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CHAPTER TWO;
the dreaded danbury ball
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Eloise had said that Ophelia was lucky, because due to her late arrival she had missed out on the most distressing and anxiety-inducing part of the social season - being criticised under the watchful and tasteful eye of her Majesty the Queen. Eloise had said it was horrid, and that she wouldn't wish it upon her worst enemy, but Ophelia had to admit, she was starting to develop some extremely strong feelings about all these balls she was about to be forced to.
Her dress itched, and her hair was pinned so tightly that each time Ophelia moved her head, she was pointedly reminded of the fact. Eloise hadn't seemed too keen on the whole ordeal either. She had complained the entire carriage ride, and only ceased when her mother scowled her for her poor choice in words.
Ophelia knew she should be grateful. Violet and Kate had spent the past two days giving Ophelia the rundown of the season, of their social calendar, and why they were forced to endure certain events. She was grateful. They really didn't have to dote on her all the time, and yet here they both were, supporting her and Eloise as they endured these events. As they entered the lavish ballroom, which was absolutely bursting at its seams with debutante, eager young men, and bloodthirsty mothers, Ophelia couldn't help but glance at Violet Bridgerton, who was positively beaming.
She couldn't imagine that after her eldest daughter and son, and now Eloise and some farm girl, that the Dowager Viscountess would still find these events enjoyable. But no, as soon as they entered the ballroom, Lady Danbury, their host, sought them out and promptly stole Violet Bridgerton from their little party.
