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As the morning dawned bright and clear, Eloise sat at the breakfast table, her plate untouched as she stared out the window at the manicured lawns of Bridgerton House. The sunlight was golden, the air tranquil, and yet, Eloise felt anything but serene.
“You’re brooding,” Benedict remarked, reaching across the table to snag a piece of toast from her plate.
“I am thinking,” she corrected, swatting his hand away.
“That’s what I said,” Benedict replied cheerfully, popping the toast into his mouth. “Thinking. Brooding. Same thing when you’re involved.”
Eloise scowled. “If you must know, I’m wondering what compels a man to act the fool at a ball. Any insights?”
“Ah,” Benedict said, his grin widening. “We’re discussing Anthony, then.”
Across the table, Anthony’s head snapped up. He’d been buried in correspondence, the lines of tension in his jaw suggesting a morning already full of responsibilities. “What’s this about me?”
“Nothing,” Eloise said sweetly. “Just an observation that you spent more time glowering at the refreshments table than enjoying the ball. Are you developing an attachment to the punch bowl?”
Anthony’s expression darkened. “If you must know, I was keeping an eye on Benedict. Someone had to.”
“Keeping an eye on me?” Benedict repeated, incredulous. “You stood there like a sentinel, glaring daggers at anyone who dared to look at Miss Sharma.”
Anthony’s jaw tightened. “She’s new to our social circles. It’s only right that I ensure she’s treated with respect.”
“Respect,” Benedict drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Because from where I stood, it looked more like possessiveness.”
Eloise snorted into her tea, drawing twin glares from her brothers. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying this rare moment of honesty between you two.”
“Enough,” Anthony snapped. He pushed back his chair and rose to his full height, his tone brooking no argument. “I have work to attend to. Some of us don’t have the luxury of idle mornings.”
He left the room in a swirl of authority, leaving Benedict and Eloise to share a knowing look.
“Do you think he realizes?” Benedict asked, breaking the silence.
“Realizes what?” Eloise replied.
“That he’s in trouble,” Benedict said with a grin. “Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? Anthony Bridgerton, who swore never to be ensnared by love, is perilously close to losing his composure over Miss Sharma.”
Eloise shook her head, but a smile tugged at her lips. “If it were just Anthony, I would not worry. But now you’re involved too.”
“Me?” Benedict pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Why, sister, I’m merely offering my companionship to a charming young lady. It’s not my fault if she finds me irresistible.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’ve always thought yourself irresistible. But if you two turn this into a competition, Kate will never forgive either of you. And neither will I.”
Benedict leaned forward, his expression softening. “You care for her.”
“She’s my friend,” Eloise said simply. “And I won’t have you or Anthony treating her like a prize to be won. She deserves better.”
Benedict nodded, surprising her. “She does. Perhaps we all do.”
Eloise wasn’t sure what to make of that, so she let the matter drop.
-
Later that afternoon, Kate found herself strolling through Hyde Park with Eloise, their parasols shielding them from the warm sun. The park was bustling with society, and the sound of laughter and carriage wheels filled the air.
Kate glanced at her friend, noting the tight set of her jaw. “You’re unusually quiet today. Something on your mind?”
Eloise hesitated, then sighed. “It’s my brothers.”
“That narrows it down,” Kate said dryly. “Which one?”
“All of them, really, but particularly Anthony and Benedict. They’re…” She trailed off, searching for the right word.
“Annoying? Overbearing?” Kate offered, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
“Circling,” Eloise said finally. “Like hawks. Around you.”
Kate’s steps faltered, and she looked at Eloise in surprise. “What?”
“You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Eloise said, stopping to face her. “Anthony stares at you like you’re an unsolvable riddle, and Benedict… well, Benedict makes it perfectly clear he’d like to solve you.”
Kate felt her cheeks flush. “Eloise!”
“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” Eloise said quickly. “I just… I want you to be careful. My brothers can be charming, but they’re also impossible.”
Kate sighed, lowering her parasol. “I appreciate your concern, truly. But I can handle myself. Besides, Lord Bridgerton’s interest in me is purely protective. He sees me as your friend, nothing more.”
Eloise raised an eyebrow. “If you believe that, then you don’t know Anthony as well as you think.”
“And Mr. Bridgerton?” Kate asked, her voice softer.
Eloise hesitated, then shrugged. “Benedict is different. He doesn’t take things as seriously as Anthony, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t serious about you.”
Kate looked away, her thoughts swirling.
She wasn’t sure what to make of either Bridgerton brother, let alone her own feelings.
-
Meanwhile, across the park, Cressida was fuming. She had spent the entirety of the Danbury Ball dodging Phillip’s awkward attempts at conversation and Eloise’s infuriating remarks. And now, she found herself once again in Eloise’s orbit, entirely by accident.
“Miss Bridgerton,” Cressida said, her tone cool as she approached Eloise and Kate.
Eloise turned, her expression wary. “Miss Cowper. What a surprise.”
“Hardly,” Cressida replied. “You Bridgertons have a way of making yourselves unavoidable.”
Eloise opened her mouth to retort, but Kate quickly stepped in. “Miss Cowper, how lovely to see you. Are you enjoying the afternoon?”
Cressida’s gaze flicked to Kate, her demeanor softening just slightly. “It’s pleasant enough, though I must say the company is varied.”
Kate smiled politely, but Eloise bristled. “If you’re referring to me, Miss Cowper, you can say it outright. I won’t be offended.”
“Of course not,” Cressida said with a saccharine smile. “You’d have to care what I think first.”
Before Eloise could reply, Phillip appeared, looking as awkward and handsome, as ever. “Miss Cowper, Miss Bridgerton, Miss Sharma,” he greeted, bowing stiffly.
Eloise barely glanced at him. “Mr. Crane. How fortuitous.”
Phillip blinked, clearly unsure whether she was being sincere or sarcastic. “I was hoping to have a word with you, Miss Bridgerton.”
Eloise sighed. “Of course you were.” She turned to Kate with a resigned look. “I’ll return shortly. Try not to let her bite,” she added in a low voice, nodding toward Cressida.
As Eloise and Phillip walked away, Cressida turned to Kate with a faint smirk. “Your friend has a way of making an impression.”
“She does,” Kate agreed, her tone neutral.
Cressida’s smirk faded as she studied Kate. “And you? Are you finding the Bridgertons as overwhelming as the rest of us?”
Kate hesitated, unsure how to answer. “They’re certainly spirited,” she said finally.
“That’s one word for it,” Cressida replied. “But be careful, Miss Sharma. Spirited men often make for the most exhausting companions.”
Kate wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a veiled insult, but before she could ask, Cressida turned and walked away.
-
As Eloise returned from her brief conversation with Phillip, she found Kate deep in thought. “What did she say to you?” Eloise asked.
“Nothing of importance,” Kate replied, though her tone suggested otherwise.
Eloise frowned, but let it drop. For now.
As the two friends resumed their walk, each was lost in their own thoughts: Eloise pondering the strange behavior of Cressida, and Kate wondering how she had managed to find herself at the center of the Bridgerton brothers’ attention.
The season, it seemed, was only just beginning.