1. Chapter One

Kairos

Chapter One

The perfect portrayal of beauty had never been something that the honourable Miss Violet Clympton had quite understood.

As she stood before her dressing mirror that evening, she pondered her face, comparing it to that of Miss Corelia Wethering, her cousin and that season's "diamond" (according to the tattling gossips of the Ton). She had, she supposed, pleasingly symmetrical features, though her mouth would be considered too wide for perfect beauty. She knew that her rich chestnut hair was too dark for fashion, when compared to the pale golden locks of her cousin, and her hazel eyes would no doubt be thought common place. But her figure was neat, her skin clear and her cheek with a tendency to dimple (which her mother always commented upon).

After allowing herself a slight eye roll, she shared a smirk with her maid Sarah and instructed her to fasten the emeralds about her neck. She had also taken the time to find a spray of silk flowers that matched the gold and white embroidery on her green gown to perfection, which were now liberally studded through her hair. She was just tucking away a stray curl when her Mother entered the room.

Lady Clympton surveyed her only daughter with a warm smile, "Beautiful, my darling," she commented, walking forward to peck her daughter's cheek. "Green really is your colour, do you not agree, Sarah?"

The maid nodded, "Very much so, my lady. Cooler colours have always suited Miss Violet."

"Maybe we could try a teal at the modiste next week?" Lady Clympton pondered, "I seem to remember Miss Chandry wearing a similar shade last year and it became her darker colouring beautifully."

Violet readily agreed and was quick to usher her mother out before she and Sarah began another discussion of gowns.

"I'm sure Aunt Henrietta and Cordelia don't want to be kept waiting," she stated, "Thank you, Sarah."

They soon joined her aunt and cousin in their carriage. Cordelia, as always, looked stunning in a gown of ivory organza.

"So, who's flavour of the week?" Violet teased, "Who's stolen your heart? Is Lord Paisley still a favourite?"

Her cousin laughed, "He's certainly very charming. The Duke of Andover has also been very attentive."

"My dear, the Duke of Andover is a decided rake, your father already told you this," Mrs Wethering corrected her daughter.

Cordelia nodded, "I know Mama, but he is very amusing."

A discussion of the duke then followed which amused Violet greatly. Her cousin took secret delight in worrying her mother by gushing over her latest "favourite" (who was always a completely inappropriate suitor), when the truth was that she actually had a very good head on her shoulders and far more common sense than anyone gave her credit for.

They were still deep in their discussion when the carriage drew up alongside Lord and Lady Danbury's beautiful home on Park Lane.

As always, the renowned her ladyship had not let down her guests. Huge displays of vibrantly coloured tulips decorated the walls of the entrance hall and ball room. It created such a stunning visual display that Violet was struck for many minutes as she took it all in, missing her cousin's departure on the arm of Lord Paisley and her own attention being drawn by a stout young man with an easy smile.

"I say, Miss Clympton?" he tried again.

Violet started. "Mr Briggs, I beg your pardon, were you trying to speak to me?"

Mr Thomas Briggs laughed heartily at Violet's distraction, "I was requesting your hand for the first dance, Miss Clympton," he replied with his usual sparkle.

She smiled, "I'm sorry for my abstraction, the tulips overpowered me."

Her partner nodded, "They certainly create a spectacle. May I have your hand?"

Violet happily accepted it and they began a comfortable country dance together. It always amused them both when others asked about when they were going to become engaged. She and Mr Briggs had met the previous season and got along excellently as friends, so it had become their habit to dance a couple of what they called "safety dances" together, meaning that they would not be scolded by their respective Mamas for not having enough partners throughout the evening.

"So, have you stolen any hearts yet this season, Mr Briggs?" she asked during a calmer part of the dance.

Mr Briggs flashed her his smile, "Only a couple. Though I am still, shall we say, relaxed when it comes to the marriage market, Miss Clympton."

Violet smiled. Mr Briggs had the enviable position of being an eldest son with no pressure upon him to marry, so he took great delight in taking his time.

"What of you? This is the third week of your second season, surely you have caught a handsome young man's eye?"

She laughed and shook her head, "That would be my cousin, Mr Briggs, and she has caught many a young gentleman's eye."

"I have heard as much; I hope her Father's parlour does not become overwhelmed by the fragrance of so many bouquets."

"She had received many, but I believe my Aunt Henrietta is enjoying the attention."

Mr Briggs smiled and bowed as the dance ended. "May I claim another after tea? I believe at least two will help to assuage my Mother's concerns." He pencilled his name into a space on her dance card and bowed deeply before leading her back to her mother.

Lady Clympton gave her daughter a knowing look, "Thomas Briggs, again darling?"

Violet sighed, "I've told you a thousand times Mama, he's my friend. It is possible for the two genders to be friends without romantic feelings being involved."

