Chapter Text
Apprehension, anxiety and even a bit of fear clouded the air around them, though Kate could not deny the twinge of excitement that coursed through her body as she entered the ballroom. Her first ball. Of course, it was under less than ideal circumstances. For one, they were far away from home: thrown into the unknown, hurled into a society that would likely not accept them. And further, it was their last chance. The funds had run low, so low in fact that Kate had accepted the Sheffield’s offer to return. Indeed, with mixed emotions the Sharma’s stepped into the light. There was no turning back now.
Kate mulled over her purpose as her sister giddily looked around the room, taken aback by the elaborate decorations. She turned her head toward Edwina, her mouth forming a small smile. At least Edwina was excited, and Kate would do everything to keep it that way. There was no reason to burden her with the realities of their situation. No, with Lady Danbury’s expert help, Kate was sure Edwina would make a most advantageous match, and at the same time marry for love. There was no other choice.
Slowly rubbing her hands against her elegant gown, Kate decided right at that moment that nothing would get in the way. She would see that her sister and mother were taken care of; it was the most important, and only thing, on her list of things to do while in England.
“Oh Kate!” Edwina exclaimed, lightly grabbing her sister’s arm, “Is it not beautiful? It is just like all of the stories you used to read to me!” Edwina’s eye grew wide and glimmered in the light. Her hair perfectly tousled to look put together but still young and desirable. She would do well on the marriage mart, indeed.
Kate quietly laughed, “Yes, Bon. It is quite elaborate!”
A sudden clearing of a throat interrupted their revelry. Kate turned her head sharply to the offending sound. “I will take that as a compliment, Miss Sharma, though I do detect some slight mockery in your tone.” Lady Danbury smirked at the obstinate young lady. Her eyes held Kate’s gaze, shining with unbidden humor.
Kate opened her mouth to apologize but Lady Danbury was too quick, “Hush. I may be old but I understand humor. Though you will find, Miss Sharma, that my ball is not nearly as ornate as the others you will see this season. Now, follow me while I give you the lay of the land.”
Kate, her sister, and her mother followed the Dowager to the edge of the dance floor. The room was buzzing, a plethora of debutantes bouncing on the sidelines just waiting to be whisked to the floor by some handsome eligible bachelor. Kate idly wondered if she would see the mystery man from the other morning. She dashed the thought from her mind as quickly as it entered. Tonight is not about you. None of this is about you, she thought to herself.
While Edwina busied herself with gushing to her mother over the flowers chosen for the decor, Kate moved closer to Lady Danbury. Realistically, she knew the two of them should work together to find Edwina her match, but Kate was unsure if Lady Danbury was aware of what was best for her sister. Yes, a titled man was a requirement for the dowry (which Kate was sure Lady Danbury had no idea about), but first and most important was finding Edwina a love match, something she was unsure the Dowager would care about.
“Lady Danbury, perhaps you can show me some of the eligible bachelors for Edwina, that way I can start composing a list for her to look over,” Kate said as gently as she could. She knew she had been curt with Lady Danbury earlier in the day, and she did not wish to ruin her friendship with the lady before it even began.
Lady Danbury gave her a questioning look, seeming to find the idea of Kate composing a list slightly ridiculous. Nonetheless, she acquiesced and began discussing the Marquees in the corner.
Kate outwardly scoffed; the short redhead was far too young for Edwina. She was beginning to question Lady Danbury’s expertise and slightly rolled her eyes.
The eye roll caught Lady Danbury’s attention, and she gave Kate a wicked smile. Kate immediately knew she had made an error, especially when Lady Danbury turned to an older gentleman in front of her. “Ah, the Earl of Gloucester. His Wife recently died of influenza. He might make a particularly estimable addition to your dance card this evening, Miss Sharma,” Lady Danbury teased.
