Chapter 18

The Fadden household had finally arrived in London, and as their carriage gently trundled down the road, while her parents discussed and marveled at the newly constructed sites, Bridget's expression remained as solemn as it had been for days.

Her mother, noticing this persistent gloom, began trying her utmost to uplift her spirits, engaging in lively chatter about the grandeur of the upcoming event.

"Oh, Bridget, my dear, just imagine the splendor of the ball tonight! The dazzling gowns, the delightful music, and the handsome dance partners awaiting you," she squealed softly and reached for her daughter's hand.

"You must dance with Lord Harrington. Perhaps you will even catch the eye of the charming Mr. Westley. You've heard of the recent accomplishments of his new business, have you not?"

Ruth tried to keep her expression from falling at her daughter's lack of response. She waved it off and grinned even wider. "Nevertheless, I have written quite a few names on your card! Only eligible and respectable bachelors, of course."

She carried on, chattering excitedly, yet despite her well-intentioned efforts, Bridget remained silent, her disinterest palpable. It was evident that her heart was not swayed by the allure of the ball in any manner.

The Countess pursed her lips before continuing, "See here, there is also the handsome Lord Baron, and Lord Smithswaver, whom I quite believe?—"

"Ruth, if the girl does not wish to have many dances, then she does not have to." Leonard's voice cut through the air suddenly, surprising both women.

The box fell into a stunned silence as his words sank in. Bridget's heart thumped, unsure of how to respond to her father's unexpected intervention. Her mother's eyes widened with astonishment, mirroring her confusion.

Her father turned his attention directly to her, his gaze filled with a rare tenderness. "Bridget," he began, his voice softer than she had ever heard it before. "You needn't feel obligated to wholly conform to Society's expectations on this matter, as you've always wished."

A little smile graced his lips as he nodded at her. "This is your night, one of great importance as we have discussed. I choose to trust you, and I give you the freedom to choose your dances as you please. Focus on enjoying the ball above all else."

The weight of her father's words settled upon her, leaving her speechless. It was a stark contrast to his usual demeanor, and she was left confused between feeling gratitude or bewilderment.

She nodded, unable to find the right words to express her thoughts. She caught her mother's jaw drop from the corner of her eye and nearly burst into laughter.

The air in the carriage felt lighter, yet Bridget's mind raced with questions. She wondered what had prompted her father's change of heart.

She watched her mother glance at her father, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity. It was clear that she, too, was grappling with the unexpected turn of events.

Still, both of them knew better than to question Leonard's kind actions. The man was an enigma.

At long last, they arrived at the grand ball, a sight to behold in all its resplendent glory. The ballroom was a magnificent display of opulence, shimmering chandeliers hanging everywhere casting a warm, golden glow on the otherwise dark hall.

Walls were draped in sumptuous fabrics, their rich hues reflecting the grandeur of the occasion, and feasts of different tastes were displayed on every far corner.

The air was filled with a heavy excitement as gentlemen in their finest attire and ladies adorned in exquisite gowns mingled and conversed with animated gestures.

The sound of laughter and music filled the air, creating a symphony of joyous anticipation. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the promise of new connections and blossoming love.

Yet, amidst the bustling crowd, Bridget remained solemn, her heart heavy with thoughts that weighed her down. While the beauty of the surroundings was undeniable, it failed to ignite the spark of excitement within her.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly, her mind preoccupied with the complexities of the evening ahead.

"Lady Borthwell!" exclaimed Lady Doonesbury, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp gust of wind.

Bridget sighed inwardly, knowing what was to come as the woman, a friend of her mother, made her way towards them, her presence as imposing as ever.

The obligatory exchange of pleasantries ensued, but Bridget's attention waned as her mother and Lady Doonesbury delved into a discussion about the latest gossip.

As they prattled on, she remained standing idly by, a mere spectator to their chatter. The words washed over her like a distant murmur, her mind drifting away to more intriguing thoughts.

"Pray tell, you have heard the latest rumor about the Duke of Galway, have you not?"

And then, like a bolt of lightning, at the mention of Abel, Bridget's attention was completely captured.

"We have not heard from him since the wedding, unfortunately. Whatever has happened now?"

At her mother's question, Bridget's heart skipped a beat as she instinctively stepped closer, eager to catch every word that the two women would exchange.

Lady Doonesbury, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, glanced around to ensure their conversation remained private.

"Well, my dear friend," she began, her voice dripping with intrigue, "it would appear that the Duke is in search of a wife, and he seems to be in quite a hurry."

Ruth exchanged a surprised glance with the woman, her voice filled with disbelief. "Surely, you jest! The Duke has always been known for his bachelor ways. What could have caused this sudden change of heart?"

Lady Doonesbury leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Rumor has it that his sister's recent marriage has played a significant role in his transformation."

She stood upright and grinned happily at the women before her. "So, it seems the Fadden family is to be credited for this change in his romantic inclinations, hm?"

