This yearโs most sought-after invitation must surely be that of the Bridgerton masquerade ball, to be held Monday next. Indeed, one cannot take two steps without being forced to listen to some society mama speculating on who will attend, and perhaps more importantly, who will wear what.
Neither of the aforementioned topics, however, are nearly as interesting as that of the two unmarried Bridgerton brothers, Benedict and Colin. (Before anyone points out that there is a third unmarried Bridgerton brother, let This Author assure you that she is fully aware of the existence of Gregory Bridgerton. He is, however, fourteen years of age, and therefore not pertinent to this particular column, which concerns, as This Authorโs columns often do, that most sacred of sports: husband-hunting.)
Although the Misters Bridgerton are just thatโmerely Mistersโ they are still considered two of the prime catches of the season. It is a well-known fact that both are possessed of respectable fortunes, and it does not require perfect sight to know that they also possess, as do all eight of the Bridgerton offspring, the Bridgerton good looks.
Will some fortunate young lady use the mystery of a masquerade night to snare one of the eligible bachelors?
This Author isnโt even going to attempt to speculate.
LADY WHISTLEDOWNโS SOCIETY PAPERS, 31 MAY 1815
โSophie! Sophieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!โ
As screeches went, it was enough to shatter glass. Or at least an eardrum.
โComing, Rosamund! Iโm coming!โ Sophie hitched up the hem of her coarse woolen skirts and hurried up the stairs, slipping on the fourth step and only just barely managing to grab the bannister before landing on her bottom. She should have remembered that the stairs would be slick; sheโd helped the downstairs maid wax them just that morning.
Skidding to a halt in the doorway to Rosamundโs bedroom and still catching her breath, Sophie said, โYes?โ
โMy tea is cold.โ
What Sophie wanted to say was, โIt was warm when I brought it an hour ago, you lazy fiend.โ
What she did say was, โIโll get you another pot.โ Rosamund sniffed. โSee that you do.โ
Sophie stretched her lips into what the nearly blind might call a smile and picked up the tea service. โShall I leave the biscuits?โ she asked.
Rosamund gave her pretty head a shake. โI want fresh ones.โ
Shoulders slightly stooped from the weight of the overloaded tea service, Sophie exited the room, careful not to start grumbling until sheโd safely reached the hall. Rosamund was forever ordering tea, then not bothering to drink it until an hour passed. By then, of course, it was cold, so she had to order a fresh pot.
Which meant Sophie was forever running up and down the stairs, up and down, up and down. Sometimes it seemed that was all she did with her life.
Up and down, up and down.
And of course the mending, the pressing, the hairdressing, the shoe polishing, the darning, the bedmaking . . .
โSophie!โ
Sophie turned around to see Posy heading toward her.
โSophie, Iโve been meaning to ask you, do you think this color is becoming on me?โ
Sophie assessed Posyโs mermaid costume. The cut wasnโt quite right for Posy, who had never lost all of her baby fat, but the color did indeed bring out the best in her complexion. โIt is a lovely shade of green,โ Sophie replied quite honestly. โIt makes your cheeks very rosy.โ
โOh, good. Iโm so glad you like it. You do have such a knack for picking out my clothing.โ Posy smiled as she reached out and plucked a
sugared biscuit from the tray. โMother has been an absolute bear all week about the masquerade ball, and I know I shall never hear the end of it if I do not look my best. OrโโPosyโs face twisted into a grimaceโโif she thinks I do not look my best. She is determined that one of us snare one of the remaining Bridgerton brothers, you know.โ
โI know.โ
โAnd to make matters worse, that Whistledown woman has been writing about them again. It onlyโโPosy finished chewing and paused while she swallowedโโwhets her appetite.โ
โWas the column very good this morning?โ Sophie asked, shifting the tray to rest on her hip. โI havenโt had a chance to read it yet.โ
โOh, the usual stuff,โ Posy said with a wave of her hand. โReally, it can be quite humdrum, you know.โ
Sophie tried to smile and failed. Sheโd like nothing more than to live a day of Posyโs humdrum life. Well, perhaps she wouldnโt want Araminta for a mother, but she wouldnโt mind a life of parties, routs, and musicales.
