My Maggie,

XVIII

As the Bridgerton carriage pulled up to the garden a squeal of annoyance fell from Hyacinths mouth. "Gregory stop pulling on my dress!"

"Why don't you keep your dress to yourself, its draped all over me."

"Mother!"

"Gregory stop pulling her dress and Hyacinth try to contain your dress and the both of you stop talking." Violet said exasperated. 

As the carriage finally stopped and the sound of the pebbles beneath halted the family stepped out of the carriage. Almost immediately Hyacinth and Gregory had run off, beaming toward Angelica Nighthower who was currently stuffing her face full of the hors d'oeuvres claiming they were free. 

As soon as he registered the youngest Nighthowers is eyes subconsciously started searching for the girl he can't get out of his head. It confused him, the pair had hardly spoken, for all he knew she could be insane however since he saw her he felt his pull, like a magnet. Then that night when she had ran from the ball and just looked at the stars. Her beauty was unfathomable, that's the first time the pair spoke and honestly could be the only time. It was certainly the only time the pair had been alone, and the desire to be alone with her again was excruciating. To be only be in her presence, for her to have her focus solely on him, even for a moment. She is like a drug and for just one second of her gaze, he would do anything. 

He heard her before his eyes registered her figure, that laugh that came from the heavens, instantly calming him. Looking over he saw her next to Matilda Featherington. Her blue dress was simple yet elegant and was possibly his favourite dress he had seen her in.  As if feeling his gaze Margrets head turned toward the boy and her brown eyes instantly captured his. Once again it was as if time had stopped, as if everyone in the world had disappeared, except her. Before Colin could even register what was going on his shoe had made contact with the grass and his legs were carrying him down the bank, across the bright green grass, toward the brown eyed girl in the sky blue dress. 

Margret could feel her heart in her throat, he was walking toward her, looking right at her, there was no denying it, his gaze was penetrative, unescapable, yet Margret felt she would never want to stop seeing those eyes. The eyes that somehow simultaneously calmed her and Brough a sense of nervousness to her stomach. He was ten feet away. Five now. She kept looking straight into his deep brown eyes until they were practically toe to toe. 

"Matilda," Colin greeted the blonde girl beside Margret, yet his eyes didn't meet hers, this gaze still locked on the brown pools in the Nighthower girls eyes. 

"Well hello Colin," Matilda welcomed back, a smug grin had fallen upon her face as she watched the intense eye contact between her best friend and the Bridgerton boy. "Oh my its seems your brother is in distress over there." Matilda exclaimed.

That snapped Margrets gaze over to Gilbert who seemed perfectly happy talking with Miss Lau'rent. She let her eyes scan the crowd until she found an uncomfortable looking Tobias talking with a black haired girl whom shed never seen before. "I better go rescue him." Margret said, a sudden sadness falling on her yet she didn't understand why. 

"Don't you worry I'm on it." Margret said talking one last prawn from a random cocktail glass, "you stay, discuss, lovely to see you Mr Bridgerton."

"Always  a pleasure Miss Featherington." 

With that Matilda slanted over toward the elder Bridgerton, her delicate hand sliding over his biceps she said something immediately making the black hair beauty huff out in annoyance and saunter off. A silence fell amongst the two as they let their eyes travel down one another. Colin looked dashing, Margret thought to herself. A white dress shirt with dark navy dress trousers, due to the heat, his sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows exposing his arms which were defined with veins. "You look lovely Maggie." He whispered out, his eyes meeting hers once again. A pink tint instantly flooded her cheeks. 

"Margret," she corrected. 

"I told you I preferred Maggie its-"

"-Different." The pair said simultaneously. 

A silence once again fell around them.

"Did you ever make a decision?" Margret asked.

Colin looked confused for a moment before he registered it, the dinner party, she had asked him where he would start. 

"I decided I wouldn't decide."

What, Margret though to herself. "How do you start an adventure with no starting point."

"Because Maggie, isn't the point of an adventure the unknowing." 

That stopped the girl. All her life the Nighthower girl had longed for adventure, read overbook, studying every map, memorised the train times to run to a dock and set sail. Yet his comment had just told her she had failed before she even began. "I suppose it is." She whispered out in realisation. 

"I would go to Portsmouth and hop on any boat, I wouldn't know where until my feet touch its shores. That's an adventure." 

A smile fell onto the girls lips. 

"MARGRET!" Shouted Angelica from the drinks table. Forcing the pair to look away at toward the girl who had clearly slipped, her gown dripping in mud. A small chuckle fell from the elder girls lips as she regarded her sister. "Don't laugh, help me please." Angelica begged. 

"One sec," Margret said looking back at the gentleman infront of her. A small delicate smile slapped against her face, "Mr Bridgerton." She curtsied taking the opportunity to fish out the letter. 

"I hope to see you again soon Miss Nighthower." Then unexpectedly to Colin the girl offered her hand, yet not to kiss, but to shake. A gentleman's agreement sort of handshake? 

He smiled and took her hand, his palm touching the sharp corners of the paper. His hand gripped her delicate one as the pair once again locked eyes. He gave her hand one squeeze which made her heart flutter. She squeezed back, a pulse. With one final grip the pairs hands departed, their fingertips brushing as they yearned and begged to touch again. As Margret walked away she was fully aware of her now empty palm. 

Colin watched her walk away, his hand now clutching the folded paper with dear life as he placed it in his pocket, shifty doing up the button to secure it. After all that piece of paper just became his most prized possession.