Bridget's delicate breaths shuddered with anger as she struggled to maintain composure. Thankfully, her mother's oblivious chatter with Lady Doonesbury provided a thin veil to conceal the storm brewing within her.

How could he? How dare he, after proclaiming his dismissal of love and deeming their kiss a mistake, now be ready to propose marriage to another? The audacity of his actions left her questioning her worth in his eyes.

As her mother's voice faded into the background, Her mind raced with thoughts of betrayal. Had she merely a pawn in his game, a mere experiment to test if he still had enough power over women's hearts?

The realization hit her like a thunderclap, shattering the delicate illusions she had woven around their brief romance.

Her gloved hands trembled, the silk fabric whispering her turmoil as she fought to control the tempest within, to maintain the facade of a composed lady of the era as she had promised. Yet, her fury threatened to consume her.

In this pivotal moment, Bridget's resolve hardened. No longer would she allow herself to be a teary victim of his obvious deceit and manipulation.

She was ready now. She would rise above the pain, reclaim her dignity, and forge her own path from that moment forward.

As the conversation continued around her, she took in a deep breath to steady herself. She vowed to herself that she would not let him see the depths of her fury either.

Instead, she would harness her anger as fuel. And the next time the Duke saw her, she would be happy and very obviously free from him.

Her heartache compelled her to take action. She was in the perfect place to begin her mission.

With a determined smile, she interrupted her mother's conversation with Lady Doonsebury.

"Mother, I believe I would like to dance now," she announced, her voice filled with anticipation.

The shock on Ruth's face quickly transformed into excitement as she stammered, "O-Oh, Bridget! That's wonderful! Who would you like to dance with?"

Bridget's smile remained unwavering as she replied, "Whomever you wish me to dance with, Mother, I shall gladly oblige."

The clock was ticking—the earlier the better. She knew she had to move on from Abel, and swiftly at that.

"If that's the case," Lady Doonesbury butted in with an excited glint in her eyes, "Lady Borthwell, would you be amenable enough to allow dear Bridget here to dance with my son?"

"Well…" Ruth turned to her daughter, curiosity and hesitation etched on her face.

"I would love to." Remaining the perfect picture of grace, Bridget smiled and nodded at Lady Doonesbury.

The woman's excitement was at an all-time high as she called for her son, eagerly introducing him to Bridget.

As the young man approached, Bridget's heart thumped loudly. It was then she realized she had not engaged with any bachelor in the ton for quite some time. She took a deep breath, reminding herself to be polite and friendly no matter the circumstance.

The young man, impeccably dressed in his finest attire, extended his hand with a charming smile.

He was not all that handsome. It was the first thing Bridget noticed. Despite knowing the Doonesburys for years, Bridget had never met their second son. He was always said to be an unconventional one, finding his way in life through constant trips and holidays overseas.

As she thought of it, she realized he was much like someone she knew…

Bridget shook her head slightly to steady her thoughts. She would not think of Abel anymore tonight—she refused it.

"Good evening, Lady Bridget," he greeted, his voice warm and inviting. "I must say, you look absolutely radiant this evening."

His eyes were kind, very kind. Bridget found herself pulled into the deepness of his hazel pupils. She returned the smile, surprised at the genuine feeling of warmth that enveloped her in his presence.

Her eyes sparkled with gratitude at his compliment. "Thank you, Lord William," she replied, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. "You are too kind."

Before the music began, William took Bridget aside and proved himself to be an excellent conversationalist. He regaled her with tales of his travels and shared his passion for literature.

Bridget was surprised. She found herself enjoying the time, captivated by his stories, his words painting vivid pictures in her mind. She was pleasantly excited to realize that beneath his not-so-glamorous exterior, there lay a kind and thoughtful soul.

Conversation between them flowed effortlessly, and each moment seemed to build a closer connection between them.

Finally, as the music started, William extended his hand once again, this time for the dance. Bridget accepted, her heart fluttering.

Suddenly, the ballroom began buzzing with excitement, and Bridget's eyes instinctively scanned the room. Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted the cause of the commotion.

Clad in a tailored black evening coat with a hint of silver embroidery, and a crisp white shirt with a meticulously tied cravat, he exuded a touch of sophistication and superiority.

His coat accentuated his broad shoulders while his black trousers and polished shoes completed the ensemble. Every detail was thoughtfully chosen, showcasing his impeccable taste. Bridget couldn't help but be captivated by his charm and undeniable handsomeness.

Already surrounded by a bevy of ladies, Abel's gaze unexpectedly found hers. Surprise crossed his face before he composed himself.

Bridget's heart raced, but she refused to acknowledge the rush of emotions that surged within her. She had decided to leave the Duke in her past, and so it would be.

"Lady Bridget?"

Summoning her strength, she returned her attention to the gentleman standing before her. Her smile radiated warmth as she graciously accepted his invitation to dance.