Kathani and Edwina,

It feels like such a long time has passed since I last wrote to either of you, but in reality it has only been a month: time seemingly has stretched on to feel like an eternity, I suppose. The social season has started and so have my many attempts to dodge any callers that come my way. This year is worse than last, unfortunately. Papa has put it upon himself to have Lord Bridgerton (the Head of the large family who lives across the square that we've been friendly with for decades) chaperone most of the season's events so he, himself, isn't obliged to. Of course, Lord Bridgerton is very generous but he says my plans for living my life unmarried are unrealistic. I loathe him and his perfectly reasonable but unfounded concerns.

How are the two of you doing? Edwina, how are your lessons coming along? In her last letter, Kate mentioned that you were learning French. What a good endeavor, indeed! I am wishing you the best, and I know that these lessons will pay off when you come to stay with us here in England for your debut season next year. I have been looking into sign language lessons but I have still not broached the idea with Papa. Hopefully he will agree to let me pursue it.

Kate, you must write back to me and tell me how your art is fairing. I still have your painting hanging in my bedroom. I look at it everyday, wishing you two were by my side. Your talent is astonishing and I must confess that I am envious of the way you are able to bring any scene to life with just a paintbrush and watercolors. What a true talent!

I am hoping that after the season ends, the year goes by quickly. I have been passing the time, studying fashion trends for next year so I can make several dresses for each of you. Already I've sketched a few out. Is turquoise still your favorite color, Kate? Edwina, of course I remember your fondness for pink! Next season will be so much better with you two by my side.

I miss you two so much and I cannot wait until we are back together again. Please give Aunt Mary my love. George has given his all to you.

Love,

Winnie Sheffield

"Berbrooke is awful, truly!" Daphne complained as she slumped onto the sofa next to Winnie; she took the biscuit she had in her hand and split it in half, handing the other to Winnie, who took it gratefully. "What Lady Whistledown writes about me is horrible, but not incorrect. He is my only caller."

"But surely there will be more?" Winnie pondered, pausing to nibble on the biscuit. Shortbread, how lovely. "Is that not what the viscount told you?"

"Yes, but he does not know what it is like," Daphne sighed; Winnie cocked her head in agreement. "The men around the Ton do not see me as desirable as they once did. With Lord Berbrooke as my only caller," she paused to shudder. "my value is damaged. I am not worthy of anyone but that man in their eyes."

Winnie shook her head empathetically. Daphne Bridgerton was the most beautiful young lady in all of Mayfair. The eligible gentlemen of the Ton were interested, but were just scared away by the Viscount. "That is not true, Daff. I say this delicately, but I think the problem is Lord Bridgerton. You had plenty of suitors at the Danbury Ball and the morning after, but he scared them away."

"I agree. I have tried talking to him, but he will not see it my way."

"Perhaps we shall force him to see it, then..."

Daphne looked over at Winnie with raised eyebrows. "And how would we do that?"

Winnie thought for a moment, her mind racing as she went through various scenarios that they could pull off. Most of them were too extravagant and too unrealistic.

"Oh, I do not know," she sighed, slumping in defeat. "We shall have to think more on it. Maybe I could distract him and ask him to find a suitor for myself. It would take the heat off of you."

"Yes, but you do not wish to be married yet, and I cannot ask you for such a sacrifice," Daphne pointed out. "This whole situation is simply impossible."

"The pain of being a woman," they recited Winnie's mama in unison before breaking out in giggles.

The doors to the drawing room opened suddenly; the girls straightened, but relaxed when they saw that it was Violet who walked in.

"Ladies, I have wonderful news! The Duke of Hastings shall be dining with us tonight. And, of course, you shall join us as well, Winnie."

"I'd be delighted," Winnie agreed, though she knew she didn't really have a choice when it came to Violet. She couldn't say no to the woman.

The news of the Duke of Hastings attending dinner seemed to shake Daphne, making her look even more miserable. Considering what she had told Winnie of their meeting—she had bumped into the duke while running away from Berbrooke, ironically—Winnie could understand. The duke and Daphne did not get off on the right foot.

