. "It seems Anthony and Emmaline are getting along quite well again."

Simon's brows rose in mild surprise as he read the letter, his lips quirking into a smile at Emmaline's familiar wit and charm. "It's good to hear that they've reconciled," he remarked, handing the letter back to Daphne. "Anthony always did have a soft spot for Emmaline, despite their differences."

Daphne nodded in agreement, tucking the letter away once more before turning her attention back to her husband. "Yes, he seems to be enjoying her company," she said with a smile. "Though I do find it odd, I honestly thought they would never reconcile."

Simon's lips curled into a small smirk. "There may be more to it than meets the eye." He said before he took a sip of his tea.

Daphne arched an eyebrow, her curiosity now piqued. "Simon?"

"Hmm"

"Do you know something that I don't know?"

"Whatever do you mean?" He lied, teasing his wife.

"You do know something!" Daphne's eyes widened in surprise. "Tell me! Tell me Simon!" She playfully swatted his arm as she laughed.

"I know nothing of sorts my dear." Simon chuckled, the sound rich and warm.

Their playful banter was interrupted by a gentle knock on the door, signaling the arrival of a servant. Daphne quickly composed herself and turned to the servant with a smile. The servant smiled back and made their way to the Duke reminding him to visit the tenets today.

"Very well, I will do so after breakfast because," Simon reached across the table to take her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "I want to enjoy the rest of our morning together? There's nowhere else I'd rather be than by my wife's side." he said softly.

And with those words, Daphne's heart swelled with love and gratitude for the man who had captured her heart and soul. She shook her head. "This doesn't mean our conversation is over '' She jokingly said.

"Oh I know, Duchess " he smiled.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

The grand dining hall of the Davison estate was abuzz with the usual morning activity. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow on the polished oak table where the Davison family gathered each morning. The room was filled with the gentle clinking of silverware against porcelain and the chatter of her siblings filled the room. The table, set with the finest china and silver, was filled with a variety of breakfast delights—flaky croissants, scones, fresh fruits, and steaming pots of tea. Emmaline sat at her usual spot, nibbling on a piece of toast with marmalade, savoring the tranquility of the early hour, despite the lively banter among her siblings.

To her right, her eldest brother, Cornelius, patiently helped their youngest sister, Cecilia, with her French lessons. Cecilia, her curly hair tied back with a sage green ribbon, was struggling with a particularly tricky conjugation.

"Bonjour, je suis ravi de vous rencontrer, je m'appelle Cornelius, quel est votre nom?"

"Bonjour, je m'appelle Cécilia et je es ravie de vous rencontrer aussi."

"Non, non, Cecilia," the eldest corrected her gently, his brow furrowing with concentration. "It is 'je suis,' not 'je es.' Let's try that again shall we."

"Why must French be so complicated, Cornelius? Can't we just speak English?" She pouted, her cheeks puffing out in frustration.

"If only it were that simple, dear sister." he chuckled.

"Cecilia, you know it's a privilege to know multiple languages. Not many are fortunate. Pouvez-vous s'il vous plaît me passer la théière" Emmaline added

She groaned knowing her sister is right, "I know.... que c'est juste difficile." She said as she passed over the teapot to her.

"Hey that wasn't hard now was it Lia."

Emmaline chuckled as she poured the tea onto her porcelain cup. Within that moment her other two brothers walked into the dinning hall as they were engaged in a spirited debate.

"You still owe me for that bet at White's," Joshua insisted, his tone playful yet insistent.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I told you, I'll pay you back. Besides, it's not my fault you bet on such a ridiculous outcome. It was a fool's bet from the start," he declared, his voice tinged with frustration. "I told you Lord Harrington never loses at cards."

"And I suppose you had a better wager in mind? We were bound to win at least once!" Joshua countered, his tone equally heated.

Their mother, the Viscountess Davison, sat at the head of the table, was only half-listening to their argument. Her primary focus was on the upcoming ball she was organizing, her thoughts occupied with details and preparations. She meticulously noted down names, her quill scratching against the parchment. The ball was of utmost importance in hope that this event would finally secure a serious suitor for Augusta.

"Joshua, Oliver, please," she interjected, her voice authoritative yet kind. "Settle your disputes later. We have more important matters to attend to. This ball has to be perfect."