Her mother nodded, "I know Violet, so you've told me."

Violet walked away in search of some lemonade, wearied of her mother's knowing looks. Upon reaching the bowl she discovered her friend Katherine Andrews, and they shared a knowing smile.

"Is your mother dissatisfied at your partner choice?" Katherine asked.

Violet sighed, "As always, she cannot comprehend that Mr Briggs and I are friends."

"Just like my brother cannot believe that I am not an old maid, despite this being my (prepare for horror) fifth season without being married."

Violet regarded her friend sympathetically. Katherine was the eldest daughter of a very respectable family but had dared to reach the age of twenty-three without having accepted an offer of marriage. Such a thing was horrifying to many a young woman in her first season, but Violet could understand only too well and admired her friend's nonchalance in the face of many barbed and pointed remarks from the gossips.

"We are what my Aunt Henrietta has started to refer to as the "Wallflower Misses of the Ton"," Violet observed, "Because we prefer to remain on the side-lines and do not want to thrust ourselves into the limelight."

"But how will you find a husband Katherine?" Katherine replied, mimicking her mother, "You'll end up like poor Prudence Blaylock."

Both girls cast a sympathetic glance at the unfortunate Miss Blaylock who was sitting in her usual distant corner, away from public attention and evidently wishing she could be at home. It was well known that she wished to simply have her dowry and live with a companion, but her mother could not bear the shame and always forced her poor daughter out to social events. This was now her eleventh season and she had sadly become a bit of a joke to the Ton.

"I'm afraid that's what comes from being one of the richest heiresses in Britain, with a mother who won't allow you to escape marriage," Violet added.

"What are you two doing, sympathising with poor Prudence Blaylock?" a merry voice enquired. Both girls turned to see Timothy Andrews beaming at them. Freshly graduated from Cambridge with flyaway hair and an infectious enthusiasm, he seldom failed to make Violet laugh.

"Why aren't you off charming the Miss Lowhings Tim?" she asked.

"I've been on the lookout for my old friend Bridgerton," he replied, "He returned from his tour last week and promised to come tonight."

"Oh, the Viscount," Katherine said with evident pleasure, "I didn't know he was coming tonight."

"He just finished his tour?" Violet asked, "I do envy him."

"Have you travelled much, Violet?"

She shook her head, "Only to France. My parents took us to Paris one summer to practise my spoken French when I was fourteen, but it has been many years since I left England."

"I hope to take a tour in a few years," Timothy added. "But for now, I thought you might fancy a turn, Vi." She accepted his hand gladly and they enjoyed a bouncy gavotte. As with Mr Briggs, it was a dance of friendship and one she greatly enjoyed. Timothy was an excellent dancer and had become like a brother to her since she and Katherine had become friends. Once they had finished, he led her to a comfortable seat near her mother and went off in search of refreshments.

Violet was content to sit down. She often enjoyed people watching at such events and considering whether the hopes of many a young woman would be fulfilled. She found her eyes following Miss Felicity Kendall, another darling of the Ton with her golden curls and big brown eyes. Miss Kendall was dancing elegantly around Sir Geoffrey Ramsay who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

It was only once her eyes drifted off in search of Timothy that she saw …

All her life, Violet had laughed at the notion of love at first sight in books and especially in plays. She had grossly offended Cordelia when they were younger by not falling head over heels in love with Romeo and Juliet's relationship. But she had simply laughed and said that the relationship was not just implausible but utterly ridiculous.

Then she saw him.

The first thing that struck her was the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. He was talking to Timothy and they obviously knew each other well. He was also very tall. He was at least a half foot taller than his companion. Dark hair fell to his ears. His eyes weren't dark but cool, maybe blue or green ..? He was handsome in a rugged way, but it was his smile that made it impossible for her to look away.

Then, he saw her.

Timothy had been gesturing to the other side of the room, obviously talking about bringing her some lemonade, when he looked over … and could not look away. He stared at her with the same focus, the same piercing intensity.

It was only after a long time that Violet realised she had been staring and looked down, hating the faint blush that she could feel creeping over her cheeks. It was a habit of her girlhood that she had still not been able to stop.

When she dared look up, they were gone. She felt disappointed but also slightly relieved.

It was short lived, however as Timothy was before her the next moment and the stranger was bowing politely to her. She was so overwhelmed that she missed the first few things that her friend said and forced herself into a curtsey. It was only latterly that she realised that this was the infamous travelling viscount they had been speaking of.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Viscount Bridgerton," she murmured.

He took her hand and kissed it with easy gallantry, "And I you, Miss Clympton. Is this your first season?"

"No, my second," she corrected. "I understand that you are lately arrived from your tour?"

"I am."

"I was telling Timothy just a few moments ago how greatly I envy you, I would love to see Italy beyond anything."

