My Maggie,

VIII

"Tell me your joking!" Matilda Featherington exclaimed as the two girls promenaded through Abbeymoore park, their arms linked together as they strolled past the beautiful trees that danced in the wind. 

"No," Margret announced with a chuckle, "after Ophelia rejected him he actually pivoted and asked me." 

"The audacity of that man," Matilda chuckled, "apparently he even asked Daphne Bridgerton after his visit to you."

"Really?" Exclaimed Margret, "Rather eager is that Lord Danvery." 

"Seems so." Agreed Matilda, "Eloise told Penelope, apparently her brother is considering the courtship." 

"Goodness no." Margret said as the pair sat on a bench by the fountain, "Daphne is far to lovely and kind to fall for such a pig headed man." Margret stated. 

"I completly agree," Matilda spoke elegantly, "poor Colin was beside himself, even came to ask Penelope to occupy Daphne." 

Margret tried to place which one Colin could possibly be, for there were so many bridgertons. All extremely attractive yet untouchable, she knew a few from passing and chatter from her brother and she obviously knew Violet, for she was close with Margret's own mother.

"Which one is Colin, I never quite remember." 

Matilda showed a slight smirk as she remembered the brief interaction she had had with Colin just minutes ago about the girl that sat beside her. 

'Oh you know Colin," Margret said swatting a hand, "The third born, very dark eyes and dark brown hair, very calming temperament and rather funny some would say." 

"Extrenly generic description Mat."

'Well how else am I meant to describe him, he's a Bridgerton. They are the top trophies of society, honestly I don't understand how you don't know him." 

Margret simply shrugged her shoulder and looked around the park to check on her sister who had promised would stay close. 

Naturally the youngest Nighthower girl had somehow accumulated a audience of sorts, many eyes watched carefully as the girl drew on the gravel that created the path using her crayons. A few gasps and claps was enough for both girls to make there way toward Angelica. 

Beneath them was a beautiful grafeti of peoples shadows walking behind people, it was beautiful, the detail she had put into the people and the darkness of their shadows. Angelica truly was a beautiful artist. 

Various compliments showered Angelica as the girl took a delicate bow, before picking up her pastells and placing them back into her basket and joining her sister. 

The trio began to walk back toward Grovernors square as the sun began to set. After all there was only three more hours until the upcoming ball was to begin.