| NOBELS | BRIDGERTON

4 | TRUTHS & LIES

     OPHELIA LEFT THE conservatory glancing around as she heard Antony's voice but did not know where he was. 

"Is one lady unlike the other?" Ophelia turned her head, seeing Antony with a few other gentlemen.

"Simply pick the least objectionable and get her wed, bed and bred. Then you can return to more pleasurable pursuits." One of the men spoke.

"And more pleasurable partners." The group of men let out some laughs.

Ophelia walked down the steps, somewhat hiding behind bush closer to the men, hearing Antony speak. "You may be cavalier, but I if must leg-shackle myself in marriage, the lady in question should have more to recommend her."

One of the men sighed playfully. "Do not tell us you are hoping for a love match?"

"Love is the last thing I desire. But if my children are to be of good stock, then their mother must be of impeccable quality." 

The girl scoffed quietly, he had just proven Ophelia right in her thoughts of how men view women. 

"A pleasing face, an acceptable wit, genteel manners enough to credit a viscountess. It should not be so hard to find. And yet, the debutantes of London fall short at every turn."

"You want the best." One spoke. "Perhaps the Queen will finally name a diamond Save you some trouble. At least, of choosing her. Wooing the piece will be a different story, indeed."

Antony shook his head. "I shall have no problem there."

There was a collective chuckle before one spoke. "Smoking room, gentlemen?"

"I shall be there anon." Antony replied.

At least he doesn't smoke, Ophelia thought, deciding to leave as their conversation had finished. She turned to walk away but accidentally kicked into a bucket of gardening tools. She cursed quietly under her breath as Antony called out to whoever was there. He came down the stairs and his face dropped when his eyes landed on Ophelia.

"You."

"Pardon me, my lord."

"Were you spying?"

"I was seeing if you would prove me right in my thoughts, you have and I am not the least bit surprised."

"So you were?"

Ophelia scoffed. "It was hardly an effort, seeing as you were proclaiming your many requirements for a wife loud enough for the entire party to hear."

"You take issue with my requirements?"

"I take issue with any man who sees women as breeding stock."

He shook his head. "None of that was meant-"

"Lord Bridgerton, when you manage to find this paragon of virtue, whatever makes you think she will accept your suit? Are the young debutantes so easily won by a pleasing smile and absolutely nothing more?"

Antony smirked. "You find my smile pleasing?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high. Your character is as deficient as your horsemanship."

"What happened to you?" He suddenly asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have always been headstrong but never mean, never openly expressed your opinion as much. You wanted to find a husband, now you have your own requirements."

Ophelia stared at him. "I lost my father, Antony, and the last thing he told me was to find a husband in ones dearest friend. And I would never have a friend who thinks like you. I shall bid you goodnight."

Antony watched her leave, saying what he heard back in his head. He rethought their conversation, he did feel somewhat bad for what Ophelia had been through and it made him think of how he had changed when his father had passed. 

Ophelia walked through the party, finding Phillip quite easily, he was once again looking over at Kate who was stood beside her mother and Lady Danbury. "Brother, can we leave?"

"Leave?" He asked. "I must inform Lady Sharma-"

"I shall inform the Sharma's, you find Thomas."

Ophelia went up to Kate and Mary, just as Edwina had finished her fifth dance of the night. "We are to return home. Phillip is finding my brother."

Mary looked at her. "What about Edwina's prospects."

"Leaving early does attract more attention, I assure you, it makes her seem even more desirable."

There is nothing quite like the sweet-scented smell of success. But after taking in the scene from last night's festivities, it is clear that this season won't be quite so fragrant for everyone. The Viscount Bridgerton's own mama may have loudly declared her eldest son's lofty intentions to marry, yet I cannot be the only one wondering if this former Capital-R Rake is, indeed, ready to flourish. Perhaps the Viscount, like the rest of us, is simply waiting for the Queen to finally name her diamond. Or perhaps this author should take matters into her own hands. 

Though, of the many purportedly well-trained and bred hothouse flowers on display this year, this author must wonder if a more surprising choice might still be in store. Which ever darling miss receives such high esteem, let us hope there is a suitor available for only the sharpest wit, lest his dry musings leave a young lady wilting like a parched rose.

Ophelia had met with many suitors the following morning, she seemed to have a much easier time then Edwina as Kate kept getting in the way, a lot of the men thought Edwina was most amazing but that Kate was too overbearing. Ophelia understood that she only wanted the best for Edwina but maybe the best for her was not the best for Kate herself.

Later on that day, Phillip had received a letter from the Sheffields, Mary's parents. He had found out through this letter why the Sharma's, more specifically Kate, had come to London to wed off her sister. If Edwina marries a man of English nobility, the Sheffields would give her a sizable dowry and look after Mary. Kate seemed to get nothing out of this and she seemed fine by that, her sister was her main priority. Phillip has spoken to Kate about this but decided to keep it a secret between the two, of course he tried to convince her to tell her sister, but Kate merely brushed it aside.

Formed by pressure, desired by many, yet possessed only by a fortunate few, there is nothing on earth quite so envied as a diamond.