Take My Hand [Bridgerton]

[04. George to the Rescue]

LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS, 1813.

Dearest reader, this author finds herself compelled to share the most curious of news. It seems our diamond requires a closer inspection. As such, an even rarer jewel of only the most remarkable brilliance, fire, and luster has been unearthed.

Her name, unknown to most, yet soon known to all, is Miss Marina Thompson. This author is left to wonder whether Her Majesty might reconsider the high praise she once afforded Miss Bridgerton...for we all must know what the Queen despises more than anything...being wrong. And the drawing room at Bridgerton House currently appears to be emptier than the muddled head of her dearest King George. It follows that Lady Featherington is to receive what she has always desired: the season's true Incomparable living under her own roof. She must be overjoyed.

It had been a week since the Danbury Ball, the first event of the season, and already Winnie was exhausted. She had a few callers throughout the week, mostly the friends that Anthony had introduced her to. It was more than she could say that Daphne had and she should be considered lucky, this was her second season and she still attracting attention, however she wished that the gentlemen who called on her spent their time at the Bridgerton House across the square instead.

She had only crossed paths with her father a few times at breakfast and he hadn't said a word to her. He had hardly even looked at her. She knew that he had to have been getting debriefs of her gentlemen callers from their doorman, Vincent, and he was disappointed. Whether it was the lack of effort on her part to get to know the men, or the overall lack of suitors in the drawing room.

The less and less suitors came by during the week, the more her father ignored her, and the more Winnie thought about Lord Bridgerton's words at the Danbury Ball. Her father was displeased just from her performance just this week and she still had a whole season to go. In fact, she had years of seasons to go until she could finally claim "spinsterhood".

Unfortunately, Anthony was right. Her father would not approve of her dismissal of marriage. The thought of it made her sick to her stomach but she couldn't give up hope yet. She couldn't. Her previous nausea turned into panic when she pictured herself as a wife, or even worse, with child. It utterly terrified her.

Rapid footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and Winnie's panic ebbed when she recognized the sounds of her brother's gait. She inhaled deeply, wiping away an errant tear that she hadn't noticed, and readied herself for George. At her feet, Newton perked up from his nap, his nubby tail wagging in excitment to see his young master.

"Good morning!" He cheered as he entered the drawing room. "Freddie, could you help me with my shoes?"

"I thought your governess taught you?" Winnie asked him, patting the sofa next to her so he could sit and she could tie his shoe. He quickly gave Newton a quick pat on the head and then sat down, promptly plopping his socked feet in her lap. He thrust his oxfords toward her when he settled.