He smiled, "It is as stunning country."

"What location was most memorable to you?"

He considered, "Probably Lake Garda or the Colosseum at Rome."

She smiled, "Oh I have heard such things of Lake Garda's beauty. Vorrei poter vedere quel bel punto di riferimento." [I wish I could see that fair landmark]

The Viscount beamed at her, "Spero che un giorno lo farai." [I hope that you will someday]. "You speak the language very well, Miss Clympton."

She felt herself blushing, "I've always loved languages. I'm not sure whether I got so good at them to please my governess or because I wanted to beat my younger brother Frederick. We can be dreadfully competitive."

Lord Bridgerton laughed, "Have you many siblings?"

"Three younger brothers – seventeen, fourteen and twelve. All competitive and endlessly reminding me that I am now an old maid at the ancient age of nineteen! What of you, my lord?"

"Just one. My younger brother Harold. He's taking Cambridge by storm and apparently beating all the other colleges into submission on the river."

"My brother rows for his college as well!"

"Which one?"

"Caius. And yours?"

"Trinity. Every man in my family has gone to Trinity."

"As every man in mine has gone to Caius."

They smiled at this familial similarity and it was only at this time that they remembered Timothy, who offered Violet her glass of lemonade.

"Oh, thank you Timothy. I would surmise you met Lord Bridgerton at Cambridge then?"

Her friend smiled. "Indeed, and he out translated me in every language, though I had him at the Sciences."

Lord Bridgerton sighed heavily, "Before we relive every academic triumph may I have the pleasure of your company in the next dance, Miss Clympton?" Violet readily agreed.

The Viscount proved to be a most able dancer, leading her expertly through the waltz and maintaining the same intensity in his look. She didn't know what it was – his gaze, his stature, the way he carried himself, but Violet knew that she would find it very hard to stay away from the Viscount. He too seemed unable to keep away from her and used any excuse to touch her hand or guide her in the dance.

When the music ended, she was glad to escape from his presence for a moment and seek the reprieve of the outdoor terrace for cool air upon flushed cheeks. She made herself sit down in full view of the doors, but in an open area so that she could enjoy a cool breeze. She did not have long to herself though as her mother approached looking very intrigued.

"Did I just see you dancing with Viscount Bridgerton?"

Violet rolled her eyes, "Yes, Mama, you did and before you ask, he is very pleasant company and that is all I wish to say on the matter."

"That is all you wish to say on the matter?" Lady Clympton replied sarcastically. "So, I'm not to mention the intensity of the look that passed between you or the way that you ran away as soon as the dance was done to spare your blushes?"

"I did not run away!" Violet exclaimed, "I was simply ... warm from dancing."

"Of course, my darling," her mother agreed, "And he hasn't asked you for another dance?"

"He hasn't," Violet replied triumphantly.

"Well, you didn't really give him a chance after you fled from him."

"I didn't flee!"

"As I already said, of course you didn't."

Her mother allowed the silence to grow uncomfortable before her daughter burst out, "He is a very pleasant man. That was why I chose to dance with him, no other!"

"Who are you trying to convince Violet? Me or yourself?

Violet was about to storm away into the gardens when the Viscount's approach stopped her. He approached swiftly, bearing two glasses of lemonade.

"Miss Clympton, may I be introduced to your Mother?"

"Of course, my lord," Violet replied, swallowing her feelings. "Mama, may I present Viscount Bridgerton, he is but lately returned from his European tour."

"Oh, where did you travel, my lord? My husband has always spoken most fondly of his own tour."

There then followed a long conversation about various European capitals and places. Despite herself, Violet was fascinated and soon forgot her anger at hearing descriptions of many places that she had always longed to see.

"Is it true that the water of the Mediterranean is like glass? My father always said it was."

The Viscount smiled, "As clear and as pure as crystal. I went sea bathing several times."

"Only in the highlands of Scotland will you find such purity of water," Lady Clympton added. "We often holiday at a small estate of my husband's in the Highlands."

It then turned out that the Viscount also had a sizable estate near Fort William.

"It is a very small world indeed," Lady Clympton remarked.

"Which reminds me, Miss Clympton, might I request a second dance after supper or is your card full?"

After assuring him that she had space, Violet passed him her card and carefully avoided meeting her mother's eye. It was only after they had returned to the ball room that she became aware of the many eyes that were following herself and Lord Bridgerton.

Thankfully, supper was announced, and she was able to take refuge between her cousin and Katherine, both of whom were vastly amused by her desire to hide.

"Are you disliking the spotlight, Violet?" Cordelia murmured as she took a sip of her wine.

"There are many eyes upon you," Katherine observed, "Maybe you and the Viscount should not have maintained such intense eye contact."

"It is ridiculous that one cannot dance with a new partner without arising such speculation," Violet muttered.