Kate’s answer came quick, “I will not be taking to the floo-“
“Oh come off it, Miss Sharma!” Lady Danbury gleefully interrupted, “You are hardly a spinster, though I see you are compelled to dress as such.” She pointedly glared at Kate’s hair. “If you will not think of yourself, think of your family. Making a match with the Earl would not only elevate your status and keep you in comfort for the rest of your life but it would also benefit your mother and your sister.”
“My sister will not need my help when she makes her own match, and when she does, she will have more than enough to take care of Mary.” Kate replied. She glanced at the Earl in question, and had to admit to herself, she could do much worse.
"Yes, that’s if your sister weds this season. And what if she decides she does not want a titled man?” Lady Danbury kept her eyes straight though her tone become fierce, “I know then the Sheffield’s will withdraw from this silly agreement they’ve roped you into.”
Kate’s mouth fell open slightly, her eyebrows scrunched and her pupils dilated, “Lady Danbury,” she started, trying to find the words to continue.
“Yes, I know of your little scheme, Miss Sharma. I know all that happens under my roof,” she turned her head to give Kate a steely gaze.
Seconds passed before Kate whispered, “It is not what you think. I am not doing this for nefarious reasons, or even for myself,” she took a deep breath, slowly breathing out, glancing at the ground to hide her face from the Ton, “We ran out of money, this was our last option. I only want what is best for my sister and for Mary,” Kate finished, lifting her head to meet Lady Danbury’s gaze. She would not cower, she would not show fear; Kate knew better than to let anyone see your weaknesses, for if someone were to see such vulnerability, it could be used against her.
Lady Danbury’s eyes softened, “I figured as much. Agreements such as this are not uncommon within the Ton,” Lady Danbury softly clacked her cane on the ground, “But it speaks to my point even more. Why rely on relations that cannot be trusted when you can make a perfectly good match for yourself?”
Kate gently shook her head as if to clear the thoughts from her mind. She thought about what Lady Danbury was saying and started to understand that the insolent woman was not wrong. Kate could not wholly trust the Sheffield’s at their word; they disowned Mary, their only daughter, and made no efforts to try and get to know herself or Edwina. Was Kate’s initial plan to leave for India after Edwina’s wedding selfish? To put all the onus to wed on her sister while Kate watched from the edge of the dance floor. Kate never believed she would be able to get married, at her age without a dowry, she figured she would have few prospects. But perhaps with Lady Danbury’s help that need not be her fate.
A light smile graced Kate’s face. She may not find a love match like Edwina, and she may only marry a man who views her as means to an end. But it could be nice to be courted, properly, like the stories she used to read. It might be nice to feel wanted for once, even if it was all a farce just to gain her hand.
Her posture became straighter, her white dress sparkling in the candlelight. What was the worst that could happen? She could receive no offers – but would that be so different than what she was expecting anyway? Perhaps she should let the Dowager try to work her magic. If nothing were to come of it, she could still return to India once her sister was wed. Surely she could dance a few dances at a ball and maybe promenade a few times with a caller and still be able to guide Edwina to a match. She had dealt with many more obstacles in India, balancing multiple things at once was never a hardship for her.
She felt lighter than she had in many years, even if she did not end the season with a match there was no reason for her not to enjoy the few moments she had. She had never had dresses so fine, or horses so fast. It could be nice to pretend to belong for once.
With a smirk still gracing her face and a large breath of air releasing through her nose she turned to Lady Danbury, “Let’s make the introduction then, shall we?”
Lady Danbury gaped at her. She knew she was a master at convincing people to do things they otherwise did not want to do, but she had expected Miss Sharma to put up a bit of a fight. The thought overtook the widow that perhaps this was something that Miss Sharma actually did want to do; that her indifferent visage she had plastered on her face since arriving was just a mask hiding a girl who wished to be accepted, to be desired. Lady Danbury laughed out loud, well, if the girl secretly wanted to be courted who was she to sit back and do nothing? “Miss Sharma, you continue to surprise me, come along!”