-

Winnie hurried down the stairs to the grand foyer, hoping that she hadn't taken too long in meeting Lady Bridgerton there. It was only a few minutes since Humboldt had relayed his mistress' message and though she did not know what she could help Violet with, she would always come running whenever she called.

Luckily, Lady Bridgerton did not look upset upon her less-than hasty arrival. She reached out and took Winnie's hand as she stepped off the stairs and led her over to the table full of flowers in the middle of the room.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Lady Bridgerton. Are you doing well? Do you need help with something? Did I do something wrong?"

Violet laughed lightly at her rambling and patted her hand fondly. "You are completely fine, dearest. I asked you down here so we could speak without Daphne overhearing. I was also hoping you could greet the duke with me and Anthony."

Winnie was confused and she knew that Lady Bridgerton could tell. The Lady of the House usually greeted dinner guests with the Head, her husband, so it was unusual for Violet to ask such a thing from her. Did this have something to do with the Viscount?

"Please, do not fret, Winnie," Violet begged her and hurried to explain. "Lady Danbury and I are trying to set a match between Daphne and the duke. As her dearest friend, I was hoping you would like to join us on this endeavor."

Violet's reveal explained away any confusion that Winnie had. Violet was just asking for her advice and so close to the duke's arrival, she might as well greet him with Lady and Lord Bridgerton before heading to dinner.

Now, a match between Daphne and the Duke of Hastings? Well, despite their seemingly disastrous meeting, Winnie had seen the chemistry between them with her own eyes. Daphne was gorgeous and personable, which could bring out a more social side in the handsome duke. Really, until the duke did something dishonorable, there was no reason to deny such a match.

Winnie grinned and had to physically stop herself from squealing in excitement by covering her mouth. "Yes, of course," she managed to say once she settled down slightly. "Have you and Lady Danbury made any moves yet?"

"Indeed, we have," Violet smiled just as widely as her. "His invitation to dinner was just part one. My cook is also baking gooseberry pie which, as made known by Lady Danbury, is the duke's favorite dessert."

"Oh, stunning!" Winnie said appreciatively. "And we shall sit them together, of course."

"Just as I was thinking," Lady Bridgerton agreed. "You won't be terribly upset if you were unable to sit in your usual seat, would you, dearest?"

"Not at all, Violet! I think I can handle being separated from Daphne and Greg for one evening," she added somewhat sarcastically, causing Violet to smile indulgently. "Of course, sitting together, they will be forced to make conversation, and the duke will simply love the pie. Oh, this is all so exciting."

Down the hallway came the sound of leather soles against marble floors. "What," Lord Bridgerton asked before he was fully visible, having heard Winnie's voice echo through the hall to his study. "is it that's so exciting?"

"L-Lord Bridgerton!" Winnie almost shouted due to the shock he gave her. "Good evening!"

Anthony promptly looked to his mother for an answer.

"We were talking about the Duke of Hastings," his mother told him. "He shall be joining us for dinner tonight. As will Winnie, of course."

Anthony raised his eyebrows at his mother and glanced at Winnie, watching how she avoided eye contact with him. It was the main sign that she was lying or hiding something; he had known those dishonest quirks for many years, especially when she and Eloise got into trouble together.

"Hastings?" he studied Winnie for a moment longer, watching as she looked at him and away again within a second. "What are you two planning?"

"We are not planning anything, dear," Violet laughed airily.

Winnie wished she had the ability to save face as well as Lady Bridgerton. She knew that Anthony knew her tells, she knew that he was watching her reaction, and she definitely knew that he knew something.

Anthony did not believe his mother for very good reason. "Miss Sheffield."

Winnie jerked her head toward him, her face and the back of her neck heating up from his inquisitive stare. "Lord Bridgerton," she greeted him again, her anxiety making her dumb. "How are you?"

Though her second greeting did somewhat amuse him, Anthony still gave her an unimpressed look. "Very well, thank you. I would ask how you are, but from the look on your face, I know you two are scheming together. Care to tell me what you are scheming about?"

