A vision in purple
"A complete disaster, if I may say so myself." My mother frets, striding up and down the empty hall as we stand at the end and wait for her to finish this little routine. "The four of you will have to work considerably harder at the ball this evening to make up for the horror show that was! Prudence, you could not have stayed on your feet for even a moment longer? Oh! And in front of the queen herself, not to mention the rest of the ton! I am so ashamed I shall not be able to leave the house for the duration of the season!"
"Mama, that is not completely fair. After all, the queen did seem to like Peaches." Penelope is quick to defend me, which I do appreciate, but it is something I could do myself if I wished to, I just did not see the point. It is not as though she shall ever listen anyway, my mother was not known for her listening, only for her incessant and pointless talking. Philipa and prudence chatter amongst themselves, scoffing at Penelope's comment. "Well she was most certainly not complimenting either of you two, was she?"
"Quiet, Penelope. Even if Peaches marries well, what am I to do with the three of you? We must marry you all this season." She continues to shake her head as though she is in disbelief as to what just happened, before she throws her arms upwards and exclaims, leaving us to prepare for the ball tonight on our own with our ladies fo help us.
"Mama cannot even bare to look at us. That surely cannot bode well for this season. Perhaps I shall not have to marry after all." Penelope joins me. Her short, stocky frame slumps down by the side of me, and although she tries to act disappointed, we both know that she is not. She did not want to enter the marriage market this year and she had begged our mother to allow her to wait until next year, but the more she pleaded, the more our mother decided it was certainly not going to happen. As I looked at her, I did think how much easier it may be for her to find a husband if our mother did not insist on dressing her up in such a hideous yellow. She was the most amicable of my sisters and I loved her dearly, but she did not half look awful in yellow. "At least we shall have each other at the ball tonight, that shall be one saving grace of it all, do you not think?"
"You are right. At least we are not all alone in this. Mama cannot be angry with all of us, can she?" I am careful as I brush one of her curls slightly from her face. "There. How will the callers see just how beautiful you are if you have those curls covering your face?"
"I do think that is exactly the reason mama makes me wear these curls, so that they do cover my face." Penelope laughs, and so I do as well, before she stands and assists me to my feet. "Shall we go to the ball? I do believe I can hear the string quartet beginning already, and I do remember how much you enjoy to dance. You are a vision in purple!" She does not give me any form of choice, gripping into my arm and leading me into the ball.
In that moment, I enter the grandest ballroom I could have ever imagined. Finally now, I can have a proper look around, and so I do, tilting my head at the ceiling to look at the most wonderful painting of heavenly beings. "Oh Pen, imagine being lucky enough to be the one who gets to paint the ceiling of the such a place as this... I could never imagine such an honour."
"Then perhaps you should show the queen your paintings, and she shall let you paint all over her palace, for this artist has no talent compared to your own." My sister enjoys complimenting everyone, I think. I do not know why, whether it is because she is simply good at it or because she wishes that someone, someday, will compliment her as she compliments so many countless others. "I see Colin. I shall return to you after I have discussed with him. Do excuse me, sister."
"Of course." I smile to her, a little irritated but not at all surprised as she rushes off speak to Collin Bridgerton. As much as she denies it, she has been in love with him since we have been children. I do hope that one day he does return the favour, although I do in fact doubt it. Unaccompanied, as my mother is desperate to introduce prudence and Phillipa, I am left to my own devices. I have not been to the palace before and so I am eager to explore, but I am quickly stopped by an older man I know that I should recognise but I do not know why. "Oh, my lord."
"Young Peaches, my. What a woman you have grown into." As he smiles at me, I can see his rotting teeth residing in his mouth and I am desperate for him to stop smiling so that I do not have to see them any longer. As he talks, they are all I can focus my attention on. "It must have been ten years since I have seen you and your sisters. Your mother has been keeping you all hidden away!"
"Yes, my lord. My mother thought it best that we were educated at home and resided there for the majority-"
"Ah yes! A smart woman, your mother. I would also not want to show off those sisters of yours." He takes a step towards me, and in that moment, I can not only see his rotting gums, but I can smell them, and it takes all I have not to actively wretch.
I have to excuse myself or else I am sure that I will vomit right here, all over the gentleman's shoes, and I do not believe my mother would be too enamoured with that.
"Ah, my lady, there you are." I am suddenly accosted by a tall, dark, and frankly handsome man, who offers me a gracious smile. He has two drinks in his hand, and he holds one out to me, which I take instantly to complete his facade. "Oh, Lord Berbrooke. What a pleasure to see you. Would you excuse us?" The older man, who I now remember to be Berbrooke, leaves with a huff, which leaves me alone with my mysterious saviour. As I take a closer look at him, I realise that I do in fact recognise him, he is one of the bridgerton brothers. Penelope speaks of Colin enough for me to be sure it is not him, I would recognise Anthony's sideburns, and so that leaves only one. "Dear god, lady featherington. Do please tell that you are not stood searching your brains for my name. We have lived across the street from each other since we have been infants, have we not?"
"I do believe you to be Benedict Bridgerton, but I am too worried to say so with too much certainty in case I am wrong. There is surely nothing more embarrassing for a lady." As I meet his eyes, and he presents me with the loveliest smile I have ever witnessed, I cannot help but smile back.