6. The Engagement Ball

"Love constitutes as integral a part of every human being as bones or reason. As air cannot be air without all its ingredients; so man could not be human without this love element."

-Orson Squire Fowler, Creative and Sexual Science

But such courting and matrimony manuals were banned in Britain.

I held onto Father's arm tight as the doors swung open. Holding my breath, the procession began and I let him led me in the middle of row of young ladies entering the ballroom. The men from the left wing were already out on the other side, eagerly watching as we all emerged. The ballroom was grand; not the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles but still remarkable. Once all the ladies were in, both genders had fifteen minutes to mingle before the queen arrived. My guess was that she was still dining with her husband or getting her hair done. Either way, this was out chance to get to meet London's eligible bachelors for the first time. Father clung onto my arm until we found my brothers, who were sampling the punch.

Father gave them both a firm expression. "Alright, boys. Now remember, this is your chance to get matched tonight as well. But until we leave to our separate sides of the room, stay beside your sister at all times. Don't let anyone near her or talk to her- show her majesty that we're a close-knit family and very protective over our women." "You make me sound like a prized jewel to be guarded while out on exhibition," I frowned unimpressed. "As you are," Father replied looking me straight in the eye. I inwardly sighed but didn't blame him; legally a woman was her husband's property, of which he could all be pleased but murder her. Of course my father was going to be overly protective of his first-born, and favourite, daughter. As were my brothers, who scanned the crowd of gentlemen suspiciously. Father leaned in closer to them so he might talk quietly. "And when you meet Daphne's fiancé, make sure you shake his hand and greet him warmly. Show him brotherly affection, as he will be your brother soon." Ugh, I really do feel like some precious gemstone on display for sale, to be passed around, petted, and ignored by men.

Sensing my unhappy reaction, Father grinned at me and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "Do not worry, darling. You'll do marvellously tonight." He said this and I smiled back at him. "Thank you, Father. I….." I was cut off by a loud, shrill voice. "Ah, Viscount Bridgerton! Woo hoo!" Father's eyes couldn't have rolled harder. Now forcing a pleasant face, he spun around to see a gitty Lady Featherington rushing toward him, waving her plump hand holding a fan in the air. "There you are, my lord! I've been searching all over for you. And how well you look!" She immediately gusted on him. "Good evening, Lady Featherington," Father greeted through gritted teeth. Lady Featherington tapped Father's shoulder with her fan in a playful manner, which Father did not appreciate. "I didn't see you with Daphne earlier! I'm here with my own girls, you see. Ah, but how wonderful you are here! I wonder….. Might I persuade you to take a turn around the room with me so we might catch up, my lord?" Lady Featherington blurted out, all without once acknowledging any of us offspring. Discreetly rolling his eyes again, our father turned his head back to my brothers. "Stay with your sister," were his last words before the lady uncomfortably whisked him away, which Anthony and Benedict found rather amusing. I, however, did not share in their humour.

After stifling a smile, Anthony cleared his throat and turned his attention to me. "How are you feeling, sister?" "Nervous," I nibbled my bottom lip slightly. "Bah, don't be. It's as Father said; you've got nothing to worry about. Why, you're the one lady that every man is hoping to be matched with in this whole room. You are the rare, coveted treasure, Daphne," Benedict waved his hand around dismissively. I frowned, unsure how to feel about this. "But that's because of my external beauty. None of these men actually "know" the real me." "They don't have to. You and your husband will get to know each other once you're married," Anthony noted with an air of confidence. My frown deepened, even more unimpressed. I suppose men aren't as concerned with personality as women are….

Benedict meanwhile gave a casual yawn before perking up. "Dear brother, why don't you leave Daphne with me and take a turn around the room yourself? You have lots of acquaintances here," he suggested, to which Anthony instantly shot down with an arch of the back. "I'm not moving until Father returns," he countered firmly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Ah, come on, Anthony. Have a bit of fun, why don't ya?" Benny pressed, glancing around the room curiously. "I've already greeted all of my old Oxford friends back in the smoking room and at dinner. There's no need for me to mingle more," our eldest sibling cleared this throat again. Benny shook his head in disbelief. "You're a hard one, brother. I'll give you that."

Peering around the ballroom myself, I spotted the Sharma sisters along with their mother close by. I put my hand on Anthony's arm to grab his attention, making him blink to me. "Look, Anthony. There's our old acquaintances, Miss Kate and Edwina Sharma. Why don't you go say hello? I'm sure they'd be very happy to see you again," I made sure not to raise my voice too much so that others might accidently hear me. Anthony looked their way briefly and then back in my direction; his expression was stoic as ever. "Best not to tempt fate, sis." "You mean get your hopes up," Benny smirked, earning a shoulder shove from Anthony. "Go get our sister something to drink," he hissed at Benny, who rolled his eyes and chuckled. My second-eldest brother then left Anthony and I there by ourselves. He kept his hands clasped behind his back and continued sneaking side-glances at me from time to time. I pretended not to notice.