"W-We are n-not—no plans—I mean, there are no—nothing comes to—" the moment she started to stammer, Anthony grinned triumphantly.

"You are a terrible liar, Winnifred," he took a step closer to her; she immediately looked away and started playing with the bangles around her wrists. He knew that she inherited them from her mother who received them as a wedding gift from Thomas. "Does this have anything to do with the duke?"

It was a universal fact that the Bridgerton family knew Winnie very well, even the dowager Viscountess. And while the tension between Winnie and Anthony was new and begging to be studied further, their interaction could go on no longer. Winnie would break soon and Violet would sooner speak to Anthony about the duke than have them feud further.

"Oh, leave the girl alone, Anthony," Violet sighed. "There is nothing planned. I simply asked Winnie to greet the duke with me."

Before Anthony could call her out, Humboldt stepped into the foyer with the Duke of Hastings, announcing his arrival. While Violet bustled toward him, Anthony spun back around so he could be face-to-face with Winnie.

"Whatever you are planning, it won't work," he spoke very quietly so the Duke and his mother wouldn't overhear, but made sure that Winnie could hear him with no difficulty, his hot breath fanning down her neck.

Winnie breathed deeply, heart thumping hard in her chest. "I am not planning anything, my lord."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"You never believe a word out of my mouth."

"I should think that is because you are untrustworthy. You've proved it when–"

Winnie cut him off, annoyed now. "Are you going to bring that up again? It's been years now, Anthony—"

"Lord Bridgerton." Right now, Anthony was just messing with her. He truly did not care whether or not she called him by his proper title at home but he liked to see her get riled up. It was amusing to see her stand up straighter, like she could intimidate him with her short height, and stomp one foot when she really got frustrated. He did not know why he liked to see her become so passionate in her anger, but he did not care to stop, either.

Unfortunately, before he could see the fruits of his labor, Violet led the duke over to them. Anthony straightened up and faced Simon, grabbing his arm enthusiastically. It was always nice to see his closest friends, even if they had just spoken at the club the day before.

"Hastings, good evening! I trust you've settled in well at Hastings House?"

"Of course, Bridgerton. I must thank you for having me over," Simon nodded back at him before looking over at Winnie, a knowing implication in his eyes that Anthony did not like. "Good evening, Miss Sheffield. I did not know that you would be here."

"Hello, your grace," Winnie bobbed into a curtsy but before she could answer him fully, Anthony interrupted.

"Winnifred is a frequent dinner guest."

Winnie glared at him, angry that he spoke for her. She had a mind and voice of her own and he was not her husband—though she would not want her husband to speak for her, either—so he had no right to answer for her. Her glare was not at all intimidating and Anthony stared back at her, eyes just as sharp.

It was a clear challenge and she wasn't going to look away first. Unfortunately, Anthony was just as stubborn.

"Come, your Grace," Violet laughed awkwardly and led the Duke to the dining room. "Hopefully the rest of my children are seated and behaving."

"I suspect that they are, with you as their mother," the duke replied smoothly, drifting further down the hallway.

A few seconds passed and Winnie and Anthony had still not ended their staring contest. Winnie was getting an urge to blink that was not going away, but she wasn't going to give up. That was the Viscount's job.

In a quick movement, she jabbed the heel of her shoe into his foot.

Anthony broke eye contact immediately and cursed under his breath—words that Lady Bridgerton would be appalled to hear him say in a lady's presence—and paced for a second, walking off the pain.

"I loathe you," he hissed at her while she smiled triumphantly. "You are so damn aggravating!"

"Oh, Lord Bridgerton, please my ears!" she gasped mockingly. "They don't understand such impolite language. I am a lady, afterall!"

"More like a vile toad," he replied sarcastically. He glanced at his father's watch and swiftly snatched up Winnie's arm. "Come along," he tightened his grip until it was only a little bit painful, a taste of his revenge. "I believe that we are holding up dinner."

Just like Anthony, Winnie found that she rather enjoyed making him angry. Amused by his insult and the way he carefully dragged her–even when he was furious he was careful with her, which was infuriating–she laughed lightly and followed his lead. "You know, your eyes nearly turn black when you're angry."