She charged forward leaving Kate in her wake. Kate quickly looked over at her sister. Edwina and Mary tossed their heads in confusion as Lady Danbury crossed the floor. Kate turned to her family, “It seems I have been summoned. I will return shortly; perhaps you two can fetch some lemonade. By time you return Lady Danbury and I will be back at your sides.”
Her sister smiled, excited to just move around the room and be seen. “Yes, mama! That sounds delightful, let us get a drink and then return.” Edwina grabbed her mother’s arm and started dragging her to the refreshments. Kate made haste to match Lady Danbury’s pace.
When Kate finally caught up to Lady Danbury, the woman was already conversing with the Earl. Kate stood an appropriate distance back until she was called. She took one step toward Lady Danbury. The Dowager whisked her head to look at her, “Ah! Just the lady I was speaking about! Lord Gloucester, may I introduce Miss Kate Sharma.”
Kate stepped closer to meet the man’s gaze. She had to admit, he was not terrible looking. His countenance was kind and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her. “It is wonderful to meet you, Miss Sharma. Lady Danbury certainly speaks highly of you.” He took her gloved hand and placed a kiss on the top of it.
Kate felt heat travel up her body covering her face in a small blush, “The pleasure is all mine, My Lord.” She looked at him intently as he grabbed a dance card Lady Danbury had somehow produced. The insane woman must have pocketed the dance card Kate so poignantly made sure not to wear.
“I hope you do not mind if I claim a dance?” The Earl whispered. After scribbling in his name, he handed the dance card to her and helped place it on her wrist.
Kate felt so unsure of herself, but also felt an excitement she had not felt in some time. She did not know if she could like this man, but the thought of dancing at least once this season, and being asked to do so, made her feel an anticipation she had not felt since meeting her mystery man in the park at dawn. “I look forward to it, My Lord.” And even if nothing came of the Earl of Gloucester, what could possibly go wrong? If the man turned out to be a bumbling idiot she could write it off as a story she could tell her future nephew and nieces. And certainly, if he was boring she could at least ply the man for information on the other eligible gentlemen, it would help her find out who was worthy of Edwina and who was not.
What could go wrong, indeed!
Entering Lady Danbury’s ball that night was not last on the list of things Anthony Bridgerton wished to do but it certainly was circling close to the bottom. He decided that it was certainly better than watching another stupid man bumble his way through an excruciatingly long speech in Parliament but decided it was much worse than listening to Eloise prattle on about philosophers and women’s lack of independence (Both of which he hated). He should have known better than to call out the sparse crop of eligible ladies. He should have understood that his mother, in her desperate attempt to see him married, would make a scene. He should have realized that he would be inundated with particularly boring debutantes who had nothing of interest to say. Truly, he thought to himself, do none of them have a thought of their own?
His mind went back to the woman in the park. She certainly was not afraid to have opinions. She had bantered with him, spurring him on with an edge in her voice that he wished to hear again. Her braid swaying lightly in the wind, her long leg highlighted in the sunlight as she rode astride, it was enough to make a man go mad. He had not been able to get the image of her thigh out of his mind since the meeting. What he would give to slowly drag his hand across that smooth skin.
He felt something sharp lightly hitting his side and he was quickly brought back from his reverie. He glared at his mother whose elbow was lightly stabbing him. She lifted her eyebrows at him, and tilted her head toward the ladies who stood in front of him, as if to say, ask one to dance, you fool, he audibly huffed. “Excuse me, ladies, I see my sister calling me over, I will return shortly.” Without a second glance at his mother, he spurred to make his escape.
Tucking his body into the corner of the ballroom, he mentally chastised himself. He was the one who declared he would find a wife this year, not his mother. He should not be so angry with her, but he could not get over the fact that she was aggravating to no end. Every chit she threw his way was highly unsuitable. His interviews with the ladies had gone terribly so far. If a lady had one quality he was looking for, she was lacking three others. It should not be so hard to find a lady of the Ton who could fulfill his list.