"I can't believe this night has finally come….." He broke the silence after a minute. "Me either," I nodded my head agreeing. "It won't be the same at home without you." "I know, brother. But I'll be sure to visit often, and I won't move out until after the marriage ceremony. And who knows? Maybe I won't move in with my husband after we're married; it has happened before…" "Couples usually don't live apart, Daph." "But it is possible. Should he hate me, he'd be more than happy to have me live under another man's roof," I smiled with sincerity. Anthony stared at me a moment before grinning sadly- sadly but tenderly. "Impossible, sister." "What?" "That someone may hate you. It's simply impossible.

Your fiancé will take one look at you, and never let you out of his sight again."

I blushed at this, lowering my head in delighted humility. Anthony smiled genuinely at this, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and giving me a squeeze. "Ah, Daphne…. If only you could see yourself as we see you." "It is the same for me, brother. I admire you and Father like none other," and Anthony gazed down at me again, holding me closer. "I know you do, sister…. I know."

"Miss Bridgerton!" An unfamiliar male voice rang over to us. Anthony immediately frowned and tensed up, retracting his arm from around me and clasping his hands sternly behind his back. His posture took on a domineering pose. Meanwhile the voice got nearer and nearer until this stout, short, ugly young man appeared from out of the mob. His grin, which he flashed directly at me, was off-putting from the start. Toothy and wide; almost predatory. I was already on edge, leaning back slightly. Not that he noticed.

"Miss Bridgerton, wow! You look exquisite," the strange man exclaimed rather uncharmingly. I tried to force a grin but before I was able to, Anthony stepped in. "I thank you, Lord Berbrooke. My sister is flattered by your compliment," my brother also forced a sour smile, taking care to step in between us effectively blocking Lord Berbrooke's view of me. The message could not have been clearer: don't talk to me unless we're engaged. The man's face visibly winced but he upheld a friendly demeanour.

"Ah, Bridgerton. Good to see you, man! I'm uh….. I'm sorry I did not come see you sooner in the left wing. So many acquaintances to call on and reminisce with…. You know how it is," Lord Berbrooke unwisely chuckled. Anthony couldn't have looked more unimpressed or disgusted. "Indeed," was his tort, very quick reply. Sensing he was losing his hand- which he never had- Lord Berbrooke straightened his back and bounced back a smile. "I didn't know your sister would be debuting this Season. M-Might I speak with your father?" "My father is conversing with… with an old acquaintance. He should be back soon," that message was also clear: Father has no intention nor desire to speak to him or any man who is eligible- except for my brothers- until after the ceremony. Only then did our "guest" show visible signs of displeasure.

Knowing that the ceremony would be held soon, Lord Berbrooke did his best to keep his composure. "Well, I'll just come back then," he said with an added huff. "Berbrooke," Anthony bowed just a tiny bit at him. With that, the horrible man left us, with me unsure what to make of the situation. For his part Anthony shook his head and muttered something unmentionable under his breath. "Let's hope her majesty knows what she is doing when she chooses your fiancé," he then told me. "Oh, I don't think the queen would match me with Lord Berbrooke," I consoled him. "Let's hope not. You deserve only the best, sister…. And that leaves a very small pool of gentlemen here unfortunately," Anthony gritted his teeth at this last part. I watched his face, resonating on what he'd just said. All of a sudden I recalled that tingling sensation from my hand, and remembered something else….. Something not so pleasant.

"You wouldn't….. happen to know one…. Basset, would you, brother?" I sheepishly asked. He blinked to me in surprise. "What? Simon Basset? Ha! Now there's a rogue if I ever met one. We were good mates back in university. Decent fellow but definitely not marriage material. Heh, I pity the girl who gets matched with him, though I think the queen is aware of his… rakish tendencies. She hasn't paired him with anyone in two Seasons, you know. I don't suspect it'll be any different this year now that he's a duke….." "Oh," well that's good. If that's been the case for the last two years, then maybe the queen doesn't like him. Or doesn't think he'll make a good husband else. At least I likely didn't have to worry about being matched up with him.

Father soon returned to us after this, looking very worn down by Lady Featherington's chatter. Benedict finally brought me a drink and by then the trumpets announced that it was time for the ceremony to start. My brothers both turned from the sentries to me, flashing me great big grins. When next we spoke, I'd be an engaged woman….. "Good luck, sister." "We'll be watching with anticipation," they told me. I kissed both of their cheeks, then Father took my arm and led me back to the right side of the room. Ladies and their escorts on the right side, gentlemen on the left. Once we were all in position, the trumpets blew again and the announcer declared the queen's arrival. She quickly took her seat on the throne and the ceremony officially began.