"They do not," Anthony hissed down at her before nodding at the doormen leading into the dining room; as they opened the doors, he let go of her arm and smiled for his family. "Is dinner served yet? I am simply starving."

"Yes, only a moment ago," Violet answered. "Winnie, Hyacinth saved you a seat by her."

Winnie quietly thanked her and settled into her seat next to Hyacinth, who smiled brightly at her. Usually, when she came over to Bridgerton dinners, she would sit between Daphne and Gregory, but as the duke was attending, Daphne was in her usual seat. She did not mind changing her seat, as she loved Hyacinth, but this also meant that she would be seated next to Anthony, who sat at the head of the table on one end, his mother on the other.

She could practically feel the heat of his glare on her as she sat down, but she ignored it. It soon went away when he hid his face in a glass of wine.

Light conversation started up as everyone dug in and started to eat. Winnie spoke to Francesca about her upcoming trip to Bath, where she would stay with family in order to master the pianoforte, just like Daphne had years before. Though Francesca was quiet, much like her at times, she was always interesting to talk to. Before long, Eloise, who sat on the other side of Hyacinth, settled into their conversation and the topic drifted to Lady Whistledown, which got the whole family involved.

"For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all places," Anthony commented dryly.

"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict replied hastily. "That the people who live there actually work for a living?"

Winnie cocked her head, thinking over Benedict's words. How would Lady Whistledown know all the Ton's gossip if she lived and worked in Bloomsbury?

"She does seem to be someone with access," Daphne spoke between bites of food, her own train of thought similar to Winnie's.

Colin added, "Who knows if Whistledown is even a she?"

"Fair point!" Anthony agreed with him.

Eloise bristled, insulted. "Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Colin raised his eyebrows tauntingly at her while Benedict gave her a silly face.

"If the author was a man, why would he use Lady Whistledown as his pen name?" Winnie spoke thoughtfully, her fingers playing with the stem of her wine glass. "A man would not need to, nor would he want to."

"Yes, thank you!" Eloise exclaimed, waving a hand toward her in agreement. "I swear, you and I are the only intellectuals here, Winnie."

"I wouldn't go that far, Eloise," Anthony muttered behind his wine glass, thankful that Winnie was speaking with Hyacinth on her other side and was too focused on that conversation to hear his jibe.

"Well, I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury," Francesca, who had heard his comment at the same time as Eloise, spoke quickly so an awkward silence wouldn't linger. Already, Eloise was glaring at him and she didn't want Winnie to be insulted by her idiotic brother.

"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly," Daphne disagreed. "She would never bother herself writing them all down."

Hyacinth perked up hopefully. "Could it be Lady Featherington?"

"No!" every sibling, including Winnie, answered her, laughing. The thought of Lady Portia Featherington being clever enough to be Lady Whistledown was truly an amusing thought, indeed.

"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister." Eloise told her.

"Truly awful things, really," Winnie mused. "Penelope is the kindest girl in the world."

Eloise nodded in agreement. "The same could not be said about her sisters, however."

"Quite true."

Francesca and Eloise continued to think about the ladies of the Ton that had the potential to be Lady Whistledown, but Winnie was distracted by how quiet Anthony had become beside her. All sounds that came from him were the clinking of his silverware against his plate as he ate.

When Winnie looked at him, she saw why. He was too busy observing the Duke of Hastings, Daphne, and Violet at the other end of the table, talking amongst themselves.

The thing about Anthony Bridgerton was that he was always serious. Winnie was sure she could count his smiles on two hands in the near two decades that she had known the Bridgerton family, and most of them occurred before the late Viscount's death. But, as he looked upon the Duke of Hastings and his mother as they chatted, he looked more disgruntled than usual.

Winnie, herself, was an empathic person and although she did not like Anthony, she did care about him as one often would around someone they had known for more than fifteen years. She couldn't help herself from speaking up, gently touching his arm nearest to her until he turned to her with raised eyebrows.

"Yes?"

