The frenzy of competition. The thrilling delight of hazarding your all. I am referring not to the lure of London's luxurious gaming halls but to a gamble with far higher stakes. Matrimony. For once that particular wager is placed, it cannot easily be undone. A fact which, I am sure, is met with both regret and sheer relief.
I have felt better in the past few days than I have in months. I have decided to promenade with Lydia.
"I am glad to see you getting out of the house once again," Lydia tells me.
"I am happy to be in the fresh air," I state.
We pass Prudence Featherington showing off her engagement ring. "...and I shall sing between each one."
"I do not understand how Prudence can be so happy with how her engagement came about," I confess.
"I would say she is excited to finally secure an engagement at all," Lydia offers. "I do not think she cares much how it happened."
"Penelope has told me that Prudence is even more big headed these days," I tell her. "She is already calling herself Lady Featherington.
Lydia and I stop by the pond.
"She is enthusiastic about the marriage at least," Lydia offers.
"She is desperate," I argue.
I watch as Miss Edwina and Anthony move to greet Miss Sharma and Mr Dorset as they arrive at the dock. Anthony ties off the rope and I can only assume it is a way to show his dominance over Mr Dorset. Even when Mr Dorset holds his hand out to Miss Sharma to help her from the boat Anthony steps in taking his place. After helping Miss Sharma out of the boat Anthony steps back suddenly. He trips over Miss Sharma's dog, Newton, and hits Mr Dorset. Both men go tumbling into the water.
I laugh rather loudly. Lydia does the same.
"I think it is funnier because it is Anthony Bridgerton," I confess.
"I think you are right," Lydia agrees.
Pen and I are waiting at the Bridgerton house. We are supposed to walk with Eloise. Now that I am feeling more myself, I have started to walk with them again.
"Penelope, Ruth what are you doing here?" Eloise questions as she walks down the stairs towards us.
"I thought we were to walk, as we usually do," Pen tells her.
"My apologies," Eloise says. "I had quite forgotten."
"Uh, well... you missed quite the scene at the lake yesterday," I tell her.
"My brother's impromptu swim? I heard about it," Eloise assures.
Pen laughs. "Where were you?"
"Alas, I was forced to occupy my day with tedious wedding errands, which Mama has listed me for yet again," Eloise tells us. "I'm sorry, but I cannot stroll with you today."
"Ruth and I shall see you tomorrow, then," Pen tells her.
"Of course," Eloise says before walking off.
Pen turns to one of the maids. "Pardon me. Miss? Miss Eloise seems to have misplaced her reticule when she was out yesterday. I'll be happy to retrieve it. Where exactly did she visit?"
"You'll not find it again, miss," the maid informs us. "I warned her, the streets of Bloomsbury aren't fit for a lady."
Pen and I leave the Bridgerton house.
"She went to see that apprentice again," I state.
"She will not listen to reason," Pen insists.
"This is only going to cause more harm than good," I state.
I sit in the drawing room with Peter and Charles. Lydia is upstairs fussing over Percy.
"I see your back to reading Lady Whistledown," Charles states.
I nod my head. "I seem to be in the mood to read about other peoples' gossip, not my own for once."
Peter laughs. "And you went to promenade with Lydia."
"Are you feeling better?" Charles asks.
I nod my head. "I am. Truly I am."
I sit in the garden. I may be feeling better, but I still cannot sleep easily.
"You're here."
I smile when I see Colin walking towards me. Colin's smile grows wider as he sits beside me.
"It has been a long time since I've seen that smile," Colin tells me.
"I feel better," I tell him. "I no longer drown in my sadness. I am finding my purpose once more."
"I wish I could say the same," Colin tells me.
"You are looking for your purpose?" I question.
"Everyone else is finding some purpose to their lives. Anthony is to be married. Benedict has his artistic pursuits. And, well, here I am... not doing much of anything," Colin tells me.
"You have a good deal of time and plentiful opportunities to make your mark," I offer.
"The new Lord Featherington is a man of commerce," Colin states. I look at him curiously. "He has ruby mines in America. They are flourishing, I hear. I plan on introducing myself."
"See," I tell him, "You are already on the way to finding your purpose."
Colin smiles slightly. "I am glad you are speaking to me again. I will always be remorseful for what happened between us."
"Do not waste any more time thinking about the past," I tell Colin. "What is done is done. All that matters is we have each other once more."
Duty. More than laws or faith, I have often thought it the bond that holds our fragile society together. Duty to rank and title. Fidelity to one's family name. It demands both utter obedience and total sacrifice. But what happens when such duty is in conflict with the heart's true desire? Why, then, there is the potential for a considerable scandal, indeed. The only question is, will the parties in question heed my warning? Or is it already too late to turn back to duty and away from desire?