Amidst the lively scene, Emmaline's thoughts began to drift as she reached for her teacup. She stared absently at her half-eaten breakfast, her mind wandering to the ball and the social expectations that came with it. She felt a twinge of misery at the prospect of yet another evening spent in forced pleasantries and superficial conversations.

Suddenly, a servant appeared at her side, presenting a silver tray with a letter sealed with the Bridgerton crest. "Miss Emmaline," the servant smiled. "A letter just arrived for you."

"Oh, thank you, Henry." She smiled back and took the letter from the silver tray. The sight of the Basset seal brought a smile to her lips. Over the past two weeks, the two had been exchanging letters constantly as they both kept each other updated in each other day to day lives. She tore open the envelope and began reading Daphne's elegant handwriting, a smile spread across her face, and the room seemed to fade away.

"My dear Emmaline," the letter began, "I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. The days in Clyvon have been rather busy here, but there is so much I need to tell you..."

"Who is the letter from, dear?" Eleanor asked.

"Is it from Daphne?" Cecilia asked, leaning over to peek at the letter.

She nodded. "Yes, it is... and it's from Daphne Mama. She sends her regards." She said before she continued reading the letter to herself. After finishing the letter, she smiled and folded it neatly and placed it beside her plate

"I trust you will attend the ball tonight, Emmaline?"

She sighed, her fleeting joy dampened by the reminder. She turned to her mother, a hint of reluctance in her voice. "Must I, Mama?"

Viscountess Davison looked up from her notes. Her expression softened, but her tone remained firm. "Yes, dear. Your presence is required. It is important for our family and for you to be seen, even if you are not yet out in society. Besides, you might enjoy yourself."

I highly doubt that.

Emmaline sighed, knowing there was no escaping her mother's expectations. She resigned herself to the inevitable, but not without a hint of reluctance.

"Emma, you are so lucky! It's not fair," Cecilia pouted, her eyes wide with envy. "You are not even out yet, and Mama won't let me attend our family ball for even a minute. Oh, how I long to partake!"

"You're not missing much, believe me." Joshua said.

"Exactly but your time will come, Cecilia. For now, you must focus on mastering your French."

"I'd rather be mastering the waltz," She huffed her frustration evident as she crossed her arms.

Cornelius chuckled, ruffling Cecilia's hair caringly. "All in good time."

"You just don't want to be sent to bed early." Oliver added, teasing her.

"That's not true!" She exclaimed as she glared at him. From there she grabbed a piece of biscuit and threw it at him.

He let out a short laugh, poking fun at Cecilia. "If you desperately want to attend so badly, you might want to start with mastering how not to throw tantrums."

Cecilia wasn't having it. "Oh, do be quiet, Oliver!" With a swift motion, she grabbed a biscuit and hurled it at Oliver, the biscuit hitting his face.

"Cecilia!" He exclaimed, his voice rising. "I swear to God—"

The two began bickering loudly, their voices filling the room.

"Shouldn't you be worrying about a certain gentleman asking you to dance, Em?" Joshua turned to Emmaline with a teasing grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

She scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Like who, exactly?"

He smirked, leaning in. "Lord Bridgerton, perhaps? What's going on between you two?"

Emmaline's eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheek but she quickly masked her reaction with a casual shrug. "Nothing is going on..." she insisted, trying to sound indifferent though her voice betrayed her.

Joshua wasn't convinced. "Are you sure? Seems like the two of you are getting rather close... well closer."

"Keep your mouth shut will you!" She whispered harshly.

"Oh you are definitely hiding something sister." He teased.

She didn't want any of her brothers to get suspicions, especially Cornelius god knows what he would do. So by following her little sister's example, Emmaline grabbed a scone and threw it at Joshua.

"Hey!! What was that for?" He exclaimed.

"Thats for not minding your own business, Joshua! That what!"

From there all four siblings' arguments intensified. It was Cornelius who finally raised his voice to restore order. "Enough! Stop it, all of you! Let us remember our manners and enjoy our breakfast in peace."

