Talk of the Ton | S. Basset DoH

The Picnic, The Blackmail, and a True Courtship

The Picnic, The Blackmail, and a True Courtship

Shock and Delight - Part II

Previously...

This author has often thought the heart a most curious of instruments, heeding neither reason nor rank. For what possible explanation might Miss Elena Bridgerton have for entertaining the suit of a mere baron when she seems to have secured a duke?

Could the debutante's mind not be the only thing amiss?

"It is a very beautiful color, but it does not matter what the Duke thinks, Poppy."

"I suppose," she says, applying the color to my cheeks. "He is gallant, is he not?" She chuckles. "With a refined taste. I see the way you look at him, Elena. And the way he does you. I have only seen it with one other person." I look at her curious. "My husband." I smile.

"That's beautiful Poppy. How is Gerome?" I ask. "He is well?"

"He is, Miss. He also says 'Hello'."

"Ah, well, tell him 'Hello' from me too." I smile, and she does too in kind.

}~~~~~~~~~~~{

        Let it be known, dear reader, if this bizarre behavior portends yet another scandal, then be sure that I shall uncover it, for there is nothing more like an excursion into nature to lift the spirits and loosen the tongue.

    We are at the grand picnic I am sitting under our set-up pavilion, awaiting the arrival of the Duke. Anthony and Collin are playing with Hyacinth and Gregory, with throwing hoop. Eloise is off, talking with Penelope. And Daphne and Mama are sitting with me. I look around and catch Cressida Cowper walking with someone right by where we're sitting. "I hear she may be courting with bumbling Berbrooke." I hear her say loudly, she clearly wanted me to hear that. "Quite a good match for her, I rather think." They both laugh and continue you walking.

I look down and frown, picking at my nails for something to do. I know the only reason she's talking about me like that is because she's jealous and nervous, but I cannot help but to think that I am as unworthy as she says. I continue my mind spiral until Anthony comes up to me. "I was not aware, Sister," he says sitting down in front of me. "Of what Berbrooke attempted. I would have helped you. You should have told me."

I look at him, my head tilted. "Would you have listened to me, believed me?" He doesn't answer. "Did you only change your mind about Lord Berbrooke because another man told you the truth?"

"Do you truly esteem me so little?"

I look away, thinking for a moment before turning back to him. "After I apprised you of my wishes, and you proceeded to ignore them..." I nod. "Yes, Brother, I do. You did not even let me dance at the Danbury ball, that is what started this whole debacle." Before he could say anything back, a horse whinnies in the distance, I look up and see it is, indeed, the Duke.

I quickly stand and made my way to him. "You are late," I smile. I loop my arm through his and we start walking.

"Apologies," He says. He looks back at our camp and asks, "Should we rejoin your family at their camp?" I take a quick look back at the camp.