Dutiful? It should come naturally if they had been raised by a proper family. Tolerable? That should not be so difficult since he planned to spend little time with his future wife. A pleasing countenance would be nice, and he thought there would be plenty to pick from. Suitable enough hips for childbearing? That would be easy to suss out. And lastly, someone with half a brain! He supposed that would be the hardest to find, but as he said, it was not so much a requirement as it was a preference.
He had figured his search would be over within a fortnight, but the ladies of the Ton had been falling short at every turn. Perhaps it is you, he thought, You are falling short. He banished the thought from his head. Love could have no place in his marriage, so why was he finding it so hard to choose a wife? And not even a wife, he could not even find a contender.
A smaller part of his brain told him to just wait until the Queen declared a diamond. It will be easy, then. He told himself, The Queen will deem her the best, and I shall have the best and it will be done. It may not be a bad plan, at this point it did not matter who the Queen chose as long as it was not a Lady he had already dismissed. He was getting tired of his search. He tugged on his waistcoat, and smoothed down the buttons. He took a deep breath, feeling slightly overwhelmed, a familiar feeling of unease was starting to prickle his senses. Panic. He quietly thought to himself. He leaned his back against the wall, hoping to disappear. He thought about escaping the ballroom to breathe in the fresh air but was stopped when the dance began. To cross the ballroom now would bring too much attention to him and he did not wish to speak with anyone.
As if he could read Anthony’s thoughts Benedict leaned back next to him, ready to invade his silence and annoy him with his very presence. “You cannot hide here forever, brother. Mother is bound to find you here at some point and throw you in some misses way.”
“Where is Eloise?” Anthony deflected. He clenched his fists slightly. He was truly in no mood to play this game. He had not gotten the unease under control just yet and his breathing was coming in quick spurts.
Benedict snorted, “Good God Anthony, I won’t tell mother you are hiding in the corner, do not exert yourself.” He gave Anthony’s chest a double pat in an effort to calm him; it did not work. “Eloise is with Penelope.”
Anthony rolled his eyes, “She should be partaking in the dancing or at least speaking to people who –“ he stopped himself. He told himself he would not do what he did last season. He would allow Eloise to make her own choices, within reason, and he would not be an overbearing presence in her courtships, should she have any. But damn-it if old habits did not die hard, and he was her eldest brother after all. “She should at least be trying, but I understand why she wishes to run. I certainly wish I stayed home tonight.” He looked out at the dance floor; it truly was a sparse crop this year.
Benedict let out a soft chuckle, “You do not see a muse among them?” He made a play of lifting on his toes to get a better look. “None of them good enough to be the next Viscountess Bridgerton? Perhaps you should lower your stand-“ Benedict paused and truly lifted onto his toes. Stretching his neck to look over other dancing couples, “Who is that?” he quietly exclaimed, “I’ve certainly never seen her before!”
Benedict looked at Anthony, his eyes scrunched together in question. The Bridgertons knew everyone, and everyone wanted to know them. It was odd for a new lady to enter the season without the Bridgertons knowing of them. Benedict knew this, as just a few weeks prior he and Anthony sat in their Father’s study going over the debutantes entering the season. Benedict had made it a point to let Anthony know that one of the ladies he was interviewing was a terrible dancer.
Anthony’s interest was piqued. “Where?” He also straightened to his feet and stretched his neck.
“Right there!” Benedict cocked his head in the direction of the lady in question, “She’s quite pretty.” He finished.
“Have you found your own muse?” Anthony joked, “Quick, find Mother, perhaps if you marry this season I can delay my own at least one more year,” His head continued making small movements trying to find the lady Benedict was focused on.
“Do not even joke about that, Anthony. I can appreciate beauty without trying to run to the alter,” His gaze stayed steady on the floor, “I have seen no one like her before though. She looks nothing like the other ladies of the Ton. I wish I had my paints.”
“Oh good God, Benedict.” Anthony rolled his eyes, “Leave the poetry at home for one –“ His voice trailed off, his eyes finally zeroed in on the spot his brother was gazing, his lips parted slightly. It was her. It was his Lady from the park. He watched in silence as she gracefully moved across the floor, the light catching her eyes as they glittered while she smiled.
