She was considering slinking into the ladies’ retiring room when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.
“I say, Daphne, what are you doing all the way over here?”
Daphne looked up to see her eldest brother making his way toward her. “Anthony,” she said, trying to decide if she was pleased to see him or annoyed that he might be coming over to meddle in her affairs. “I hadn’t realized you would be in attendance.”
“Mother,” he said grimly. No other words were necessary.
“Ah,” Daphne said with a sympathetic nod. “Say no more. I understand completely.”
“She made a list of potential brides.” He shot his sister a beleaguered look. “We do love her, don’t we?”
Daphne choked on a laugh. “Yes, Anthony, we do.”
“It’s temporary insanity,” he grumbled. “It has to be. There is no other explanation. She was a perfectly reasonable mother until you reached marriageable age.”
“Me?” Daphne squeaked. “Then this is all my fault? You’re a full eight years older than I am!”
“Yes, but she wasn’t gripped by this matrimonial fervor until you came along.”
Daphne snorted. “Forgive me if I lack sympathy. I received a list last year.”
“Did you?”
“Of course. And lately she’s been threatening to deliver them to me on a weekly basis. She badgers me on the issue of marriage far more than you could ever imagine. After all, bachelors are a challenge. Spinsters are merely pathetic. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m female.”
Anthony let out a low chuckle. “I’m your brother. I don’t notice those things.” He gave her a sly, sideways look. “Did you bring it?”
“My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking?”
His smile widened. “I brought mine.”
Daphne gasped. “You didn’t!”
“I did. Just to torture Mother. I’m going to peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass—”
“You don’t have a quizzing glass.”
He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. “I bought one just for this occasion.”
“Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she’ll find a way to blame me.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Daphne swatted him in the shoulder, eliciting a loud enough grunt to cause a half dozen partygoers to send curious looks in their direction.
“A solid punch,” Anthony said, rubbing his arm.
“A girl can’t live long with four brothers without learning how to throw one.” She crossed her arms. “Let me see your list.”
“After you just assaulted me?”
Daphne rolled her brown eyes and cocked her head in a decidedly impatient gesture.
“Oh, very well.” He reached into his waistcoat, pulled out a folded slip of paper, and handed it to her. “Tell me what you think. I’m sure you’ll have no end of cutting remarks.”
Daphne unfolded the paper and stared down at her mother’s neat, elegant handwriting. The Viscountess Bridgerton had listed the names of eight women. Eight very eligible, very wealthy young women.
“Precisely what I expected,” Daphne murmured.
“Is it as dreadful as I think?”
“Worse. Philipa Featherington is as dumb as a post.”
“And the rest of them?”
Daphne looked up at him under raised brows. “You didn’t really want to get married this year, anyway, did you?”
Anthony winced. “And how was your list?”
“Blessedly out-of-date, now. Three of the five married last season. Mother is still berating me for letting them slip through my fingers.”
The two Bridgertons let out identical sighs as they slumped against the wall. Violet Bridgerton was undeterred in her mission to marry off her children. Anthony, her eldest son, and Daphne, her eldest daughter, had borne the brunt of the pressure, although Daphne suspected that the viscountess might have cheerfully married off ten-year-old Hyacinth if she’d received a suitable offer.
“Good God, you look a pair of sad sorts. What are you doing so far off in the corner?”
Another instantly recognizable voice. “Benedict,” Daphne said, glancing sideways at him without moving her head. “Don’t tell me Mother managed to get you to attend tonight’s festivities.”
He nodded grimly. “She has completely bypassed cajoling and moved on to guilt. Three times this week she has reminded me I may have to provide the next viscount, if Anthony here doesn’t get busy.”
Anthony groaned.
“I assume that explains your flight as well to the darkest corners of the ballroom?” Benedict continued. “Avoiding Mother?”
“Actually,” Anthony replied, “I saw Daff skulking in the corner and—”
“Skulking?” Benedict said with mock horror.
She shot them both an irritated scowl. “I came over to hide from Nigel Berbrooke,” she explained. “I left Mother in the company of Lady Jersey, so she’s not likely to pester me anytime soon, but Nigel—”
“Is more monkey than man,” Benedict quipped.
“Well, I wouldn’t have put it that way precisely,” Daphne said, trying to be kind, “but he isn’t terribly bright, and it’s so much easier to stay out of his way than to hurt his feelings. Of course now that you lot have found me, I shan’t be able to avoid him for long.”
Anthony voiced a simple, “Oh?”
Daphne looked at her two older brothers, both an inch above six feet with broad shoulders and melting brown eyes. They each sported thick chestnut hair—much the same color as her own—and more to the point, they could not go anywhere in polite society without a small gaggle of twittering young ladies following them about.
And where a gaggle of twittering young ladies went, Nigel Berbrooke was sure to follow.
Already Daphne could see heads turning in their direction. Ambitious mamas were nudging their daughters and pointing to the two Bridgerton brothers, off by themselves with no company save for their sister.
“I knew I should have made for the retiring room,” Daphne muttered.
“I say, what’s that piece of paper in your hand, Daff?” Benedict inquired.
Somewhat absentmindedly, she handed him the list of Anthony’s supposed brides.
At Benedict’s loud chortle, Anthony crossed his arms, and said, “Try not to have too much fun at my expense. I predict you’ll be receiving a similar list next week.”
“No doubt,” Benedict agreed. “It’s a wonder Colin—” His eyes snapped up. “Colin!”
Yet another Bridgerton brother joined the crowd.
“Oh, Colin!” Daphne exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Note that we didn’t receive similarly enthusiastic greetings,” Anthony said to Benedict.
“You I see all the time,” Daphne retorted. “Colin’s been away a full year.” After giving him one last squeeze, she stepped back, and scolded, “We didn’t expect you until next week.”