The Bridgerton Eight

That Will Come Back To Bite You

Thursday—November 26th, 2020

Night of Lady Danbury's Thanksgiving Bash, 8h15pm

There was no way Daphne could have refused.

First of all, her mother was impaling her with her deadly I-Am-Your-Mother-Don't-You-Dare-Defy-Me gaze.

Secondly, Daphne didn't particularly relish getting drawn into a conversation with the Featheringtons, which was sure to happen if she didn't make immediate haste for the dance floor.

And finally, she kind of sort of just a little teeny bit actually wanted to dance with him.

Of course the arrogant boor didn't even give her the chance to accept. Before Daphne could manage a mere, "Yes," he had her halfway across the room.

"Thank God you didn't refuse," he said with great feeling.

"It's not like you gave me the chance."

He cocked his head and gave her a rather assessing glance, as if he had analyzed her personality in an instant and decided she might just be acceptable. Daphne found the experience somewhat unnerving.

They had made a full circle of the ballroom before she teased, "Weren't you just dying to see me again? I saw how you rushed to my side as soon as you spotted me."

Simon smiled. "Your brother didn't give me a choice."

"Of course not."

"You're a welcome sight though," he added. "When I think of everyone else I met here."

She smiled slightly at the compliment. "So you haven't been enjoying your evening?"

Simon's answer was so unequivocally in the negative that he actually snorted a laugh before saying it.

"Really?" Daphne replied, her brows arching with curiosity. "Now that is interesting."

"I can think of any number of adjectives to describe all of the 'whoms' I have had the pleasure of meeting this evening, but 'interesting' is not one of them."

"Now, now," she chided, "don't be rude. I did see you chatting with my brothers, after all."

He nodded gallantly. "My apologies. The Bridgertons are, of course, excluded from my insults."

"And we are so relieved."

Simon cracked a smile at her deadpan wit. "I live to make Bridgertons happy."

"Now that's a statement that will come back to bite you," she warned.

He decided to change the subject. "Are you ready to tell me what you were doing at Global Hastings the other day?"

"It kills you, doesn't it?" she said softly, a wicked little smile crossing her lips. She was enjoying this a lot more than it was wise. "Not knowing everything about everybody?"

He said nothing, just arched one arrogant brow.

"To answer your question," she continued, her voice a touch more brittle than he was accustomed to hearing from her, "I went to ask Eric Macclesfield for money. Not a very honorable visit, I know. But I need to buy a place for my shop and I just about ran out of options."

"A shop?" He frowned.

"I started a business of my own. Daffiness," she told him, eyes lighting with pride. "I make clothes and I sell them. Accessories, too, but I doubt you're the type to accessorize. It's been growing well, thank you very much, but I need more room to expand. I'm currently renting the backroom of the public library. Doesn't exactly scream glamour."