"That would be far more convincing if you were not pink at the moment," Cordelia replied.

"Speaking of partners, who have you danced with tonight, cousin?" Violet asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

There followed a usual conversation about Cordelia's preference for this lord or that duke and she happily sunk back into her anonymity. Katherine was then asked about her partner and Violet was just starting to fall back into her usual state of calm enjoyment when Miss Felicity Kendall approached their table with a wide smile.

"Miss Clympton, might I speak with you?" she asked.

Nonplussed, Violet nodded and rose. Miss Kendall tucked her arm through hers and let her towards one of the elaborate floral displays.

"We are all agog, my dear Violet, over your dance with the Viscount! Is it true that you only met him for the first time tonight?"

Longing to fall back into her old role as "Wallflower of the Ton", Violet managed to find a smile and beamed back at Miss Kendall with the same level of falsity.

"Indeed, Miss Kendall, I have only met his lordship tonight. He is most agreeable and an excellent dancer. His company was highly diverting, I do assure you."

Miss Kendall's smile thinned slightly, but she pushed on nonetheless, "It amazes me that you did not feel scorched under the blazing looks he kept throwing your way."

"I cannot imagine what you mean," Violet replied with as believable a look of wide-eyed innocence as she could manage, "I was focussed upon my steps, a waltz can get so complicated do you not find?"

The blonde beauty tried a final attempt for some titbit of gossip to share, "Was he not very eager to make your dear Mama's acquaintance?"

"He was good enough to bring me a lemonade if that is what you mean, my mother just happened to join me on the terrace when he did. Oh, and I see her beckoning to me, if you will excuse me," Violet answered with a small curtsey before hurrying off to join her mother.

Lady Clympton was vastly amused and made space for her daughter next to her. "Struggling with being the centre of attention, dearest?" she enquired.

Violet pulled a face behind her teacup, "I miss being invisible, Mama," she muttered.

Her mother's face softened for a moment, "Don't worry Violet, soon there will be another scandal and a fresher connection to gossip about. The Ton, as we know, are a fickle lot."

The rest of supper passed calmly enough for Violet and she enjoyed a relaxed pair of dances with Mr Briggs and Timothy, (though the latter did tease her for having "created a scandal"). In response, she merely teased him back and allowed herself to take part in their usual bantering rapport.

It was only once Lord Bridgerton came to claim her for the next dance that she felt herself colouring once more and considered sitting the dance out. When it came to it, however, she found that she could not resist his hand and followed him quietly to the dance.

The Viscount was quick to engage her in conversation and soon helped her to forget her self-consciousness as they enjoyed a lively jig. There was much circling and partner swapping, so they did not converse as freely as they had done in the waltz. However, Violet found herself relieved by the distance created as it allowed her to think and consider her conduct earlier that evening. She was starting to ponder whether she had been too forward, too flirtatious and preoccupied with Lord Bridgerton. Surely such fervour would be considered unmaidenly or unbecoming to one of her station?

She was so deep in her contemplations that she mixed the quizzical glances her partner was sending her and completed the last part of the dance distractedly. She was still preoccupied when he started to lead her back to her mother but then led her towards a windowed alcove instead. It was still visible to the room but offered them some privacy.

"Might I enquire what has caused such deep reflections, Miss Clympton?"

Violet felt herself colouring and struggled to find an answer, "I … was just pondering the … gossips on the Ton, my lord," she replied eventually. "I do find the whole notion of gossip ridiculous."

"You mean how a single look can be thought to proclaim an attachment?" he guessed. She could not find the words to reply and merely nodded. The Viscount looked uncomfortable and struggled to find words, it appeared to be an unusual thing for him. "I did not expect the scrutiny to be quite so …"

"Intense?" she offered.

He smiled, "I confess, I did not expect a ball room to have so much in common with a circus arena."

"I also am not used to such inspection. I have thoroughly enjoyed being anonymous at such events for a while now. My Aunt refers to ladies such as myself as the "Wallflowers of the Ton"."

Lord Bridgerton laughed, "The Wallflowers? Meaning those who remain at the edges …"

"And are happy to do so," she finished for him. "Being the "diamond of the season" comes with a great deal of examination, my lord and I am not at all a fan of it. I am afraid that your title is to blame."

"An affliction I am afraid that I cannot escape from!" he replied merrily. "But I did want to apologise if the intensity of my gaze disconcerted you."

Violet found a smile, "As I remember it, I was staring at you first, my lord." She then made to move away for fear of where this conversation would lead. Not, however, before he stayed her with a quick word,

"Might I be so bold as to call upon you tomorrow?"

Without turning she managed to whisper back, "I believe we are open to callers from eleven," before returning to the light and merriment of the ball room.

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Kairos - an Ancient Greek word meaning the right, critical, or opportune moment.