With Cornelius's intervention, the Davison siblings reluctantly ceased their bickering, beside lingering glares a. Order restored, they returned to their meals, the morning sunlight casting a golden glow over their familial bond. The Viscountess shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "Such antics," she sighed. "Emmaline, you will attend the ball tonight, and that is final. And as for the rest of you, behave."

Emmaline nodded, resigning herself to her fate. Yet, she leaned towards Cecilia, whispering, "I'll sneak you some treats during the ball. And maybe I might even sneak you in for a quick glance."

"Are you being serious?" Her eyes widened with excitement

"I said maybe."

"I'll be good, I promise!" she nodded eagerly and went back to her studies.

Just then, Augusta entered the room, her presence commanding immediate attention. "Mother, about the arrangements for the ball..."

Eleanor turned her focus to Augusta, her tone shifting to one of business. "Yes, dear. We need to ensure everything is perfect. This could be your night."

The morning continued with the family discussing the day's plans, the upcoming ball, and the various social intricacies they would navigate. As breakfast drew to a close, the family dispersed to attend to their respective duties. Emmaline lingered for a moment, gazing out the window and wondering what the evening would bring. With a sigh, she stood and made her way to the drawing-room, her mind already racing with endless thoughts of gowns, music, and the possibility of new beginnings.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

The evening air was infused with a palpable sense of excitement and wonder as the grand doors of the Davison estate swung open, welcoming a steady stream of esteemed guests into their annual ball. This much-anticipated event, renowned throughout London's high society, was a dazzling spectacle that seamlessly combined opulence with this year's theme of celestial grandeur in honor of the Viscount and Viscountess' eldest daughter Augusta debuting into society. The night sky, a velvet canvas studded with twinkling stars, provided the perfect backdrop for an evening destined to be remembered.

The Davison family, known for their impeccable taste and penchant for extravagant affairs, had spared no expense in transforming their palatial home into a celestial paradise. The ballroom, the crown jewel of their estate, shimmered under the light of a thousand candles, their flames flickering like distant stars. Draped in luxurious fabrics of midnight blue and silver, the room evoked the vastness of the cosmos. Crystal chandeliers glittered hung like constellations in the night sky from the vaulted ceilings, their prisms scattering light in every direction, creating an ethereal glow that bathed the entire room in an otherworldly luminescence.

Guests adorned in their finest attire twirled gracefully across the polished marble floor to the enchanting melodies of the live orchestra. The air was alive with the sound of laughter and music, punctuated by the gentle clinking of glasses and the soft rustle of silk skirts.

Emmaline Davison stood by the refreshment table. She was dressed in a breathtaking empire-waist gown that seemed to capture the very essence of a starry night. The gown, a deep shade of midnight blue, shimmered under the glow of the chandeliers, its intricate lace and delicate beading catching the light with every movement. Tiny seed pearls and shimmering beads were meticulously sewn into the lace, creating a celestial motif that twinkled like stars against the dark blue background. The bodice of her dress was a masterpiece of craftsmanship of Madame Delcroix, tightly fitted and adorned with silver embroidery that traced delicate patterns across the fabric. As Emmaline moved, the tulle swayed gently, giving the impression of a starry night sky in motion.

The sweetheart neckline of the gown framed her collarbone, the delicate lace edging softening the line where the fabric met her skin. From each shoulder, sheer tulle drapes extended, floating down her arms like the wings of a celestial being. Her chestnut hair was elegantly styled up, with a few soft strands framing her face. Tiny diamond stars were meticulously placed throughout her hair, making her appear as though she had captured the night sky.

She watched with a soft smile as couples twirled across the dance floor, lost in the rhythm of the music, their laughter and chatter filling the room. She was enjoying the lively atmosphere of the ball, but her eyes occasionally flicked to the grand entrance, as if she was expecting someone.

On the other side of the room, Anthony Bridgerton entered the ballroom with his family. Entering the room, he found his gaze irresistibly drawn to Emmaline. She truly looked like an angel, a vision of beauty that took his breath away. In that moment he felt his body was paralyzed, unable to take his eyes off her. It was as if he had been entrapped by her beauty, his heart quickening in his chest as he drank in the sight of her.

Violet Bridgerton, Anthony's mother, noticed his transfixed gaze and followed his line of sight to Emmaline. She knew that feeling and look all too well. With a knowing smile tugging at her lips, she approached him.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Violet remarked, her voice barely above a whisper, though her words carried across the room with the weight of truth.

