The Bridgerton Eight

The Girl Who Waited For The Break That Didn't Come

Tuesday—November 24th, 2020

Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, lived a little girl and her widowed father in their huge, colorful castle.

Well... It wasn't that long ago. And it wasn't really a faraway kingdom. It only looked far away because you could barely see it through all the smog. And they didn't live in a castle, although Sophie would often pretend they did—it was the marvelous Penwood Hotel, with its great entrance hall, marble columns and the colorful walls that had been painted so to satisfy little Sophie's every whim without any thoughts about decorum or good taste. Still, Penwood's flamboyant decoration never damaged its reputation; it remained to date the only five star-hotel around those parts.

Sophie never met her mother but she had her father all to herself—and a more dedicated father you couldn't find. Sophie never felt like she had missed out on anything. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

Until Araminta Gunningworth, the fabulous New Yorker socialite, setting residence in the tons, came into their lives. That would always be reminded as the day everything started to fall apart in Sophie's life. Her father fell in love—and love was the hole in which he drowned.

At first, Sophie had been pleased when she had heard the news of his engagement. The housekeeper told her that the cook had said that the receptionist had said that her dad had proposed to Araminta, and that she'd come to live in Penwood with them, along with her two daughters, and they were near in age to Sophie. Sophie already had many friends—the waitresses, the bellboy, the caterer—but now she was getting sisters.

And so, one March afternoon, Sophie found herself waiting in the great reception hall along with her father and the assembled crew of the hotel, watching out the open door for the driver to pull up his car. The two young girls stepped out first. They had blonde hair and they wore matching black coats.

As they stepped aside, someone else came out of the car. Sophie's breath caught in her throat as she waited for her new mother to emerge. Her little fingers crossed and a single, "Please," whispered over her lips.

Please let her love me.

Araminta was the most beautiful woman Sophie had ever seen. Elegant down to her toes, with bright eyes, high cheekbones and thick locks of hair. She wore pearls around her neck and blood red lipstick on her mouth. She was beautiful, yes, and proud and elegant, true; but there was something terrifying about her. When Sophie got older, she started to realize it was the smile. Araminta knew to smile in a way entirely her own; a cold, disdainful smile that never, ever reached her eyes.

"You did not say your daughter was so beautiful, Arthur," Araminta purred when Sophie was introduced.

"Yes, thank you. She takes after her—" he stopped.

"Her mother?" Araminta supplied. "Just so." She took a turn around the hall, her eyes narrowing as he took in each one of the colored walls. "Rosamund and Posy have always shared a room," she said. "I can't have them in a confining space. You understand."

That was her chance, Sophie thought, to make Araminta love her. So before her father could speak, she said, "Oh, my suite's the biggest beside daddy's. Maybe they'd like to share it?"

Araminta raised a surprised eyebrow and Arthur Beckett looked proudly at his daughter. "What a wonderful idea," Araminta said. "What a good girl you are." But she somehow made 'good' not sound complimentary at all. "Girls, why don't you thank your new sister, uh?"