Her hair was pinned up in a more severe up-do, but as she turned on the floor a few pieces escaped the pins grasp. Anthony thought they framed her face in the most delightful way, though he was partial to the braid she had worn while they raced. So caught up in his thoughts he almost forgot Benedict was next to him. He felt his brother’s gaze turn to him, it burned a hole though his cheek.
“Sparse crop, is it not Anthony?” Benedict lifted his eyebrow and his lips formed a smirk.
Anthony huffed and flicked his hand at his brother to shoo him off. Benedict stayed in place, his eyes moving from the unknown lady back to his brother. His eyes did this a few more times, trying to assess his next steps.
Lost in the vision of her dancing, Anthony had not even stopped to think that if she was on the floor dancing that meant she was dancing with another. The thought made his stomach clench and he did not know why. His eyes slowly left her lithe figure to find whoever was standing across from her. His eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Lord Gloucester!,” he spat the name as if it was poison.
Benedict stepped back, surprised, “Is there something wrong with him as a dance partner?”
“His Wife just died! Does the man know no decency?” It was ridiculous. If Anthony had been thinking logically he would know it was ridiculous but Anthony was not thinking logically and he could not make sense of it. It should not bother him that she was dancing with someone else, but it did. The idea that the Earl of Gloucester learned her name before he had was unfathomable.
“You should ask her to dance.”
Anthony snapped his head toward his brother, “I beg your pardon?”
“I said,” Benedict continued slowly, “You should ask her to dance.”
“Why ever would I do that?” Anthony questioned, he turned back to watch the lady finish the last few steps.
Benedict rolled his eyes and sighed, “Because you look at her the way I look at a finished painting.”
“No.” He said firmly. Anthony could not ask her to dance. At least, not yet; he was not ready. His heart was racing in his chest, and his breath quickened. The way she affected him was frightening him. He did not even know her name and yet his body felt like it was on fire. He wished he could pull his cravat off in order to take a deeper breath.
Benedict grabbed Anthony by the shoulder, “Well if you will not then I will.”
Anthony forcefully knocked his brother’s hand from his shoulder, “You will not!” he demanded. He clenched his jaw as the two brothers stared at each other.
Benedict bounced on his feet and smiled conspiratorially, “I think I will.” He swiveled his body to walk over to the lady, but before he could move Anthony grabbed him and halted him.
“Stop.” Anthony said simply. A thousand thoughts were flowing through his head, but he could not find the words to articulate them.
“Why?”
Anthony wanted to tell him it was because he had seen the Lady first. He wanted to declare that if any Bridgerton were to dance with her it would be him. He wanted to shout that he had been thinking about her nonstop from their first meeting. But his mouth would not form the words, so in its stead he shrugged, “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Benedict raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, “I’m afraid that is not enough reason for me brother,” He pulled himself from his brother’s grasp and went to cross the floor. He slyly looked back to see his brother in an inner turmoil, he had to laugh to himself. “I cannot wait to tell Colin all about this,” he murmured under his breath as he sought the lady out.
Anthony leaned back against the wall, intent on disappearing again. He watched as his brother approached Lady Danbury to receive an introduction, and he bristled as he watched Benedict write his name in her dance card. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself. So his brother was asking his unknown lady to dance, it hardly meant they were headed to the alter. Benedict is not even looking to marry, he reminded himself, He is doing this to get a rise out of me, he tried to convince himself. But Benedict had called her pretty. He had stated he wished to paint her, had he not? He was Anthony’s brother after all; it would not be surprising if they both saw the beauty she radiated.
Anthony audibly growled. No, Benedict was merely asking a lady who was new to society to dance. He was being a gentleman. Men were expected to ask ladies to dance at balls, after all; it hardly signified a courtship. He breathed a little easier. Yes, he said to himself, Benedict is merely being a good member of the Ton. What could go wrong?
What could go wrong, indeed!