"Hold me close so I can finally... breathe"
Marriage wasn't something Carina Bridgerton looked forward to. And true love was not something she dreamed of. She had declared it very clearly to her family that no marriage shall ever be expected from he...
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Carina awoke with a light gasp, flabbergasted at the dream she had just had, of her and the Duke- no, Simon. Of her and Simon, dancing under the moonlight, the most beautiful of trees with lamps like a thousand little stars.
She felt her cheeks warm at the thought, her heart fluttered and her face drawn into a frown, confused at the muddle of emotions she held for the man- anger, gratitude, dislike, love.
Love.
She was in love, she loved the man and yet, she could not find it within herself to be joyous about it.
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Dearest gentle reader, it is often said that those who marry in haste must repent at leisure, a sentiment that is clearly shared by Miss Daphne Bridgerton, who has apparently rejected not one, not two, but three proposals already this week.
Some believe she is showing admirable forethought in her deliberations, but I would venture a different conjecture, that she, like this author, is still waiting on the only suitor of note.
Carina gasps in breathlessly as she finds herself seated with the duke in a cafe, watching him lick a spoon, so temptingly, he licks those beautiful lips of his and- "Here we are." the waitress says, bringing her out of her daydream, so she leans in towards the duke and whispers, "Our plan has worked thus far, but we must continue our ruse until I have found my match."
"In the grand battle of the season, I am your trusted general, marshaling the troops." he says back with a smile, teasing her.
"Wellington could only hope for a soldier so brave." she plays along, "And handsome. You must not forget that." he points out, enjoying their pointless banter.
Carina chuckles, finding his attempt at humour successful. Yet, as she lets out a sigh, all she could think of was how she could ever forget such a painfully obvious fact about his appearance when her feelings constantly remind her of it.
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"Daphne, have you thought about with whom you would like to dance at tonight's ball? What about you Carina?" their mama questions the sisters.
"I have some ideas." Daphne replies, going back to her pianoforte, too focused on the song she has been composing.
"As do I. Lord Weaver is a fine dancer." Carina says, not once looking up from her reading.
"Lord Hardy was asking about you at White's last night." Anthony informs his sister. Even though things between them are still tense and yet to sort out, they have been better than a few days ago.