"What is the matter?" she asked him patiently.

"Nothing is the matter."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Winnie sighed; she knew they weren't friends and that they loathed each other, but was it too much to ask for him to open up? "The Duke of Hastings is your friend, yes?"

Anthony nodded and took a sip of his wine, his eyes staying on her. "I've known him for more than twenty years."

"Very well," she nodded in acceptance. "Then why are you looking at him like you would like to duel at dawn?"

He immediately went to argue. "I am not—I..." he sighed heavily and gave in, leaning toward her more so no one else could hear their conversation. "Like I said, I know the duke very well. Well enough to know what he wants out of his future. And I know you. I know my mother," his gaze left her eyes when she immediately started fidgeting, her slim fingers plucking at her gold bangles once again. "and since you are not in your normal seat and Mother went out of her way to sit him next to Daphne, I gather that you two are playing matchmaker."

Sometimes Winnie forgot how wise Anthony could be.

When she didn't say anything to deny his claim, his eyes went back to hers and he continued, "The duke does not wish to marry. He has told me many times, in fact. Setting a match between him and Daphne will lead to nothing good and Daphne will get hurt in the process."

Winnie inhaled at the new information and glanced down the table at Daphne and the duke, who seemed to mostly set aside their differences and were bantering like old friends."I did not realize," she looked back at Anthony, who had not looked away from her. "I apologize. I would not have...I mean to say—"

"You could not have known," Anthony conceded there, tilting his head slightly. "But now that you do...?"

"I shall not encourage it," Winnie answered carefully. "As long as you consider more suitors for Daphne than Lord Berbrooke. He's completely vile and Daphne is better than him."

Anthony sighed and eyed her warily. "I suppose I can give more gentlemen a chance," he agreed and shook his head. "I do not know why my family are so utterly besotted with you. You're so stubborn."

Winnie laughed lightly. "I'm stubborn?" she took a sip of her wine, grimacing at the taste (she'd never been a fan of any kind of wine), and set her glass back down. "And you should be grateful for the way this acquaintanceship works. Who else would argue with you each time you saw them?"

"I have my younger siblings to argue with."

"Ah, but that is not the same." Winnie shook her head, though she did understand where he was coming from. George had the potential to be a little nightmare sometimes. "Siblings always fight. Especially when the eldest sibling is always right."

"Oh, so that's the reason you and George are never seen squabbling?" Anthony smirked at her. "You're always wrong?"

"I loathe you."

Anthony chuckled shortly. "Back at you, love."

There was a flutter of something unknown in Winnie's stomach at the use of that particular nickname. She paused to see if he noticed that he used it on her, but it seemed that he hadn't. To be fair, Hyacinth and Gregory did start an argument that pulled them away from their conversation.

"Gregory!" Hyacinth slammed her fork down on the table. "Would you stop tossing peas at me?"

"Those peas were already there," Gregory sat up straight in his chair. "You cannot tell me what to do. I am older."

"And I'm taller!"

"Hyacinth, Gregory, please settle down," Winnie cut in before their fight could escalate, or before Anthony and Violet could say anything to the youngest Bridgertons. "Greg, you know from experience that you cannot have dessert without eating your vegetables first."

Anthony watched, utterly amazed, as Gregory practically melted at the patient smile Winnie sent him. He had never in his life seen his youngest brother back down so easily and eat his vegetables so quickly.

"Apologize to Hyacinth," Winnie requested of Gregory. Gregory did not wait a second to do as he was told. "Hyacinth, apologize to Gregory for calling him short. We must not insult a young man about his height."

Hyacinth apologized and all was back to normal...until their next fight. It didn't matter how many apologies were thrown around by the two—they would always squabble as siblings do.

"I think my youngest brother is in love with you," Anthony told her once everyone went back to their food.

Winnie shook her head with a smile. "Nonsense."

Down the table, the Duke of Hastings, fresh out of his bickering with the woman beside him, asked her, "Are you quite sure that Anthony and Miss Sheffield are not married?"

Daphne glanced at her brother and best friend and smiled slightly. "One could only wish."