It was like waiting on pins and needles. I suddenly became the most nervous I'd ever been in my life; the last time I was this anxious was when my mother died. It was agony….. I watched as ladies were matched one-by-one before me, either appearing elated or distressed with the queen's choice. It made me realize just how much my future, my fate was in the hands of this monarch. And the realization made me sick with worry. My mind was racing a mile a minute. What if I'm wrong and she does pair me up with Lord Berbrooke? What would I do? I doubt he'd let me steal away to my father's house to hide after the marriage. Oh god….. What if it someone like Lord Berbrooke? This is turning out to be a nightmare!

But nothing stops time from marching forward. The ceremony was halfway done when it happened. It occurred all so suddenly. The queen perked up; her voice had grown bored right before this moment. "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, let's have the diamond of the first water step forward," she chirped with glee. My blood ran cold…. but surprisingly hot too. Father gave me a gentle nudge forward and I found myself walking out from the crowd. All eyes were resting on me and I felt my heart beating like never before. In truth I wanted the floor to open and swallow me up….. But I was also curious to see who the queen would select for me.

Her majesty waited until I was standing awkwardly in the middle of the ballroom floor. Gazing timidly at the men opposite me, I felt like a piece of meat being ogled at. They all looked at me with "those" eyes; you know which ones I'm talking about. A bolt of terror instantly ran through me, sending a shiver down my spine. The only reprieve was peering to my brothers' faces, who shown at me so enduringly. That gave me courage….. A little bit of courage.

The world's longest minute passed by, but to me it felt like an hour. After beaming at me, the queen turned her piercing stare over to the gentlemen's side. She looked to be contemplating, but not too hard. I was worried she might have already made up her mind so quickly….. My heart skipped another beat when her eyes abruptly shifted back to mine, shimmering with delight at her choice. That was a good sign, I hope….. "Miss Daphne Bridgerton. Allow me to introduce to you your fiancé, the Duke of Hastings."

There was an audible gasp throughout the room. I didn't notice the colour drain from Anthony's face, nor the other gentlemen directly start to whisper amongst themselves. All I remember at first is this solid, pure wave of relief flowing through me. Oh, thank god…. She didn't say Lord Berbrooke or Simon Basset's name. My husband is someone else; hopefully someone who wants to get married.

No one stepped forward right away, which was confusing. But soon enough, this tall, dark-skinned man was practically thrust forward by the other men standing around him. The well-dressed man, roughly about in his early twenties, stepped out, looking absolutely shell-shocked. But he came forward onto the dance floor. He approached me, and I got a good look at Lord Hastings for the very first time.

My jaw would have dropped if I was not a well-brought-up young lady. This man…. This…. This Adonis! My god, was he gorgeous! I don't know how I hadn't noticed him before; he was utterly stunning. Slender, muscular arms, a trim waist, well-dress, beautiful face, and as tall as you could imagine. He was perfect; I couldn't have crafted him better if I designed him myself. All fears and reservations I had about this arranged marriage were swiftly tossed out of the window. This was the best thing to ever happen to me. He was the best thing to ever happen to me…..

Or so I thought.

I couldn't help but smile in rapture at my new fiancé. Heh, he's my fiancé; MY fiancé! Not only am I marrying a duke, but I'm marrying the most attractive man in England. No wonder all the ladies were glaring daggers at me from behind right now. But it slowly dawned on me that something was wrong. For while I flashed him a brilliant smile, he couldn't have looked more displeased with the situation….. with me.

I smiled at the duke; he did not.

My own grin began to fade as I studied his bitter expression towards me. I'd never seen someone scowl that wide before. I was confused and growing more worried by the second. Still, manners and customs had to be upkept. My fiancé was supposed to take my arm and lead me to the back of the room with the other new couples. My face flushed white in horror as he marched there without offering me his arm. This slight elicited another gasp from the crowd; even the queen herself frowned unimpressed by his dismissal of me. I blushed more embarrassed than I'd ever been before but followed behind to join him at the back. My fiancé made sure not to stand too close to me for the rest of the ceremony, not even gazing in my direction once. Whispers and chatter stirred around us, and I wanted to die. By the end of the ceremony, I was already feeling sick to my stomach.

Once the ceremony had finished, it was time for the ball to start, where all new partners would dance with each other for the first time. The trumpets sounded and the room filled with conversation again. Feeling all sorts of uncomfortable, I peered over at my fiancé with the upmost shyness. He clearly didn't want to look at me, which hurt me in ways I couldn't imagine. Still, determined to make of this unfortunate circumstance, I forced myself to break the tense silence between us.

