Chapter fifteen
Anticlimax of the season

"Come on, Mama, we are going to be late!"

            Fleur ran around the house, searching for her pair of earrings — the ones she swore she had left lying on the piano. They were no longer there, and Fleur would not even bother showing up with nude ears. The Lachapelles were known for their fine jewellery. Since Fleur had enough she lacked, she couldn't show up without even some bling around her neck or dangling from her ears.

            She was feeling lucky to stand on the side with a reasonable excuse today. That reason being that she had to. Last year, Zahara had somehow managed to succeed in getting Fleur to debut for the queen a second time under the lie that Fleur shied away with her older sister shining so brightly next to her. She hadn't fully been given a fair chance yet. Everyone, including Zahara, knew the second time wouldn't come out much better, however she still tried.

            "Oh, Sister, don't fret. You'll be on time. After all, the show cannot start with their star." Carlotta stood up from the couch to raise her eyebrows at Fleur.

            Fleur instead gasped. "You!" She pointed at her sister's ears. "I have been searching for those the entire time!"

            "I found them on the piano," Carlotta held up her hands to appear more innocent. "I thought they looked nice."

"Of course they look nice. I am to wear them right this instant," Fleur said. Lola refused to give them back, so Fleur saw no other options than to call. "Mama! Lola will not give me back my earrings!"

Zahara's voice shouted back from far away. "Carlotta, give your sister her earrings! You have your own pair." And plenty of them, Zahara also thought, but refused to say.

Carlotta groaned, but handed over the earrings regardless of her reluctance. "Thank you." Fleur said ingeniously.

Shortly after, Zahara and Fleur left, alone. In truth, Fleur didn't know why no one else joined them. Obviously Sloane and Cristian wouldn't be attending, but why Franklin had Henri and Carlotta staying home, she didn't know. The Featheringtons, too, were staying at home, Penelope had told her. Fleur was going to have to face society alone once again. For Eloise.

            Fleur found herself thanking whoever was watching over her once again when she entered the hall, knowing she wouldn't be the one being watched. She was, however, looking forward to seeing Eloise's debut. She'd been going on and on about how not prepared she was, and how unfortunate she found herself in this position. Fleur continuously told her otherwise, but the girl wouldn't hear it.

            "Fleur," Zahara said. "Since you and that Bridgerton girl—"

            "That Bridgerton girl has a name, Mama," Fleur smiled to herself despite Zahara's apparent displeasure with Eloise. She found her a bad influence, saying she was a delinquent with a mind of her own. In a way, she was correct, but that was exactly why Fleur spent all her time with her. "And you should use it, since there are plenty of Bridgerton girls."

          Zahara sighed and tilted her nose up in the air. "Since you and Eloise have done such an extensive research on Lady Whistledown, do you suppose she will return?"

          Fleur chuckled. "You are starting to enjoy her columns, are you not?" She laughed at her mother's transparency. "If you want me to guess . . . she was presumably left the country in the off–season, alike to almost every member of the ton. Now that the new season starts again, she shall start writing again. It wouldn't even surprise me if the first column arrives as soon as today."

            It was the first time in a while Zahara actively listened to her daughter. The way she had delved into the search as if she had been getting paid for it. And she was good. She should be getting paid for this.

            Fleur disagreed on that matter. When Eloise told her of their grand mistake, she felt she was made of the utmost stupidity. Even though she had her doubts with Madame Delacroix being Lady Whistledown, she let herself be convinced. But it couldn't have been Madame Delacroix after all, since Benedict had been with her all evening before she left for some course in France.

            "Hush! It is starting!" Zahara exclaimed, even though Fleur wasn't speaking. Sure, her inner monologue was rambling, but her mouth did not even move an inch.

            After about a dozen debutantes, the man introducing them called out. "The Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton and Miss Eloise Bridgerton."

            Fleur instantly grew a smile on her face when the doors opened to the girl who she had spent so much of her time with. Eloise was nervous, Fleur could tell within the first second. Her chest heaved due to her tendency to breathe deeply whenever she was nervous.

            Something was wrong. Fleur thought Eloise might faint if she had to proceed down the aisle. Thankfully for her, a door opened on the other side of the hall, making everyone turn their heads toward the sound of a single footman approaching the Queen. Fleur, however continued to look at Eloise. But as soon as Eloise noticed the Queen's attention shifted to the pamphlet the footman had brought with him, she ran.

            "What is the meaning of this?" The Queen had asked the footman, enraged. When she grabbed the pamphlet from the silver tray, she'd called out. "I've seen enough."

            That had been Eloise's cue. She was practically out of the room already by the time the Queen had finished her sentence. Two more footmen entered the room, handing out what appeared to be Lady Whistledown's latest copy.

            Zahara looked down at Fleur as she grabbed a copy from the tray. "It appears you were right." She said in a strange way of praising.

            "I didn't think she would publish now." Fleur did not notice Zahara's look, as she was too busy looking down at the paper in her hand. Dearest gentle reader, it read, Did you miss me?

            Fleur decided the upcoming day to pay a visit to the Bridgertons, but especially Eloise. Over the off–season she had become such a regular visitor, the maids could not bother showing her to the music room any longer. She had practically been taken into the family.