โLetโs see,โ Posy mused. โThere was a review of Lady Worthโs recent ball, a bit about Viscount Guelph, who seems rather smitten with some girl from Scotland, and then a longish piece on the upcoming Bridgerton masquerade.โ
Sophie sighed. Sheโd been reading about the upcoming masquerade for weeks, and even though she was nothing but a ladyโs maid (and occasionally a housemaid as well, whenever Araminta decided she wasnโt working hard enough) she couldnโt help but wish that she could attend the ball.
โI for one will be thrilled if that Guelph viscount gets himself engaged,โ Posy remarked, reaching for another biscuit. โIt will mean one fewer bachelor for Mother to go on and on about as a potential husband. Itโs not as if I have any hope of attracting his attention anyway.โ She took a bite of the biscuit; it crunched loudly in her mouth. โI do hope Lady Whistledown is right about him.โ
โShe probably is,โ Sophie answered. She had been reading Lady Whistledownโs Society Papers since it had debuted in 1813, and the gossip columnist was almost always correct when it came to matters of the Marriage Mart.
Not, of course, that Sophie had ever had the chance to see the Marriage Mart for herself. But if one read Whistledown often enough, one could almost feel a part of London Society without actually attending any balls.
In fact, reading Whistledown was really Sophieโs one true enjoyable pastime. Sheโd already read all of the novels in the library, and as neither Araminta, Rosamund, nor Posy was particularly enamored of reading, Sophie couldnโt look forward to a new book entering the house.
But Whistledown was great fun. No one actually knew the columnistโs true identity. When the single-sheet newspaper had debuted two years earlier, speculation had been rampant. Even now, whenever Lady Whistledown reported a particularly juicy bit of gossip, people starting talking and guessing anew, wondering who on earth was able to report with such speed and accuracy.
And for Sophie, Whistledown was a tantalizing glimpse into the world that might have been hers, had her parents actually made their union legal. She would have been an earlโs daughter, not an earlโs bastard; her name Gunningworth instead of Beckett.
Just once, sheโd like to be the one stepping into the coach and attending the ball.
Instead, she was the one dressing others for their nights on the town, cinching Posyโs corset or dressing Rosamundโs hair or polishing a pair of Aramintaโs shoes.
But she could notโor at least should notโcomplain. She might have to serve as maid to Araminta and her daughters, but at least she had a home. Which was more than most girls in her position had.
When her father had died, heโd left her nothing. Well, nothing but a roof over her head. His will had ensured that she could not be turned out until she was twenty. There was no way that Araminta would forfeit four thousand pounds a year by giving Sophie the boot.
But that four thousand pounds was Aramintaโs, not Sophieโs, and Sophie hadnโt ever seen a penny of it. Gone were the fine clothes sheโd used to wear, replaced by the coarse wool of the servants. And she ate what the rest of the maids ateโwhatever Araminta, Rosamund, and Posy chose to leave behind.
Sophieโs twentieth birthday, however, had come and gone almost a year earlier, and here she was, still living at Penwood House, still waiting on
Araminta hand and foot. For some unknown reasonโprobably because she didnโt want to train (or pay) a new maidโAraminta had allowed Sophie to remain in her household.
And Sophie had stayed. If Araminta was the devil she knew, then the rest of the world was the devil she didnโt. And Sophie had no idea which would be worse.
โIsnโt that tray getting heavy?โ
Sophie blinked her way out of her reverie and focused on Posy, who was reaching for the last biscuit on the tray. Drat. Sheโd been hoping to snitch it for herself. โYes,โ she murmured. โYes, it is quite. I should really be getting to the kitchen with it.โ
Posy smiled. โI wonโt keep you any longer, but when youโre done with that, could you press my pink gown? Iโm going to wear it tonight. Oh, and I suppose the matching shoes should be readied as well. I got a bit of dirt on them last time I wore them, and you know how Mother is about shoes. Never mind that you canโt even see them under my skirt. Sheโll notice the tiniest speck of dirt the instant I lift my hem to climb a step.โ
Sophie nodded, mentally adding Posyโs requests to her daily list of chores.
