The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes. Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding. Reason unknown.
Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors.
Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds. You know not the future that awaits. Will there be hardship or indignity? Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell time, and, as always, this author.
Lydia and I sit in the drawing room. It is less than a week before we leave for the countryside like everyone else in the ton.
"Are you excited for the Hastings ball?" Lydia asks.
I nod my head. "It is the last ball of the season."
"I suppose it the perfect place for one to propose," Lydia offers.
I look at her shocked. "Propose?"
"I have been speaking with Charles," Lydia tells me. "Who has been speaking with Lord Broadmore."
"About proposing?" I question.
"Charles believes Lord Broadmore is a good man," Lydia tells me. "And you care for him do you not?"
I nod my head. "I do."
"Charles and I wish for what is best for you," Lydia tells me. "And if that is Lord Broadmore, we will support your decision."
Pen and I visit with Eloise at the Bridgerton house. The whole Bridgerton family is in the drawing room including Daphne and the duke as well as Francesca. Colin is singing while Francesca plays the pianoforte.
"I have news," Eloise tells us. "I finally found her. Lady Whistledown."
"Who is she?" Pen asks.
"She is Madame Delacroix," Eloise informs us. "Madame Delacroix is her. The modiste and Whistledown are one and the same. And she is going to print something in your family's favor, Pen. She told me so."
Pen smiles. "Well, that certainly is an impressive feat, running two businesses."
"We should aspire to be just like her: Unmarried, earning our own money," Eloise insists.
"Look, I'm happy you found her, El, but I do not think I can ever be like that," Pen tells her. "Ruth is the sister of a duke. And El, you now have a duchess for a sister. That makes achieving the life you wish for all the more easier. The status of my family, however, is an entirely different story, which will not be changing in the foreseeable future."
The final ball of any season is distinguished by one of two things, anticipation or dread. For, while those who have been successful in the year's marriage market look forward to flaunting their perfect, joyous unions others shudder at the thought of spending one last night before the discerning eyes of the ton. As they know, indeed, just what the evening signifies, that their time is officially up. And yet, to those who may still find themselves out of both choices and hope, fear not. For who knows when and where one's fortunes may change?
After a turn on the dance floor, I manage to slip away from dancing. I stand off to the side by myself.
"Enjoying your evening?"
I turn and see Colin walking towards me.
"It is a wonderful ball," I tell him. "Your sister has done a marvelous job."