Anthony could only nod in response, his heart racing as he beheld the vision before him. Emmaline seemed to glow with an otherworldly radiance, her presence casting a spell over him that he found impossible to resist.

Violet's smile widened, sensing the undercurrents of attraction that pulsed between Anthony and Emmaline. She had long harbored hopes of a union between their families, and Emmaline's enchanting presence only fueled her aspirations. "I can already imagine how her season will be," she mused, her gaze drifting back to Emmaline. Her thoughts drift to the future possibilities that lay ahead for the young Davison girl. "Eleanor is certain that every eligible gentleman will be vying for the chance to court her."

Anthony tried to push aside the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm him. He was well aware of Emmaline's impending debut into society, but the thought of other men vying for her attention unsettled him more than he cared to admit. However, his smile faltered as his gaze shifted, his attention caught by the sight of Lord Fife approaching Emmaline. A frown creased his brow as he observed the interaction, noting Emmaline's discomfort on her face as the lord engaged her in conversation.

Excusing himself from his mother with a murmured apology, Anthony began to make his way through the crowd, his steps quickening with each passing moment. His heart pounded in his chest as he drew nearer, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive at the sight of Emmaline's discomfort..

"...and I was just saying, Miss Davison, that a woman of your beauty should not be standing alone."

Emmaline's polite smile was strained. "I appreciate your concern, Lord Fife, but—"

"Is there a problem?" Anthony's voice cut through the conversation like a blade.

Lord Fife straightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Bridgerton. No, not at all. I was merely making small talk with Miss Davison." He lied smoothly, though his eyes flickered with annoyance.

Turning his attention to Emmaline, Anthony leaned in closer, his voice soft as he whispered, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, but Anthony knew better. He could see the fear lurking behind her facade of composure, the telltale signs of unease etched into the lines of her face.

"Perhaps it's best if you give Miss Davison some space, Lord Fife," Anthony suggested coolly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm sure she has other guests she'd like to speak with."

Lord Fife bristled at Anthony's intervention, his pride wounded by the implication that he was unwelcome in Emmaline's company. "Of course, Bridgerton," he replied through clenched teeth, his tone dripping with disdain. "I wouldn't dream of imposing on Miss Davison any longer."

With a curt nod, he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Anthony and Emmaline alone once more. As the tension dissipated, Anthony turned back to Emmaline, his gaze softening with concern. "Are you okay? Truly?" he asked gently, reaching out to gently grasp her arm.

"I'm fine, really." she murmured softly. "Thank you, you didn't have to do that."

But Anthony could see right through her, his intuition telling him that she was not as okay as she claimed to be. "I know Emma, but I saw how he was making you uncomfortable," he said softly, his voice filled with understanding. "You don't have to pretend with me. I know when something's wrong. Talk to me."

Emmaline's facade crumbled under Anthony's gentle insistence, her shoulders slumping slightly as she let out a weary sigh. "It's just... he was being so... patronizing," she confessed, her voice tinged with frustration. "And I felt like I couldn't escape from him. He's just insufferable."

"I'm sorry you had to endure that," he said softly, his voice filled with sympathy. "Well, now you have me," Anthony said, his tone lighter. "And I promise to be a much more pleasant company."

She chuckled softly. "I appreciate that. You're always good company, Anthony." Emmaline looked around the room, the swirling dancers creating a blur of color and light. "This ball is always so beautiful," she said, changing the subject.

"It is," Anthony agreed, though his focus remained entirely on her. "But it's you who truly shines tonight."

A faint blush colored her cheeks at his compliment. "You're only saying that because we're friends."

"I'm only saying it because it's the truth," Anthony said, his voice low and earnest. He noticed how she kept looking back at the ballroom floor, the couples dancing. He looked over to her. "Miss Davison," he said, offering his hand as he asked, his voice warm and inviting. "Would you care to dance?"

"I would very much like that, Mr. Bridgerton." She said softly, placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, the orchestra beginning a new waltz as they took their places. As they started to dance, Emmaline looked up at him. "Thank you for looking out for me."

Anthony looked down at her, his expression warm and protective. "Of course, that's what friends are for.. What did he want?"