โIโll see you later, then!โ Biting down on that last biscuit, Posy turned and disappeared into her bedchamber.
And Sophie trudged down to the kitchen.
A few days later, Sophie was on her knees, pins clamped between her teeth as she made last-minute alterations on Aramintaโs masquerade costume. The Queen Elizabeth gown had, of course, been delivered from the dressmaker as a perfect fit, but Araminta insisted that it was now a quarter inch too large in the waist.
โHow is that?โ Sophie asked, speaking through her teeth so the pins wouldnโt fall.
โToo tight.โ
Sophie adjusted a few pins. โWhat about that?โ โToo loose.โ
Sophie pulled out a pin and stuck it back in precisely the same spot. โThere. How does that feel?โ
Araminta twisted this way and that, then finally declared, โItโll do.โ Sophie smiled to herself as she stood to help Araminta out of the gown. โIโll need it done in an hour if weโre to get to the ball on time,โ
Araminta said.
โOf course,โ Sophie murmured. Sheโd found it easiest just to say โof courseโ on a regular basis in conversations with Araminta.
โThis ball is very important,โ Araminta said sharply. โRosamund must make an advantageous match this year. The new earlโโ She shuddered with distaste; she still considered the new earl an interloper, never mind that he was the old earlโs closest living male relative. โWell, he has told me that this is the last year we may use Penwood House in London. The nerve of the man. I am the dowager countess, after all, and Rosamund and Posy are the earlโs daughters.โ
Stepdaughters, Sophie silently corrected.
โWe have every right to use Penwood House for the season. What he plans to do with the house, Iโll never know.โ
โPerhaps he wishes to attend the season and look for a wife,โ Sophie suggested. โHeโll be wanting an heir, Iโm sure.โ
Araminta scowled. โIf Rosamund doesnโt marry into money, I donโt know what weโll do. It is so difficult to find a proper house to rent. And so expensive as well.โ
Sophie forbore to point out that at least Araminta didnโt have to pay for a ladyโs maid. In fact, until Sophie had turned twenty, sheโd received four thousand pounds per year, just for having a ladyโs maid.
Araminta snapped her fingers. โDonโt forget that Rosamund will need her hair powdered.โ
Rosamund was attending dressed as Marie Antoinette. Sophie had asked if she was planning to put a ring of faux blood around her neck. Rosamund had not been amused.
Araminta pulled on her dressing gown, cinching the sash with swift, tight movements. โAnd Posyโโ Her nose wrinkled. โWell, Posy will need your help in some manner or other, Iโm sure.โ
โIโm always glad to help Posy,โ Sophie replied.
Araminta narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out if Sophie was being insolent. โJust see that you do,โ she finally said, her syllables clipped. She stalked off to the washroom.
Sophie saluted as the door closed behind her.
โAh, there you are, Sophie,โ Rosamund said as she bustled into the room. โI need your help immediately.โ
โIโm afraid itโll have to wait untilโโ
โI said immediately!โ Rosamund snapped.
Sophie squared her shoulders and gave Rosamund a steely look. โYour mother wants me to alter her gown.โ
โJust pull the pins out and tell her you pulled it in. Sheโll never notice the difference.โ
Sophie had been considering the very same thing, and she groaned. If she did as Rosamund asked, Rosamund would tattle on her the very next day, and then Araminta would rant and rage for a week. Now she would definitely have to do the alteration.
โWhat do you need, Rosamund?โ
โThere is a tear at the hem of my costume. I have no idea how it happened.โ
โPerhaps when you tried it onโโ โDonโt be impertinent!โ
Sophie clamped her mouth shut. It was far more difficult to take orders from Rosamund than from Araminta, probably because theyโd once been equals, sharing the same schoolroom and governess.
โIt must be repaired immediately,โ Rosamund said with an affected sniff.
Sophie sighed. โJust bring it in. Iโll do it right after I finish with your motherโs. I promise youโll have it in plenty of time.โ
โI wonโt be late for this ball,โ Rosamund warned. โIf I am, I shall have
your head on a platter.โ
โYou wonโt be late,โ Sophie promised.
