1. Diamond Of The First Water

"He stepped down,

trying not to look long at her,

as if she were the sun.

Yet he saw her,

like the sun,

even without looking."

-Leo Tolstoy

Daphne's P.O.V.- London, 1813

All I ever wanted was to be educated; that's all I asked of my beloved father, Edmund. After our mother died, he granted my wish and hired me a slew of tutors. I stayed with them until I turned nineteen and Father announced it was suddenly time for me to come out. We clambered up in the carriage and set forth for the heart of London, where the matching ceremony would take place. My two eldest brothers were accompanying us on the journey.

While I was gazing out the carriage window at the passing scenery, the three men in my company were less enthusiastic. It took me a moment to realize that all eyes fixed onto me somewhat anxiously. I blinked puzzled from my brothers to Father. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Father didn't react immediately but flinched after a minute of considering my question. "Huh? Oh, no…. No, dearest! Nothing's wrong. We're just….. anxious to arrive in London; that's all." Satisfised with this answer, I grinned and leaned back in my seat next to my oldest brother, Anthony. I felt his body was stiff and tense beside mine for some reason. Was he unhappy about something? He and Benny were being awfully quiet the whole ride.

"I'm so excited to see the palace," I said, if only to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence. Father nodded. "I know you are, dearest," then he took a second to clear his throat. "Now, Daphne. When we arrive at the palace, you know that you and I will enter through the right wing and your brothers through the left." "Yes, I know, Father," single women and men were to be kept strictly apart until the Engagement Ball that first night. Father could come in the women's section with me because he was a parent and widower, which meant he would not be taking part in the ceremony.

Father's head lowered a tad after this, as if he wanted to say more on the subject. "You may be confused about some certain…. particularities, but that's why I'm here. I'll be there to help you every step of the way with this, my darling. You have nothing to worry about." "You too, Father. At least we know one of us will get married this Season," Benedict quipped, earning a sharp glare from Anthony. Father also did not look amused. "I would have liked to have kept your sister home a few more years, but you know the law. All ladies, when they turn nineteen, must appear before her majesty so that she might assign them a suitable match. The queen will decide on a husband for Daphne… and the rest of us will just have to grin and bear it," he muttered bitterly under his breath. I said nothing but simply stared at our father. I know he's been dreading this day since I was a child.

He's most correct. It's British law and custom that all upper-class marriages must be arranged. Love-matches are simply unheard of; it's one of our oldest traditions and fallen out of fashion in the rest of Europe. But as always, Britain had to stay behind the times and cling onto senseless laws. I suppose it is not automatically a death sentence, metaphorically wise. Mother and Father were matched when Mother was my age, and their marriage turned out rather splendidly. Now I was raised not to have the same expectations for my own husband, but my parents were proof that love could blossom in arranged marriages. And to be honest, I was not too concerned with it; Father already hired another expensive Latin tutor as a wedding present. Since I was coming into the marriage with him, my future husband could not dismiss him without Father's permission- something I was much grateful for.

The carriage pulled up into London's main street headed to the palace gardens. Ours was in a que of several other carriages, all going to the same place. One fancy ride after another. My brothers were soon complaining of the long wait time, which was long considering that each carriage needed to have its luggage unloaded. Luckily for us we had a minor estate in London where we would meet the rest of my siblings later. I mean, "we" as in my father, two brothers… and my fiancé. The very thought that the next time I saw my whole family I'd be engaged made my fingers curl. Anthony and Benedict, meanwhile, were fixated on the slow speed of the carriages. "The ceremony will be over by the time we arrive," Anthony uttered sharply.

Not exactly. Though it did take so time the carriage did eventually come to a stop. The footman put the step down, and Anthony got out first, followed by Benedict, and then Father, who helped me climb down. The four of us stood about wordlessly for a minute as the carriage drove off, then my brothers turned to face us. Father grinned at his sons. "Well, we'll see you boys inside. Come, Daphne," he next told me. I kissed Anthony and Benedict on the cheek before following Father into the right wing of the palace entrance: the ladies' quarters.

Admittedly it felt awkward being there with Father; everyone else was there either with their mother or aunt. But Father acted as if this was totally normal, and it soon became apparent to me that the widows in the room had their eye on him. Not that he noticed, of course. He was too busy trying to find a changing space for me. It was getting more and more crowded the further we went in. Father's hand stuck back out for mine. "Here, take my hand, Daphne." I did as I was told and let me guide me to a quieter part of the wing.

Of course we did find a spare room where he left me to change. Tonight was to be the most important of my life, or so I've been told. Personally I think that night will be when I become proficient in Latin, Greek, French, and German, but this was important too. A lady's maid came in to help me into my white, lacey dress. All the girls- who were all nineteen like me- were to get dressed up to present ourselves to the queen. Once that was done there was to be the Engagement Ball, where the matching ceremony would take place. We weren't supposed to see the suitors before the ball, which was just as well. Why see someone you fancy and get your hopes up just for them to be dashed away?

The dressing room doors opened and out I stepped, ready to meet the queen- my future match-maker. Father was leaning up against a marble pillar, staring off somewhere when I approached him. He had to do a double-take once he noticed I'd come out. His whole body perked up, his face stiffened. His jaw hung open wordlessly for a moment. Just a moment. "Good lord, look at you….." He stammered, pausing before he was able to continue. His eyes lowered ever so gently. "You look just like your mother… You're beautiful." The most brilliant smile drew across my face. "Thank you, Father." "Come," he stuck out his arm for me. Arm-in-arm we joined the other young ladies and their escorts. One by one we were to enter the royal throne room where the queen was sitting. Our presence would be announced and then the queen who scan us over and quickly judge us before quickly moving on. The whole thing reminded me of livestock competition, but I held my tongue and did as everyone else did.

