The Case of the Season

Chapter One

London, 1813

Robin Ballard took a deep breath and steadied herself. She had never expected to be in London for the season, much less presenting herself before the queen, but now she was standing behind Daphne Bridgerton and preparing to follow her into the throne room.

Daphne was also nervous, but only about making the best impression possible. She possessed beauty and grace beyond measure, and Robin knew she could not hope to eclipse, or even equal, it. Daphne also possessed an actual excitement for marriage that Robin simply couldn't muster. Of course, her prospects weren't nearly as good as Daphne's. Not that that would have changed her opinion, but it would have been a factor for most women.

It was still precisely why she was here. Her father hoped that by spending the season in the city, she would be able to secure a proposal from an appropriate man of her station. Though several men had asked her father for her hand, none of them had been of a suitable rank, so he'd turned them all down, perhaps not considering that the abject disrepair of their once grand family estate and her complete lack of a dowry made her not particularly desirable.

Combined with the fact that she was 25 and therefore terrifyingly close to being a spinster, a match didn't seem likely at all. But she had promised to try, and she kept her promises. No matter what, she reasoned, she'd get to experience a London season, which would be good research for her secret career.

From what she had read, there wasn't anything quite like watching eligible young ladies and their conniving mamas do whatever it took to make a husband out of the most dashing gentlemen, all of whom would simultaneously be doing their best to identify the brightest jewel among the aforementioned ladies and win her hand, thereby making every other member of the ton jealous.

It was Daphne's first season, and her mother had been fussing with her grand silk dress, especially the train, ever since they'd arrived. All of the women being presented were required to wear white and gold, and Daphne was positively sparkling. Robin's gown was much simpler, muslin accented with lace and satin, but it was perfectly serviceable. She'd made it herself, just like all of her other gowns, and tied back her hair with bright gold ribbons to make up for the minimal gold accents she'd been able to add to the dress.

Now Violet Bridgerton, who Robin called her aunt for sake of ease, though the family relationship was actually more distant than that, came to stand next to her and adjust those bright gold ribbons. "I'm so sorry, my dear," she apologized. "I've barely been paying attention to you at all. I'm being horribly negligent."

Robin laughed and gave her aunt a brief hug. "Aunt Violet, please. Of course you should be more concerned with your own daughter. It's her first season, and I know how much this will set the stage for your family's future matches. You've done more than enough just allowing me to stay with you. You're being entirely too generous."

"There's no such thing when it comes to family, my dear," Violet replied seriously.

"I am barely family," Robin protested as Violet smoothed her skirt, the shimmering golden thread Robin had used to stitch the dress glinting dimly in the light.

"Nonsense, my dear," Violet corrected her. "It doesn't matter how distantly related we are. As far as I am concerned, you are my niece, and I am going to do my best to find you a match, just as I promised your father I would."

Robin smiled as Violet kissed her cheek. "Well, I will make it as easy for you as possible, Aunt Violet. I promise not to faint like one of the Featherington girls did."

"Then you will be remarkably ahead of not only her, but the majority of the ton, because you are also well-mannered and beautiful, my dear," Violet assured her.

Robin flushed as the doors opened, pleased with the compliment, and also glad that it provided some color for her cheeks in the fraught moment.

Earning the queen's favor today, or not earning her disapproval, at the very least, was critical to a woman's season. It was rather unfair that so much hung on one moment, but that was the way things were. And Robin had learned that although many rules could in fact be broken without repercussion, which ones had to be selected carefully, and all others must be followed precisely to yield the desired results.

"Miss Daphne Bridgerton," the man announced, "and Countess Robin Ballard, presented by the Right Honorable, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton."

Robin barely kept the grimace off her face at her title. It was a meaningless thing, really, since there was no money to back it up, and she rather despised the presumptuous elevation of its use. But it was correct, and necessary, since a man with money might be persuaded to marry her for the title alone, and her aunt knew that very well.

Daphne stepped forward proudly, beaming the whole way. Robin swallowed nervously, then followed, making sure to stay slightly behind Daphne and well to the side of her train.

Though the room was not that long, the walk across the smooth, light wooden boards felt like it took ages. The sense that one was being watched by everyone in attendance was enhanced by the fact that the room was lined from floor to ceiling and wall to wall with portraits.

The queen herself was an imposing figure. Seated on her throne upon the dais and dressed in the French fashion more popular decades ago than the present, she affected an air of disregard that Robin knew was false, but nevertheless remained intimidating.

Robin curtseyed deeply along with Daphne, keeping her head bowed as the queen approached, even though her breath was stuck in her throat. The queen bypassed her entirely, of course, as she declared Daphne flawless, but Robin was more than content to remain unnoticed and firmly in the middle of a vast field of eligible ladies.

When the queen returned to her seat and the audience finished cooing over Daphne, they were allowed to exit the hall. Daphne and her mother squealed excitedly, and Robin returned her cousin's hug enthusiastically.

"Can you believe it?" Daphne whispered excitedly. "She said I was flawless. Flawless!"

"That's because you were," Robin reminded her matter-of-factly. "There's no point in denying the truth."

"You were very wonderful too, cousin," Daphne said diplomatically.

"I was quite tolerable," Robin decided, "and am therefore satisfied."

"You were far more than tolerable," Violet disagreed. "You both did very well, and I am proud of you. Now, come. Let us go home, have a pleasant meal, and make our preparations for the season's first ball."

Robin nodded and followed her aunt and cousin out of the palace. There were to be many balls in her future, and she could only hope that, whatever the season had in store for her, every event would at least be interesting.