Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE BOW DANCED WILDLY AGAINST THE STRINGS, causing a rich and melancholy melody to play in the background of that afternoon's events. Elizabeth watched from her spot at the window, her violin propped between her chin and shoulder, as the members of the ton flurried around like wildfire. Something had happened. Something scandalous, Elizabeth was sure of it. The ton had an addictive relationship with gossip - every scandal was another hit they were ever so desperate to consume. They simply could not refrain. It was toxic.
Elizabeth wondered what was being shared amongst the ladies and gentlemen in the streets below. As far as she was aware, Lady Whistledown had not released the newest edition of her ever-so-devoured scandal sheet. As Elizabeth pondered what the news could be, she couldn't deny the unease that began to gnaw at her gut. The sensation was uncomfortable and nauseating. Had her and Anthony's ruse been found out? Is that what is spreading amongst the ton like the plague? Her anxiety saturated the violin's melody, creating a stream of haunting notes to fill the bedroom. Each note was a flame, devouring the oxygen in the room until Elizabeth simply could no longer breathe.
As Elizabeth hit a high and eerie note on her violin, a loud noise caused the would-be-beautiful-note to become jagged at the edges. Elizabeth jolted from the surprise 'bang!' and whipped around, her violin still pressed against her shoulder, to see Ophelia standing in the doorway. Her sister was frantically gasping for air as she propped herself against the frame. Her face was red and framed by dark brown flyaways going awry. Her eyes were wide with urgency and excitement.
Like Ophelia, Elizabeth found herself gasping for air.
"Ophelia, did you run?"
She nodded and though strangled breaths, she said, "Lord Berbrooke... is a rat... of a man... he has a child, did you know?... one he does not care for... oh, I ought to sit!"
Ophelia moved from her spot at the doorway and moved slowly towards Elizabeth's bed before collapsing on top of it. Her chest rose and fell wildly as she gasped for breaths.
Elizabeth furrowed her brows. "Isn't Lord Berbrooke to be marrying Daphne? I should hope this changes things." She scrunched her nose in disgust. "I never liked the man. Especially not after he forced Daphne's hand."
"He has left town!" Ophelia cried out, causing a fit of breathless coughs to follow.
Elizabeth rested her violin against the wall and sat next to Ophelia on her bed.
"You ought to stop running about, it is hard on your lungs," Elizabeth stated quietly and rubbed her palm against Ophelia's shoulder.
Ophelia flicked her hand, disregarding Elizabeth's concern. "You would not believe who I ran into upon returning home."