Rosamund made a rather huffy sound, then hurried out the door to retrieve her costume.
โOoof!โ
Sophie looked up to see Rosamund crashing into Posy, who was barreling through the door.
โWatch where youโre going, Posy!โ Rosamund snapped.
โYou could watch where youโre going, too,โ Posy pointed out.
โI was watching. Itโs impossible to get out of your way, you big oaf.โ
Posyโs cheeks stained red, and she stepped aside.
โDid you need something, Posy?โ Sophie asked, as soon as Rosamund had disappeared.
Posy nodded. โCould you set aside a little extra time to dress my hair tonight? I found some green ribbons that look a little like seaweed.โ
Sophie let out a long breath. The dark green ribbons werenโt likely to show up very well against Posyโs dark hair, but she didnโt have the heart to point that out. โIโll try, Posy, but I have to mend Rosamundโs dress and alter your motherโs.โ
โOh.โ Posy looked crestfallen. It nearly broke Sophieโs heart. Posy was the only person who was even halfway nice to her in Aramintaโs household, save for the servants. โDonโt worry,โ she assured her. โIโll make sure your hair is lovely no matter how much time we have.โ
โOh, thank you, Sophie! Iโโ
โHavenโt you gotten started on my gown yet?โ Araminta thundered as she returned from the washroom.
Sophie gulped. โI was talking with Rosamund and Posy. Rosamund tore her gown andโโ
โJust get to work!โ
โI will. Immediately.โ Sophie plopped down on the settee and turned the gown inside out so that she could take in the waist. โFaster than immediately,โ she muttered. โFaster than a hummingbirdโs wings. Faster thanโโ
โWhat are you chattering about?โ Araminta demanded. โNothing.โ
โWell, cease your prattle immediately. I find the sound of your voice particularly grating.โ
Sophie ground her teeth together.
โMama,โ Posy said, โSophie is going to dress my hair tonight likeโโ โOf course sheโs going to dress your hair. Quit your dillydallying this
minute and go put compresses on your eyes so they donโt look so puffy.โ Posyโs face fell. โMy eyes are puffy?โ
Sophie shook her head on the off chance that Posy decided to look down at her.
โYour eyes are always puffy,โ Araminta replied. โDonโt you think so, Rosamund?โ
Posy and Sophie both turned toward the door. Rosamund had just entered, carrying her Marie Antoinette gown. โAlways,โ she agreed. โBut a compress will help, Iโm sure.โ
โYou look stunning tonight,โ Araminta told Rosamund. โAnd you havenโt even started getting ready. That gold in your gown is an exquisite match to your hair.โ
Sophie shot a sympathetic look at the dark-haired Posy, who never received such compliments from her mother.
โYou shall snare one of those Bridgerton brothers,โ Araminta continued. โIโm sure of it.โ
Rosamund looked down demurely. It was an expression sheโd perfected, and Sophie had to admit it looked lovely on her. But then again, most everything looked lovely on Rosamund. Her golden hair and blue eyes were all the rage that year, and thanks to the generous dowry settled upon her by the late earl, it was widely assumed that she would make a brilliant match before the season was through.
Sophie glanced back over at Posy, who was staring at her mother with a sad, wistful expression. โYou look lovely, too, Posy,โ Sophie said impulsively.
Posyโs eyes lit up. โDo you think so?โ
โAbsolutely. And your gown is terribly original. Iโm sure there wonโt be any other mermaids.โ
โHow would you know, Sophie?โ Rosamund asked with a laugh. โItโs not as if youโve ever been out in society.โ
โIโm sure youโll have a lovely time, Posy,โ Sophie said pointedly, ignoring Rosamundโs jibe. โIโm terribly jealous. I do wish I could go.โ
Sophieโs little sigh and wish was met with absolute silence . . . followed by the raucous laughter of both Araminta and Rosamund. Even Posy giggled a bit.
