CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS [BRIDGERTON]

ten.

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𝐭𝐞𝐧: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫
𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. . .

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Augusta followed closely behind Lady Bridgerton, standing between Benedict and Colin. Her eyes locked onto all the paintings displayed on the wall rather than skimming the room of a gentleman she could possibly swoon over. 

The governess knew she stood out like a sore thumb in the room full of eligible ladies and debutantes. They were adorned with exuberant dresses of bright colors and even more exuberant headpieces ranging from bonnets with an array of flowers or an arrangement of feathers or even both.

Augusta on the other hand wore her habitual dull wardrobe. It was not a dull wardrobe for her though; she could care less regarding the clothes she wore or the amount of jewelry she owned. At least she stuck on extra pins onto her bun for it to appear neater than it usually was.

"─ Were I looking for a list of debutatnes and their dubious accomplishments," Viscount Bridgerton began. "I could have stayed home and read Lady Whistledown."

Augusta had to stifle her laughter at the exasperated manner the eldest Bridgerton said the statement. 

When the viscount strode away from his mama, Violet Bridgerton grabbed her second son's hand who immediately protested in a less than articulated manner. 

"No, no, no, no." Benedict fussed whilst he shook his head. As he was breaking free from his mama's scheme for him to meet an eligible wife, he discreetly reached for Augusta's wrist and tugged her along with him. 

"Mr. Bridgerton," Augusta began, an amused smile on her lips. "Are you frightened of possibly meeting your future wife?" 

The two fell into a steady pace as they walked around the room, maintaining a suitable distance from each other though their arms still brushed past against their companion's every now and then. Benedict had his arms crossed over his chest while Augusta kept hers locked behind her back, her fingers intertwining. They were looking for a worthy painting to admire.