A Lady's Scandal

XIV: London Midnights

1810

NEARBY WOODS, DERBYSHIRE

As they ventured deeper into the verdant thicket, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of leaves underfoot. Paul, his eyes bright with excitement, led the way, a wooden stick brandished as an imaginary sword.

"Father says there are monsters hiding in these woods," Paul declared with the fervor of a young knight on a quest. "We have to be brave, Fifi."

Ophelia, her face framed by loose, wind-tousled curls, followed him with a calm demeanor, her navy blue dress swishing as she moved. Though she was not particularly thrilled by the notion of non-existent monsters, she admired her friend's enthusiasm and was content to go along with his imaginative adventure.

"Are you enjoying our adventure?" Paul asked, glancing back at her with eager eyes.

Always the considerate friend, Ophelia mustered a bright smile. "Yes, I am," she lied gently, not wanting to dampen his spirits. As they walked, Paul continued to scan the underbrush with keen eyes, as if expecting a dragon to burst forth at any moment.

"There are no such things as monsters, there are nothing in these forests, but trees and a beautiful lake in the middle of it." she said, her voice carrying a note of gentle realism.

Paul turned to her. "How do you know that?"

Ophelia simply smiled, a mysterious twinkle in her eye. "It is my secret," she replied, her tone light and playful. She knows these woods are inhabited by anything, but monsters.

Paul regarded her for a moment, clearly intrigued. "When we get home, you have to tell me," he insisted, brandishing his stick once more as if to ward off any unseen creatures.

"Perhaps," Ophelia replied, her smile widening.

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In the soft glow of the candles, Lucy prepared Ophelia for the ball. She expertly laced the corset, smoothing the fabric of the emerald gown over her mistress's form. Her hair was styled into an elegant braided chignon, a few delicate waves framing her face. After applying light makeup, Lucy stepped back, saying, "You look exquisite, my lady."

Ophelia stood, surveying herself in the mirror. A smile played on her lips as she admired the transformation. Lucy watched silently, a look of admiration on her face.

Lady Pembroke entered the room, her eyes widening with delight as she took in her daughter's beauty. "The carriage is ready," she announced, mesmerized by the stunning sight before her.

"We shall go" Ophelia replied with a smile, taking her mother's hand. Together, they left the room, anticipation in the air.

In the Glanchester drawing room, the sisters watched as all of their brothers stood with their mother and aunt, all adorned in exquisite coats and gowns for the Countess of Goodthall's ball. As the group prepared to leave, the girls exchanged a sly look, a knowing smile passing between them.

"Have a wonderful evening!" Emily called out with a playful tone.

"Do not forget to charm the ladies," Catherine teased, her eyes twinkling.

Paul and his brothers chuckled, their mother offering a warm smile. "We shall return with stories to tell," Paul promised, tipping his hat.

With that, they bid their farewells and made their way to the waiting carriage, the evening air carrying a sense of excitement for the night ahead.