โOh, thatโs rich,โ Araminta said, barely able to catch her breath. โLittle Sophie at the Bridgerton ball. They donโt allow bastards out in society, you know.โ
โI didnโt say I expected to go,โ Sophie said defensively, โjust that I wish I could.โ
โWell, you shouldnโt even bother doing that,โ Rosamund chimed in. โIf you wish for things you canโt possibly hope for, youโre only going to be
disappointed.โ
But Sophie didnโt hear what she had to say, because in that moment, the oddest thing happened. As she was turning her head toward Rosamund, she caught sight of the housekeeper standing in the doorway. It was Mrs. Gibbons, who had come up from Penwood Park in the country when the town housekeeper had passed away. And when Sophieโs eyes met hers, she winked.
Winked!
Sophie didnโt think sheโd ever seen Mrs. Gibbons wink. โSophie! Sophie! Are you listening to me?โ
Sophie turned a distracted eye toward Araminta. โIโm sorry,โ she murmured. โYou were saying?โ
โI was saying,โ Araminta said in a nasty voice, โthat you had better get to work on my gown this instant. If we are late for the ball, you will answer for it tomorrow.โ
โYes, of course,โ Sophie said quickly. She jabbed her needle into the fabric and started sewing but her mind was still on Mrs. Gibbons.
A wink?
Why on earth would she wink?
Three hours later, Sophie was standing on the front steps of Penwood House, watching first Araminta, then Rosamund, then Posy each take the footmanโs hand and climb up into the carriage. Sophie waved at Posy, who waved back, then watched the carriage roll down the street and disappear around the corner. It was barely six blocks to Bridgerton House, where the masquerade was to be held, but Araminta would have insisted upon the carriage if theyโd lived right next door.
It was important to make a grand entrance, after all.
With a sigh, Sophie turned around and made her way back up the steps. At least Araminta had, in the excitement of the moment, forgotten to leave her with a list of tasks to complete while she was gone. A free evening was a luxury indeed. Perhaps sheโd reread a novel. Or maybe she could find todayโs edition of Whistledown. Sheโd thought sheโd seen Rosamund take it into her room earlier that afternoon.
But as Sophie stepped through the front door of Penwood House, Mrs. Gibbons materialized as if from nowhere and grabbed her arm. โThereโs no time to lose!โ the housekeeper said.
Sophie looked at her as if sheโd lost her mind. โI beg your pardon?โ Mrs. Gibbons tugged at her elbow. โCome with me.โ
Sophie allowed herself to be led up the three flights of stairs to her room, a tiny little chamber tucked under the eaves. Mrs. Gibbons was acting in a most peculiar manner, but Sophie humored her and followed along. The housekeeper had always treated her with exceptional kindness, even when it was clear that Araminta disapproved.
โYouโll need to get undressed,โ Mrs. Gibbons said as she grasped the doorknob.
โWhat?โ
โWe really must rush.โ
โMrs. Gibbons, you . . .โ Sophieโs mouth fell open, and her words trailed off as she took in the scene in her bedroom. A steaming tub of water lay right in the center, and all three housemaids were bustling about. One was pouring a pitcher of water into the tub, another was fiddling with the lock on a rather mysterious-looking trunk, and the third was holding a towel and saying, โHurry! Hurry!โ
Sophie cast bewildered eyes at the lot of them. โWhat is going on?โ Mrs. Gibbons turned to her and beamed. โYou, Miss Sophia Maria
Beckett, are going to the masquerade!โ
One hour later, Sophie was transformed. The trunk had held dresses belonging to the late earlโs mother. They were all fifty years out of date, but that was no matter. The ball was a masquerade; no one expected the gowns to be of the latest styles.
At the very bottom of the trunk theyโd found an exquisite creation of shimmering silver, with a tight, pearl-encrusted bodice and the flared skirts that had been so popular during the previous century. Sophie felt like a princess just touching it. It was a bit musty from its years in the trunk, and one of the maids quickly took it outside to dab a bit of rosewater on the fabric and air it out.
