"You can't scare away every man who shows up at my door!"
"I can damn well try." He kept his tone quiet as he stepped closer to her. "You have no idea of the grip you have on me Hanford and I'll be damned if you fall in love with someone who isn't m...
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"Grovesnor Square, 1813
Dearest reader,
The time has come to place our bets for the upcoming social season. Consider the household of the Baron Featherington. Three misses foisted upon the marriage market like sorrowful sows by their tasteless, tactless, mama.
"Tighter." Lady Featherington demanded of her dressing maids. Her daughter winced as the corset grew tighter, cutting off any chance to breathe painlessly. Her sisters made faces of empathized pain as they watched and dreaded their turns. Their mother growled out more demands for the corset to be tighter, informing her girls that to be beautiful meant you had to suffer endlessly. Her redheaded daughters didn't agree but couldn't bring themselves to argue. They were all finally of equal age and ready to be presented to their Queen and potential suitors. Their arguments were futile.
Far better odds might exist in the household of the widowed Viscountess Bridgerton. A shockingly prolific family noted for its bounty of perfectly handsome sons and perfectly beautiful daughters. How very perfect indeed!
The Bridgerton household was in a quiet frenzy as everyone prepared themselves for their exciting morning. Three of the sons gathered in the foyer as they waited impatiently for their eldest sister to appear. They heard the annoyed musings of their sister Eloise get closer to them and Benedict approached her in disbelief. "Is our dear sister still not ready?"
"She's only been preparing herself the entire night." His sister Francesca beamed at him whereas Eloise rolled her eyes and fiddled with her lace gloves.
"You mean her entire life." Eloise grumbled. Out of her three sisters, she despised the societal standards and practices the most. Choosing to believe a woman should prioritize education over marriage - an argument her mother had with her daily.
"I shall run upstairs and hasten her along." Colin informed his siblings before making his way towards the stairs.
"Colin wait!" Benedict rushed after him, putting an arm out to stop him. His twin brother Benjamin followed behind dully, the boy not having an interest in the conversation.
"She likes me better than you, Benedict." Colin answered simply.
"Did she say that?" Benedict gaped at him.
"Everyone says that." Colin smirked slightly.
"Is this true?" Benedict turned to his twin, appalled at the notion.
