The ball was quite beautiful and Bridgette had to confess that, despite the fact that various gentlemen immediately came to seek her out for a dance— gentlemen whom she knew were seeking her out simply because she was a wealthy widow — she found herself smiling brightly as the music began for the first dance of the evening.
Thankfully, it was a dance that she did not have to engage in, giving her a chance to collect herself, to watch the other ladies and gentlemen sweeping across the floor and allowing herself a long breath out, pushing the last of the tension away.
She could not explain it but seeing Lord Millerton again earlier that day had sent her into a very strange flurry that she could not quite explain. Last Season, she had found herself trying to help her dear friend, Miss Hemmingway, only to discover that there was a darkness within the depths of the situation that she had not expected. Lord Millerton had been there on the evening that it had all come to an end and the terrible truth had been revealed; when she had been frantic in her efforts to find Miss Hemmingway, only to discover that Miss Hemmingway’s very life had been threatened. He had supported her then and she had found herself filled with a deep regard for him, but it was a regard that she supposed was not returned. He had left London soon afterwards and she had not heard from him since. Perhaps it had been foolish of her to simply interrupt him as he had walked along the street, but the words of greeting had left her mouth before she had been able to stop them.
“Lady Callander, can that be you?”
Bridgette gave a small start, hurried from her thoughts before she was ready, turning to greet none other than an old acquaintance, whom she recognized from the previous Season. “Lady Madeline!” she exclaimed, greeting the lady warmly. “How good to see you again!”
Lady Madeline was the daughter of the Earl of Hamilton and, as such, was very much pursued by the gentlemen of the ton, even though the Earl was involved in shipping and trading rather than by more respectable means. They did not share a close acquaintance but Bridgette had to admit that she felt herself rather grateful that Lady Madeline had come to speak to her this evening. They were only a few years apart in age, for Bridgette had been married almost as soon as she had entered London.
“I confess that I am rather weary already and the ball has only just begun!” Lady Madeline replied, with a chuckle. “My father thinks I am being most ungrateful, of course, as though I ought to be glad for every modicum of attention that the gentlemen of London throw at me, but I confess that I am growing rather tired of it.”
Bridgette laughed, shaking her head ruefully. “That is my feeling also,” she said, with a sigh. “But then again, I have no need to marry again, given that my husband made certain that I would have enough to live comfortably for the rest of my days.” She tipped her head, taking in Lady Madeline, with her raven hair and flashing green eyes that glittered like emeralds. Bridgette felt rather dull in comparison. “Surely you will have to marry soon?”
Lady Madeline sighed, folding her arms across her chest and giving every appearance of someone rather troubled with what was being asked of her. “My father insists on encouraging me to do so but I confess that I have no eagerness to step forward into matrimony as yet,” she said, with a shrug. “The gentlemen who pursue me do not care anything for me, but rather for the dowry that will come to them if I was to marry.” She rolled her eyes, behaving in what Bridgette considered to be a less than proper manner — although that was, she considered, a little refreshing. It was rather nice to hear the lady speak of such things with complete honesty instead of pretending that all was just as she hoped for. After a moment, she also noted that there appeared to be no companion nor parent with Lady Madeline. Was that because she refused such a thing? Or was it because she had slipped away, unwilling to remain fixed within the bounds of propriety?
Seeing Lady Madeline’s searching gaze, Bridgette felt a small flush warm her cheeks, spreading her hands as she began to speak. “I am also in such a position,” she admitted, honestly, wondering if a camaraderie could be struck up between them. “Being a wealthy widow means that gentlemen are eager to make my acquaintance, but not for the reasons I might hope!”
Lady Madeline put a gentle hand on Bridgette’s shoulder. “They are the ones who are failing, Lady Callander, not you,” she said, firmly. “If they do not want to make your acquaintance in order that they might know you a little better, then that is their own foolishness.”
Bridgette smiled at her and after a moment, Lady Madeline graced her back with a smile of her own.
“Mayhap we ought to assist each other,” she said, hopefully. “I will admit that I am a little alone this Season, for whilst my very dear friend, Lady Franks, is to be present this Season, I have not yet seen her and certainly, she will be very eager to spend time with her husband, of course.”
“Of course,” Lady Madeline agreed, looking a little puzzled.
“Therefore, given that we are both facing the same struggles within society, mayhap we might warn each other as to which gentlemen ought to be refused without question,” Bridgette continued, seeing the way that Lady Madeline’s eyes lit up almost immediately. “And, if there is ever some interest from a particular gentleman, the other will assess his attributes also and mayhap quietly prod about to see if there is any kind of gossip that might then add a little more knowledge of the fellow.”
Lady Madeline considered this for a moment, her lips bunching together as she looked back steadily at Bridgette. Bridgette herself felt her cheeks warm a little more, clearing her throat and fearing that she had already overstepped, having suggested something to Lady Madeline that she might find more than a little improper.
“That is a wonderful idea!”
Immediately, Bridgette’s heart flew into a quickened rhythm, relieved that Lady Madeline had not immediately refused her or laughed at her
suggestion.
“I admit that most of my acquaintances think I am quite foolish for behaving so, and tell me that I ought to be seeking out a husband, just as my father has suggested,” Lady Madeline continued, “and whilst I hope that I can have one more Season without being forced towards courtship and engagement, it would be good to have someone coming alongside me in the very fashion you have suggested.” Her hand reached out and caught Bridgette’s, squeezing her fingers tightly. “I am sure we shall become very dear friends, Lady Callander.”
“Bridgette, please,” Bridgette replied, as Lady Madeline smiled all the more brightly. “If we are to become very good friends, as you say, then I think it only proper for you to address me so.”
“How wonderful!” Lady Madeline exclaimed, her eyes shining. “Then let us begin this very evening!” Her eyes darted to something behind Bridgette’s shoulder, her smile fading slightly. “There is a gentleman approaching you already, Lady Callander — I mean, Bridgette.” Her lips quirked but her eyes remained on the approaching gentleman. “I do not think I am acquainted with him.”
Bridgette caught her breath, wondering if it was to be Lord Millerton. Her hand pressed lightly against her stomach, wondering at the strange sensation of butterflies fluttering their wings gently, merely at the thought of him. Was she anxious about what he thought of her, given their earlier conversation? Or was there something about being in his company again that sent a thrill of excitement straight through her?
Turning slightly, she smiled at Lady Madeline, who finally dragged her gaze back to Bridgette’s face. They said nothing to each other, the conversation of other guests floating about them as they each awaited the arrival of this gentleman.
“Lady Madeline!”
Bridgette blinked in astonishment, turning slowly to see a gentlemen she did not recognize bowing low in front of Lady Madeline. Lady Madeline also appeared rather astonished, with her eyes wide with surprise. When the gentleman rose from his bow, they both curtsied at once, with Bridgette surprised at the disappointment that crested up within her like a wave that it was not Lord Millerton as she had thought.
“Lord…..Lord Chesterfield?”
Lady Madeline’s voice held a good deal of puzzlement, making Bridgette smile inwardly. The lady clearly had no qualms about making it apparent that she wasn’t sure whether or not she had the right name for the gentleman, although she could see from the way that his smile faded at the edge that he was a little displeased with the fact that she did not immediately recall him.
“Yes, Lady Madeline,” he said, dipping his head again. “You are quite correct.”
“I see.” Lady Madeline gave him an assessing gaze, letting her eyes rove up and down as she took him in. “You have come to London for the Season, then?”