Sheโd been bathed and perfumed, her hair had been dressed, and one of the housemaids had even applied a touch of rouge to her lips. โDonโt tell Miss Rosamund,โ the maid had whispered. โI nicked it from her collection.โ
โOoooh, look,โ Mrs. Gibbons said. โI found matching gloves.โ
Sophie looked up to see the housekeeper holding up a pair of long, elbow-length gloves. โLook,โ she said, taking one from Mrs. Gibbons and examining it. โThe Penwood crest. And itโs monogrammed. Right at the hem.โ
Mrs. Gibbons turned over the one in her hand. โSLG. Sarah Louisa Gunningworth. Your grandmother.โ
Sophie looked at her in surprise. Mrs. Gibbons had never referred to the earl as her father. No one at Penwood Park had ever verbally acknowledged Sophieโs blood ties to the Gunningworth family.
โWell, she is your grandmother,โ Mrs. Gibbons declared. โWeโve all danced around the issue long enough. Itโs a crime the way Rosamund and Posy are treated like daughters of the house, and you, the earlโs true blood, must sweep and serve like a maid!โ
The three housemaids nodded in agreement.
โJust once,โ Mrs. Gibbons said, โfor just one night, you will be the belle of the ball.โ With a smile on her face, she slowly turned Sophie around until she was facing the mirror.
Sophieโs breath caught. โIs that me?โ
Mrs. Gibbons nodded, her eyes suspiciously bright. โYou look lovely, dearling,โ she whispered.
Sophieโs hand moved slowly up to her hair. โDonโt muss it!โ one of the maids yelped.
โI wonโt,โ Sophie promised, her smile wobbling a bit as she fought back a tear. A touch of shimmery powder had been sprinkled onto her hair, so that she sparkled like a fairy princess. Her dark blond curls had been swept atop her head in a loose topknot, with one thick lock allowed to slide down the length of her neck. And her eyes, normally moss green, shone like emeralds.
Although Sophie suspected that might have had more to do with her unshed tears than anything else.
โHere is your mask,โ Mrs. Gibbons said briskly. It was a demi-mask, the sort that tied at the back so that Sophie would not have to use one of her hands to hold it up. โNow all we need are shoes.โ
Sophie glanced ruefully at her serviceable and ugly work shoes that sat in the corner. โI have nothing suitable for such finery, Iโm afraid.โ
The housemaid who had rouged Sophieโs lips held up a pair of white slippers. โFrom Rosamundโs closet,โ she said.
Sophie slid her right foot into one of the slippers and just as quickly slid it back out. โItโs much too big,โ she said, glancing up at Mrs. Gibbons. โIโll never be able to walk in them.โ
Mrs. Gibbons turned to the maid. โFetch a pair from Posyโs closet.โ โHers are even bigger,โ Sophie said. โI know. Iโve cleaned enough scuff
marks from them.โ
Mrs. Gibbons let out a long sigh. โThereโs nothing for it, then. We shall have to raid Aramintaโs collection.โ
Sophie shuddered. The thought of walking anywhere in Aramintaโs shoes was somewhat creepy. But it was either that or go without, and she didnโt think that bare feet would be acceptable at a fancy London masquerade.
A few minutes later the maid returned with a pair of white satin slippers, stitched in silver and adorned with exquisite faux-diamond rosettes.
Sophie was still apprehensive about wearing Aramintaโs shoes, but she slipped one of her feet in, anyway. It fit perfectly.
โAnd they match, too,โ one of the maids said, pointing to the silver stitching. โAs if they were made for the dress.โ
โWe donโt have time for admiring shoes,โ Mrs. Gibbons suddenly said. โNow listen to these instructions very carefully. The coachman has returned from taking the countess and her girls, and he will take you to Bridgerton House. But he has to be waiting outside when they wish to depart, which means you must leave by midnight and not a second later. Do you understand?โ
Sophie nodded and looked at the clock on the wall. It was a bit after nine, which meant sheโd have more than two hours at the masquerade. โThank you,โ she whispered. โOh, thank you so much.โ
Mrs. Gibbons dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. โYou just have a good time, dearling. Thatโs all the thanks I need.โ
Sophie looked again at the clock. Two hours. Two hours that sheโd have to make last a lifetime.