            When she entered the music room, Francesca was sitting behind the piano, playing a classical tune beautifully. Fleur had always praised Francesca on her musical talent. But what surprised her to see were Eloise and Gregory, dancing in the middle of the room. A less surprising detail — Gregory was doing a better job than Eloise.

            "Ah! Dancing, I see. How fun." Fleur said as she wiggled her eyebrows at Eloise. She knew how much the brunette despised the activity. Benedict was lying down on one of the couches, his drawings in his lap. As Fleur pushed his feet off the couch, forcing him to sit upright, and sat down, Gregory complained about Eloise stepping on his feet.

            "Might we be done?" Eloise asked pleadingly.

            Violet was quick to retort. "If you are to catch the queen's eye after that interruption, you must be perfection. Tea, dearest?" She turned to Fleur for that last part.

            "Yes, please."

            "Perhaps you would learn faster if you were to dance with Fleur. Would that be an idea?" Violet proposed, walking around the room to give Fleur one of the cups filled with tea.

            Eloise grudgingly grabbed her brother's hand again, shaking her hair back. "Do not give me false hope, Mama. That will not be allowed at an actual ball."

            "Shocking that Eloise Bridgerton was not named the season's diamond, was it not?" Benedict added himself to the conversation. Fleur had become quite close to Benedict, seeing as he often spent his time with Henri, especially when Madame Delacroix was away. Of course, she has been back for a while now, preparing herself for the orders of the new season.

            Benedict's comment lost its shock when Anthony walked in, complaining. "Was anyone aware that dear Colin has apparently decided to add Albania or some such place to his itinerary as he gads about the world?"

            "I heard Albania is quite beautiful." Fleur shared.

            "Do you not have a home of your own?" Anthony asked her. Fleur did not take it to heart. She knew how Anthony sometimes spoke when he was already angry or upset. But he, most of the time, did not mean any of the harmful things he said.

            "How happy for him that he can simply decide to do that." Eloise said through her effort in the steps. Gregory on the other hand seemed bored. He knew them already.

            "Joining us for tea, Anthony?" Violet called.

            Anthony shook his head. "Uh, I'm afraid I must pass. Too many calls on my funds today. Now that the season has started, I shall need to fill your coffers at the modiste and oversee the hieing of a few new staff," While he talked, Gregory sat down in the chair and Eloise sat down in the couch opposite Fleur and Benedict. "And your ring," Anthony said to Violet. "When you get the chance, I shall need it. The fields by Ferryhallow. I was thinking we might hold off on leasing them due to the hard frost."

            "I beg your pardon?" Was all Violet could manage in processing what she heard.

            Fleur sipped her tea, awaiting Anthony's explanation. Luckily for him, he explained it well. "The frost hardens the soil, saps it of nutrients."

            "That is very well," Violet dismissed the explanation with a wave of her hand. Obviously it had not been what she meant. "But you requested my ring?"

            "Father's betrothal ring."

            Next to Fleur, Benedict smiled mischievously. "Did someone catch your eye at the presentation, Brother?"

            Hyacinth commented. "I thought all of the young ladies looked beautiful." She turned around to face her eldest brother.

            "Not particularly. And all the young ladies looked the same," Anthony said. "Like young ladies."

            "Is that not the point?" Fleur questioned herself more. She wondered why she and her Mama had been spending all this effort and time if it was not, in fact, the point.

            Anthony sighed, expressing himself further. "I should simply like to be prepared for when the opportunity presents itself."

            "The opportunity?" Violet found it laughable.

            "I've already compiled an index of the season's eligible misses and have arranged interviews." Anthony did not let his mother's comment stop him.

            "Interviews." Violet was now actually laughing. "Dearest, I shall be more than happy to give you my ring when you find someone with whom you are very much in love. Besides, it is in safekeeping at Aubrey Hall."

            Fleur had to admit, the Bridgertons being comfortable enough in her presence that they were having these sort of conversations in front of her made her happy. If she was not to be fully accepted in society or even in her own house sometimes, she was always accepted within these walls.

            Violet shuffled over to Benedict, murmuring to him. See that he is quite well. Fleur laughed softly.

            "Me?"

            "I'm not in need of coddling," Anthony called. "I assure you all, everything is in order."

            Anthony left after that. The family was silent for a few seconds, having to process everything Anthony had said. "Fleur," Violet said after that short silence. "I heard about your encounter with Lord Ashby."

            "Yes, well . . ." Fleur's eyes slowly trailed over to Eloise. Eloise was already looking at her after her mother's comment. Fleur had been spending a lot of time with Thomas, she had to admit. He was everything Zahara hoped she would one day marry — kind, rich, handsome, young, well–liked. Naturally, she had been pressuring Fleur in spending time with him. And Fleur did not mind, that was the strangest part about it.

             She had never met a man whom managed to do anything other than gross her out. And he was perfect in every way. Not to mention, beyond Fleur's league, even Lady Whistledown had called him one of the most eligible gentlemen of the season. So, why did Fleur still not feel anything resembling butterflies?

            Fleur had decided to pretend. So when she talked about, or to, him, faux butterflies fluttered. But faux is far from real, she would soon find out.

First chapter of act 2! S2 is my favourite season, in the series, but also with Fleur's story. The things I'm going to do to her you guys . . . 🤗🤗

I forgot to do this in the last chapter, but this is who I imagine as Thomas (when I find his name, I'll add his character to the introduction)