Emmaline sighed. "He was insisting that I should accompany him on a walk in the gardens, alone. I didn't want to be rude, but..."

"You don't have to explain. I'm just glad I could help," Anthony reassured her.

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. "You're always there for me, aren't you?"

"Always," he replied, his voice low and sincere.

They moved in perfect harmony, their connection undeniable. The music swirled around them, and for a moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in the room, lost in their own world. The stars above them twinkled, but none shone as brightly as the connection between them. Emmaline felt a sense of peace she hadn't experienced all evening. Being in Anthony's arms, even for a simple dance, felt right. As they moved across the dance floor, it was clear that their story was only just beginning.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

As the final notes of the waltz faded, Anthony and Emmaline reluctantly parted, though their hands lingered for a moment longer. They made their way back to the refreshment table, the lively chatter of the ballroom enveloping them once again. Emmaline scanned the array of treats, her eyes lighting up as she began to discreetly slip an assortment of pastries and confections into her small bag.

"What on earth are you doing?" He watched her with a puzzled expression.

Emmaline laughed softly. "I promised Cecilia I would bring some treats for her and try to bring her out to the ballroom."

"And do I even bother to ask if your mother and father are okay with this?" Anthony asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Emmaline kept quiet, "Never mind," Anthony said, shaking his head. "You already answered my question."

"So, are you going to help me or not?" Emmaline teased.

Anthony sighed as he shook his head,pretending to be annoyed. "You owe me."

"Says you," she teased.

Together, they discreetly slipped out of the ballroom and started making their way up the staircase. "Do you think anyone saw us?" she asked, glancing back at Anthony.

"I don't think so. I think we're in the clear,"

Emmaline nodded. "This way," she whispered, guiding them to Cecilia's room. She knocked gently on the door and whispered, "Cecilia, it's me. Open up."

The door creaked open, revealing Cecilia, who immediately brightened at the sight of her older sister holding a bag of treats. "Emmy!" she brought her inside her room.

"I come bearing gifts" She whispered as she opened her bag, revealing all the treats.

"Oh thank you." Her eyes lit up at the sight of the treats. She grabbed a mini cake from Emmaline's bag, grinning as she took a bite.

Emmaline laughed softly. "You have quite the appetite tonight, don't you?"

Cecilia grinned, unrepentant. "They're so delicious!"

Emmaline smiled. "That's not all."

Cecilia raised her eyebrows, confused until Anthony peeked his head around the door frame. Her face broke into a wide smile, and she exclaimed, "Tony!" she exclaimed, running up to him.

Anthony chuckled, lifting her up and twirling her around. "I heard someone is planning on a little escapade," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Cecilia slapped her sister's arm playfully. "You told him!"

"I did no such thing," Emmaline lied, feigning innocence.

"I wonder who influenced you," Anthony said to Cecilia before crossing his arms and looking pointedly at Emmaline.

Emmaline shook her head. "Don't look at me. She thought of this all on her own."

Cecilia pouted, her hands on her hips. "Obviously you told him! If you didn't, he wouldn't be here."

Anthony couldn't help but smile at Cecilia's, his heart softening at her enthusiasm. She reminded him so much of his youngest sister, Hyacinth, always eager to explore and push boundaries. He knew better than to encourage such behavior, but he couldn't help giving in to her innocent excitement.

"You know, you are becoming more and more like your sister," he remarked, his voice a mix of affection and gentle admonishment.

"I don't know whether I should be moved or offended," Emmaline interjected.

Anthony turned to her with a smirk, his expression mirroring the one he often wore when teasing his brother Benedict. "Perhaps both," Anthony teased, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

Emmaline's mouth opened slightly, pretending to be offended by Anthony's remark. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, giving him a playful glare. Anthony couldn't help but chuckle at her fake offenses, his eyes dancing with amusement. They shared a look, the world around them fading as they lost themselves in each other's eyes.

But their playful exchange was interrupted by Cecilia. She cleared her throat loudly, drawing their attention back to her. "So, are you both going to help me or not?" She looked at them expectantly, raising an eyebrow as she waited for their response.

