At last season’s house party at Aubrey Hall, after what was reported to be a lively game of Pall Mall in which the duchess’s younger sister Eloise did not compete (apparently not for lack of trying, This Author was told), said sister recounted to a gaggle of rapt listeners that at a family gathering at Aubrey Hall the previous winter, the Duchess of Hastings not only partook in a lively snowball throwing competition, but she bested all of her participating brothers. The competition was judged by aim, not by distance, and This Author cannot help but think that the duchess’s prowess was in part fueled by the fact that the target was Mr. Colin Bridgerton, who drew the season’s short straw. (It should be noted that Eloise Bridgerton claims to have better aim than all her siblings. It should also be noted that according to several people with direct knowledge of the annual event, she has never drawn the short straw.)
But back to our fair duchess . . . At the Mottram ball last week, Mr. Harry Valentine gallantly saved one of the Smythe-Smith girls from crashing into the lemonade table following an unfortunate turn of events that included a small dog, a large clock, and Lady Danbury’s cane. The duchess had barely recovered from being swept out of the way of the splintering glass by her gallant husband when she rushed over to Mr. Valentine to tend to his newly wounded hand. When complimented on her superior nursing skills and overall lack of squeamishness, the duchess did not so much as look away from her ministrations when she replied, “Four brothers. I have done this before.”
It does make one wonder if there is anything the Duchess of Hastings cannot do.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 1814
THE DUKE AND I
“I want a husband. I want a family. It’s not so silly when you think about it. I’m fourth of eight children. All I know are large families. I shouldn’t know how to exist outside of one.”
* * *
“I knew nothing but love and devotion when I was growing up. Trust me, it makes everything easier.”
* * *
“I could do a great deal worse than follow your example, Mother,” she murmured.
“Why Daphne,” Violet said, her eyes growing watery, “what a lovely thing to say.”
Daphne twirled a lock of her chestnut hair around her finger, and grinned, letting the sentimental moment melt into a more teasing one. “I’m happy to follow in your footsteps when it comes to marriage and children, Mother, just so long as I don’t have to have eight.”
WERE YOU at lady Danbury’s ball last night? If not, shame on you. You missed witnessing quite the most remarkable coup of the season. It was clear to all partygoers, and especially to This Author, that Miss Daphne Bridgerton has captured the interest of the newly returned to England Duke of Hastings.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
30 APRIL 1813
THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME
“We Bridgertons are a bloodthirsty lot, but we do like to follow tradition.”
* * *
“We have no sense of sportsmanship when it comes to Pall Mall. When a Bridgerton picks up a mallet, we become the worst sorts of cheaters and liars. Truly, the game is less about winning than making sure the other players lose.”
THE DUKE AND I
Daphne Bridgerton might be a marriageable female and thus a disaster waiting to happen for any man in his position, but she was certainly a good sport.
She was, it occurred to Simon in a rather bizarre moment of clarity, the sort of person he’d probably call friend if she were a man.
* * *
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Daphne asked pointedly.
Colin shrugged. “Not really.”
“Didn’t,” she asked through clenched teeth, “you just tell me you promised a dance to Prudence Featherington?”
“Gads, no. You must have misheard.”
“Perhaps Mother is looking for you, then. In fact, I’m certain I hear her calling your name.”
Colin grinned at her discomfort. “You’re not supposed to be so obvious,” he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Simon to hear. “He’ll figure out that you like him.”
Simon’s entire body jerked with barely contained mirth.
“It’s not his company I’m trying to secure,” Daphne said acidly, “it’s yours I’m trying to avoid.”
* * *
Men, she thought with disgust, were interested only in those women who terrified them.
* * *
“Most people find me the soul of kindness and amiability.”
“Most people,” Simon said bluntly, “are fools.”
Daphne cocked her head to the side, obviously pondering his words. “I’m afraid I have to agree with you, much as it pains me.”
Simon bit back a smile. “It pains you to agree with me, or that most people are fools?”
“Both.” She grinned again—a wide, enchanting smile that did odd things to his brain. “But mostly the former.”
THE DUKE of Hastings was espied yet again with Miss Bridgerton. (That is Miss Daphne Bridgerton, for those of you who, like This Author, find it difficult to differentiate between the multitudes of Bridgerton offspring.) It has been some time since This Author has seen a couple so obviously devoted to one another.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS
14 MAY 1813
* * *
“A rake’s humor has its basis in cruelty. He needs a victim, for he cannot imagine ever laughing at himself.”
* * *
And she thought—what if she kissed him? What if she pulled him into the garden and tilted her head up and felt his lips touch hers? Would he realize how much she loved him? How much he could grow to love her? And maybe—just maybe he’d realize how happy she made him.
* * *
She tried to say something witty; she tried to say something seductive. But her bravado failed her at the last moment. She’d never been kissed before, and now that she had all but invited him to be the first, she didn’t know what to do.
* * *
“I’ve always known that I wasn’t the sort of woman men dream of, but I never thought anyone would prefer death to marriage with me.”
* * *
“All I want is you,” she whispered. “I don’t need the world, just your love. And maybe,” she added with a wry smile, “for you to take off your boots.”
* * *
“Did you know I have always suspected that men were idiots,” Daphne ground out, “but I was never positive until today.”
IT’S IN HIS KISS
“I cannot feel like a duchess in my mother’s sitting room.”
“What do you feel like, then?” Gareth asked.
“Hmmm.” She took a sip of her tea. “Just Daphne Bridgerton, I suppose. It’s difficult to shed the surname in this clan. In spirit, that is.”
“I hope that is a compliment,” Lady Bridgerton remarked.
Daphne just smiled at her mother. “I shall never escape you, I’m afraid.” She turned to Gareth. “There is nothing like one’s family to make one feel like one has never grown up.”