Unwanted Love || Colin Bridgerton

3# The first ball

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Angelina stood before the gilded mirror in her room, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. The elaborate beauty of her dress, an exquisite piece of ivory light green silk and delicate lace, adorned with pearlswas. Her maid, Clara, fussed over the final touches, smoothing out the skirts and adjusting the tiny, intricate details of her bodice.

"Miss Angelina, you look absolutely radiant," Clara murmured, stepping back to admire her handiwork.

Angelina offered a polite smile, though her heart felt heavy. Tonight was her first ball since returning to Mayfair, and the weight of her past threatened to overshadow the evening. Her auburn hair, a fiery cascade of curls, had been expertly pinned and adorned with a magnificent hairpin.

Lost in her thoughts , she feared the idea of seeing him again, after 8 long years, was unavoidable. The ball at Lady Danbury's estate promised to be a grand affair, and the Bridgertons were sure to be there, since Francesca too , was a debutante.

With a deep breath, she steeled herself. Tonight was not just a social gathering; it was a battlefield, and she intended to emerge unscathed.

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The grand ballroom at Lady Danbury’s estate was a glittering sea of light and color. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the elegantly dressed guests. The air was filled with the lilting strains of a string quartet, playing a lively waltz that echoed through the expansive space.

As Angelina entered the room, a hush seemed to fall over the crowd. All eyes turned toward her, whispers and murmurs following in her wake. The queen herself showed her appreciation , which came with both admiration and scrutiny. She moved with the grace and poise of a woman who had been trained to navigate society's treacherous waters, her head held high.

Her first suitor of the evening, a nervous young lord named Frederick, approached her with a tentative smile. "May I have the honor of this dance, Miss Angelina?"

She inclined her head graciously, accepting his hand. As they moved onto the dance floor, she forced herself to remain focused, her steps precise and measured. Frederick was kind and earnest, but her mind was elsewhere, haunted by memories of another time, another dance.

Throughout the evening, she was passed from one suitor to another, each more eager than the last to win her favor. There was Lord Smythe, with his overly pompous manner; Mr. Howard, who spoke of nothing but his estates; and Sir William, whose only redeeming quality was his skill in dancing. She danced with them all, maintaining the façade of polite interest, though her heart remained untouched.

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As the night wore on, the familiar strains of a waltz began to play, and Angelina found herself momentarily alone. She scanned the crowd, her gaze settling on a familiar figure. It was Violet Bridgerton, standing with her eldest sons, Anthony and Benedict. The sight of them brought a rush of emotions, memories of happier times flooding her mind.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way over to them, her steps faltering slightly as she drew near. Violet’s eyes widened in recognition, and a warm smile spread across her face.

"Angelina, my dear, it is so wonderful to see you again." Violet exclaimed, embracing her warmly.

"It is a pleasure to see you as well, Lady Bridgerton," Angelina replied, her voice steady though her heart raced.