They both broke their gaze, Emmaline quickly composed herself, looking down at Cecilia with a warm smile while Anthony tried to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

"Of course," Emmaline said, "but remember you have to be very quiet and stay close to us. We don't want to get caught."

Cecilia nodded eagerly, already bouncing on her toes. "I promise! I'll be super quiet. Now let's go" she giggled, pulling at Anthony's arm. "Come on, Tony! Let's go!"

"Alright, alright," he conceded, allowing Cecilia to drag him and Emmaline back down the hall.

"Thank you." She whispered with a light chuckle.

"As I said, you owe me," he replied with a wink.

The three of them crouched down at the top of the staircase, peering over the edge to watch the dancers below. The ballroom floor was alive with movement, the dancers gliding gracefully across the polished surface as the orchestra played a lively tune.

Cecilia's eyes widened in awe as she took in the dazzling sight. "It's even more beautiful than I imagined," she whispered.

Emmaline smiled softly but noticed how her sister's face fell slightly. She didn't have the tinkle in her eyes anymore. "What's wrong?"

Cecilia sighed, her gaze fixed on the swirling dancers. "I just wish I could experience this. I'm so eager to partake, but Mother and Father won't allow it."

Anthony and Emmaline exchanged a look of understanding. "It's not all that grand," Emmaline tried to explain. "Sometimes it's quite boring." She reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Cecilia's shoulder.

He nodded, "It's not as grand as it seems, Cecilia. Sometimes, these events can be overwhelming and exhausting. There are rules and expectations to follow, and not everyone finds joy in them."

"That's right, Cecilia. It's not all that it seems to be. Sometimes, it's just a lot of standing around and making small talk with people you barely know." She added

Cecilia sighed. "But it looks so magical," she murmured, her eyes still glued to the dancers below. "I still want to be a part of it."

As Anthony watched Cecilia's longing gaze, he felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. He couldn't bear to see her disappointed, He looked down to see they were about to start the next dance. Without hesitation, he got off the floor and extended his hand to Cecilia, a warm smile playing on his lips. "Would you like to dance, Cecilia?"

Cecilia's eyes widened with surprise and delight as she looked up at Anthony, then back at Emmaline, seeking her sister's approval. Emmaline smiled softly, urging her sister to go.

Cecilia hesitated for a moment before tentatively placing her hand in Anthony's. "Okay," she said, her voice filled with excitement. "Yes, please!" she exclaimed eagerly.

Anthony chuckled warmly as he helped her off the ground. With practiced ease, he positioned themselves on the floor, the landing overlooking the ballroom ready to dance. As the music began to play, they started to move together, their laughter mingling with the melody. Anthony spun Cecilia around, her laughter filling the air as they twirled and swayed.

Meanwhile, Emmaline remained seated on the floor as she watched them with an adoring look. She clapped her hands to the beat of the music, her eyes never leaving Anthony and Cecilia. She watched how Anthony cared for Cecilia as if she were his own, his gentle guidance and playful banter bringing a smile to her lips. And as Anthony looked back at her with a smile, Emmaline felt a warmth spread through her chest. And in that fleeting moment, the worries and responsibilities of the world seem to have melted away.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:
hi loves!!!!! i hope you guys enjoy the new chapter, so so so sorry it took me this long to get it out. i've been busy and its official summer for me. also can we talk about part 1 and part 2 of Bridgerton Season 3. nichola and luke n. did such an amazing job like my god they DELIVERED THIS SEASON AHHHHH. they really said were changing lives and they did just that. i ate those 10 minutes of kanthony screen time up hehehehe.

also remember how I said after this chapter there will be one more chapter left until we start act 2..... well when writing this chapter I realized I was going to have to cut it in half again. so with that being said we still have two more chapter left of act 2. I know im sorry im sorry but good news is since I cut this chapter in half, it just means you guys will have the next chapter way earlier(by early I mean new chapter next week or next two week hopefully hehehehe👀)

another exciting thing is CRUEL SUMMER JUST HIT 59K reads WHAT?!?!?! I still can't believe it at all like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AHHHHHH. again thank you so much for all the love and support it means the world to me <3

don't forget to comment and vote loves. don't be a ghost reader and I'll see you guys in the next chapter! <3

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CRUEL SUMMER © pattyluquin, 2022