"E-Erm…..?" Was all I could manage to get out. Only then did Lord Hastings deem to give me an annoyed side-glare, not even moving his head to do so. My blushed burned with embarrassment again and I was unable to look straight at him. "U-Uh, h-hello. I'm Daphne Bridgerton." "I'm aware," that was my first time hearing the sound of his voice. Oh, his voice….. It's indescribable. It's like the promise of salvation and sin tailored into one; it's like the most flawless, alluring sound created especially for me. I already adored it; I'd only heard it once, and I loved it. I could listen to him speak forever….

My lips quivered, betraying my perplexing and conflicting array of emotions currently. "You're Lord Hastings… Uh, the Duke of Hastings!" I felt the need to suddenly tack on. He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Is there something you want?" Direct and to the point. That caught me off-guard. "U-Um, well…. Would you…. Would you care to dance….. with me?" I asked more awkwardly than I've ever said anything. I felt his harsh glare resting on me for a second before he snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'll pass." What? "B-But, my lord! W-We just got engaged!" I gasped, both shocked and scandalized. Not taking my arm is one thing, but refusing to dance with me is another. The blood in my veins froze when he unexpectedly looked me in the eye. My muscles quivered out of joy and rapture. God, he's beautiful….. The epidemy of male beauty.

What he said next dashed away all my momentary happiness. He made sure I was staring at him as he spoke, revealing a stone-cold gaze to me. "Listen very carefully, Miss Bridgerton. I never wanted to get married, and I sure as hell do not want to marry you. Nothing could entice me otherwise, you understand?" "I….." I started but he interrupted me, going on in the icy tone of his. "Out of respect to her majesty, I'll still do all that is required of a fiancé to do. I'll still dine with you and your family and attend balls with you, but do not expect me to ever dance with you. I am doing this out of duty, obligation; it is not out of any regard for you. Do you understand?" "Uh…?" "Henceforth, I want nothing to do with you. Do not talk to me, do not seek me out. If you must reach me about anything, you can contact my godmother. Do you hear? Do NOT come to me- I won't say it again." "Uh, um…" What could I say to that? What was I supposed to say? I felt on the verge of tears, but none trickled down my cheeks. I just stood there like a blithering idiot, completely dumbfounded and speechless…. How could I not be otherwise?

That's how my brothers found me; Father was already busy talking to the woman whom I would soon learn is Lady Danbury. While they were clearly distressed, they tried to put on a happy façade at least for my sake. Or that was until Lord Hastings ruined everything….

Anthony came over, grinning but also glaring at my fiancé. "Hastings." "Bridgerton," my fiancé gave a slight respectful bow. I wonder if these two know each other….? Benedict came over to my side, giving Lord Hastings a once over. "It's still odd hearing you called that. I'm used to Anthony calling you "Basset" like he used to back at Oxford." Basset?! My heart froze and my eyes instinctively widened. Did he just say….. Basset?! As in the same Basset I overheard earlier this night?! Oh my god….. Oh my god! It suddenly makes sense why he's so unhappy! He doesn't want to marry me; he doesn't want to marry anyone! I was mistaken; the queen did match me to someone I desperately didn't want either. No wonder Anthony looks so upset… I'm upset! How could this have happened?! Why would the queen do this to me? Was this some sort of punishment for something? I just don't understand!

While I was having my mini meltdown, the men talked edgily with each other. Anthony shot Lord Hastings a warning glare. "Aren't you going to ask my sister to dance?" Oh on, brother; why did you have to ask that? You know Lord Hastings's a rake, so why stoke the fire? I wanted to hide my face in my hands when Lord Hastings straightened up his back in a confrontational fashion. "You know I'm not one for dancing," my fiancé hissed back. Sensing the mood, Benny rushed in between the two angry men, who were now glaring daggers at one another. "Come. I'll dance with you, Daphne," my brother offered me his hand. "Excuse me, I must return to my party," Lord Hastings then turned to leave. People were watching and whispering again; the girls were giggling at my anguish and the boys were shooting disapproving looks at Lord Hastings.

"Come, sister," Anthony then took my arm to lead me away from the pitiful scene. That familiar sensation of my heart beating too fast overtook me; I was unable to control my breathing. This is a nightmare… This is a total nightmare.

My brothers immediately knew something was wrong. "Daphne? Sister, are you alright?" "N-No, I….. I….." Familiar sensations, familiar whiteness. My vision was hastily going white. "What is it? Are you faint, Daph?" Anthony eyed me concerned. That's when I nearly collapsed in his arms. He caught me just in time and I thankfully didn't fully faint, but I was close to it. Father rushed over to the three of us, unaware of what just happened. One look at me told him something was wrong though. "Oh my goodness, Daphne! Are you unwell? Come, dear! You need some air." And the three Bridgerton men led me outside into the garden where I regained control of my faculties. I did not dance with Lord Hastings or anyone that night, and it left me with a sad aftertaste of the whole affair. He hated me…. My fiancé hated me…. Forget about love; I don't know how I could possibly live with that fact.

But I would have done well to remember that first appearances aren't always what they seem.