Before it was our turn to enter the throne room, Father gave my arm a squeeze. "Do not be frightened, dearest," he whispered into my ear. Then the announcer spoke in that booming voice of his: "Miss Daphne Bridgerton. Presented by her father, the right honourable Viscount Bridgerton ."

Terror suddenly gripped me as the double set of doors drew open. Oh no…. Here we go. Once I enter this room, my life will change forever. I'm going to get married; I'm going to be someone's wife. I won't be a Bridgerton anymore….. I won't live with Father or my siblings anymore. Father gave my heel a tap with the tip of his boot as a signal to move forward. Move forward…. Here I go…..

Literally moving forward with my life.

The queen didn't look at all like I thought she would, but then I'm not a good judge of these sorts of things. She didn't intimidate me like I thought she would. She instead wore an expression which betrayed- to me anyway- that she'd had her heart broken before. That's interesting; the king was still alive, and I was told their marriage was by all accounts a happy one. Perhaps that is just one of those rumours one hears. I didn't read Lady Whistledown or any gossip column, too studious in my work to for any of that.

It all happened so fast. I entered, I bowed, and while I still had my head down, I surprisingly felt a couple of unfamiliar fingers underneath my chin. Imagine my utter shock when my head was lifted upward to find none other than the queen gazing back down at me. And she was smiling. "Flawless, my dear," I heard her voice for the first time. Uhhhhhhhhh? I didn't know what to make of it when she next kissed my forehead. Is there a reason she's doing that? Maybe I'm just too sensible for these sorts of things. My good pen-pal, one Jane Austen, wrote a book on sensible characters. Doesn't seem to be a desirable trait, but what can I say? I'm no Marianne Dashwood.

Or at least I don't think I am.

I'm not sure what that was all about but Father seemed pleased. He did; the other ladies and their escorts in the room did not. Thank goodness there were no men- besides Father and the announcer- here, lest they get the wrong idea. The queen seems to like me for some reason. I suppose the obvious explanation is that she likes my looks, but that's hardly flattering. I'd always been so proud of my intellect and character over anything else. It made me wonder what kind of man her majesty would pair me with….. And that thought made me nervous.

"She won't match me with someone just because she thinks we look well together, will she Father?" I asked him on our way back to the right wing. Now that the presentations were over, it was time to prepare for the ceremony. Father, who was holding my arm in his, gave it a tight squeeze. "Course not, dearest. The queen knows that all outward beauty is fleeting. It is the inner workings of your mind that will impress. That, and your kindness. I cannot imagine a soul who is able to resist your charm." "But how can she make a suitable match for me if she knows nothing about me, besides how I look? What if the man she chooses is a rack?" "You can always turn down the match, dearest. Nothing's settled yet," he informed me. "But if I deny the match, then I can never marry anyone else in Britain. It's the law," I countered worried. Father patted the back of my hand with tenderness. "Stop worrying, my darling; you'll make yourself sick. We don't even know who your intended is yet. And if he is a rake, I'm sure you'll be a good moralizing force on him."

I grimaced. "But it's not my responsibility to moralize anyone. And my friend, Jane, doesn't think it's even possible to reform someone which such a damaged character as a rake has." "Jane? You mean Jane Austen? What did I say about writing to her? I swear, that spinster is just a bad an influence on you as that other woman you were pen-pals with. What's her name?" "Mary Shelley? Ah! But she left Britain to go to Switzerland to marry her beloved," I snapped my fingers. Father rolled his eyes. "All these female authors…. What's next? A female monarch?" Oooooooh, that comment did not age well.

I didn't reply and Father continued. "I'm just saying, give whomever her majesty selects a chance. Spinsterhood is not desirable, dearest; trust me on this." "Father…." "I'm serious. Unmarried women fall to the fringes of society. Besides, if you back out of your marriage it sets a bad precedent for your sisters. The queen will have to make matches for them one day too," he relayed, and I sighed, letting my eyes drift down. "I understand, Father. But I'm not the only one going into this marriage. What if my fiancé doesn't like me?" "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, darling. You are the sweetest girl under the sun. Any man would be a fool to let you slip out from his fingers." This made me smile but I wasn't contented just yet. I gave my father's arm a tight squeeze. "I want to do what's best for our family…. But I'm nervous. I don't know if my future husband is a good or bad man, and I don't know how to change him if he is bad," I don't think I even want to. Jane seems to be right; a lady cannot intentionally change a fellow. I don't believe it is possible anyway…..

Father's feet came to a halt, making me stop as well. I blinked back to him surprised but his expression was firm and sincere. His lips parted a little before he started talking. "Daphne, please. You need to take this seriously. I will give you anything you want; I will provide all you desire, as will Anthony once I am gone. You will be well taken care of regardless who you're matched with. All I ask in return is that you try and get along with your husband. Marry whomever the queen chooses- that is what is best for our family. That is what is best for you." Pausing here for a moment, his fingers reached up to brush some stray hairs off my cheek. His smile grew as he did so, relaxing his cheeks a little. His eyes softened on mine so lovingly….. "I love you, dearest. You are so incredibly precious to me…. to your mother. I would not ask you to do this if it was not in your best interest. You're going to get married…. And the man who marries you will be the luckiest in the entire world.

You will be the best thing he never saw coming."