WILLPOWER [a.b.]

0.2

TWO

"your heart tells you big things in little ways... listen"
-butterflies rising

**

THE BALL THAT FOLLOWED the presentation of the debutants is a highly anticipated tradition among the ton. Everyone rushes home following the morning's festivities in order to change into their even more elaborate evening attire, and prepare tediously for the first social event of the season.

Women of various titles and impeccable breeding are dressed in layers upon layers of soft silks, intricate tule, and hand stitched lace, only then to be topped by an abundance of their most extravagant jewelry. This night is revered as one of the most important nights, seeing as how the impression one made would presumably follow them the rest of the summer. The youngest ladies of London are held under especially high pressure to make a splendid imprint. It was an unspoken competition of who could attract the most attention from their male counterparts, setting a precedent for the amount of callers to follow the next day.

And although the idea of outward beauty being the primary reason for the procurement of a male's affection was terribly bleak, it was also the foundation which most relationships were built.

Emma Dawson's parents, the Duke and Dutchess of Blackstow met at the ripe age of eighteen and twenty-two. The way her mother looked that night was regal. "Unbelievably stunning" were her father's words when he recited the story of how they locked eyes across the very ballroom she stood in now. There was no denying her mother was the diamond of all diamonds, her beauty, sweetness, and acuity charmed society effortlessly. It was quite the reputation to live up to. Even if her parents didn't pressure her as much as others do their own children, she knew they wished their daughter would be less outspoken at times and more agreeable, especially when it came to the topic of marriage.

In an effort to appease the Duke and Duchess Emma stood at the entrance to the Danbury Ball, her arm looped through that of Benedict Bridgerton. He was acting as her escort seeing as it Anthony and Violet were going to be occupied with Daphne the rest of the night. The blonde didn't mind though, she found Benedict's company to be much more agreeable than his brother's uptight scolding.

Last year Anthony was forced by his mother to be Emma's escort to several balls seeing as he was the oldest male family member. It could've been a pleasant enough experience if he hadn't felt the need to spend the entire time whining about her lack of complicity. He thought she was foolish to waste time waiting for such irrational things as intimacy and passion when there were plenty of suitable men who wished to give her a comfortable life.

Perhaps if she could convince Benedict to dance with her a couple of times throughout the night it may discourage Lady Danbury herself from taking Emma on a walk about the room. She despised the idea of being paraded like a peacock for onlookers to gaze upon. The mothers would talk and the other girls would glare, while the bachelors shamelessly let their eyes roam about her body.

Emma, Benedict and Collin had barely set foot inside of the ballroom before they were descended upon instantly by the woman they all hoped to avoid.

"Incoming. Straight ahead." Collin quickly whispered from behind them.

Before Emma even had the chance to process what was happening both Bridgerton brothers split, heading separate directions and disappearing into the crowds. Benedict muttering an apology before he slipped away.

That was when she finally caught sight of Lady Danbury floating her across the floor. Her eyes locked on the young blonde.

Emma painted a perfect smile across her face and straightened her back. It wasn't that Lady Danbury was a particularly unpleasant person, in fact she was quite delightful. However, she was a gossiper and she was most definitely a match maker. The latter was a sentiment that Emma didn't particularly appreciate.