chapter ten
A DRESS FIT FOR A VISCOUNTESS"DOES SHE NOT LOOK RATHER LOVELY?" The voice of Violet Bridgerton rang in Elizabeth's ears, leading the girl away from the turmoil of her thoughts. Elizabeth felt the weight of the world tugging at her shoulders, trying to pull her through the floorboards and into the soil deep below - killing her spirit, her joy, her life. The weight of the world was nothing more than the weight of the white, silk dress she was being fitted into by Madame Delacroix. The dress was beautiful, everything she ever wished for when she imagined her wedding day as a naive young girl - when she was Frederica's age. The fabric was light yet felt like the material was sewn with stone. The weight of the world weighs heavy on her chest, drowning her heart and suffocating her lungs.
Why must the prettiest of things be the most damning?
Elizabeth watched Helena nod in the mirror. Her mother's face was constructed from melted fool's gold. On the exterior, she was delicate, breathtakingly beautiful, and presented as any mother of the bride should, pleasant and thrilled for the bride. Yet, none of it was real. The only thing that thrilled her mother was marrying her daughters off and promoting the affluent Beaumont image - one that was crumbling in the ton's blind spots.
Violet smiled softly and hummed to Helena, "I am so delighted for Elizabeth to join our family. Gregory and Hyacinth adore her already, it is endearing."
"As are we!" Helena grinned, eagerly. Elizabeth's stomach churned at the abundance of greed within her mother's irises. "The Earl is thrilled for such a special match. Our dear Elizabeth has found a love match."
Elizabeth withheld a scoff for she knew that Helena did not care that Elizabeth found a special match or a love match, no what Helena cared about was riches. For Helena, the Bridgertons were a second chance at life - they were wealthy while the Beaumont family has long fallen from the same grace. It made Elizabeth ill watching her mother and Violet interact in the mirror, for her mother was green with greed and envy.
"I heard from Lady Whistledown," Helena began slowly as if she were testing the waters, "Daphne has denied three proposes this week alone. I fear my dear Beatrice has yet to receive one."
"Yes, indeed," Violet said politely. "Daphne will not settle for anything but a love match. I must agree with the sentiment, I argue it is best to marry the one you see as your dearest friend. It is rather simple."
In theory, yes it is simple, and Elizabeth wished she could share the same luxury. But, she ought not complain for Anthony will be a good father for her children, he will treat her well even in a loveless marriage. She can mourn the loss of love, but she shall not mourn the loss of a good life.
"These suitors were affluent, were they not?" Helena stated abruptly, her tone thickly laced with venom. "I wish Beatrice would attract the likes of affluent suitors, she has been too focused on untitled men."
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HOLLOW HEARTS ▹ Anthony Bridgerton
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