The ball was painstakingly boring. It was not Lady Danbury's fault. Heavens no. The woman had managed to throw another grand start of the season ball yet again. This year's theme was green and blue, for some whatever reason, as Lady Danbury had decided to take on a new choice of colour, and theme. Or she too, had gotten bored of the same old expectations from the ton and had decided to see what they would do with such a . . . unique colour palette, to say the least.

The dance floor was crowded in shades of green, at least mainly. It seemed the a majority of the ton had decided to lay off from wearing the Bridgerton blue. The ballroom was designed to look like a garden. Plants crawled up the pillars as an extra touch, making everything look more like an overgrown garden the Greek gods would enjoy watching over.

Several men - perfectly eligible ones (for someone else, most definitely) - had already approached Eloise for a dance. She'd rejected some, Benedict and Collin saved her from others. Speaking of those too, where were they? An average looking gentleman about Anthony's age was rapidly approaching her and she had no brother to run off to. A friend might've been a good escape route, but she was in a feud with Penelope and every other lady in this room wanted gossip to spread instead of a close comrade. Then again, Penelope hadn't turned out to be that different from the rest, had she?

"Miss Bridgerton," the man called, harshly tugging Eloise out of her depressive thoughts of panic. He bowed his head just a little and held out a gloved hand for her. "May I have a dance?"

Eloise - brilliant as she was - felt her mind crumble to dust. "Uh, well, I-"

Simon's arm came wrapping around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side. "There you are sister," he said with a bright smile down at her. He winked and Eloise's shoulders slumped. Oh thank god, Daphne had made the right choice with this one. Simon looked to the man standing in front of them, "If you don't mind, I have dire need to steal my sister for a dance. Daphne's been going on about how well she's improved and I have to see for myself."

What a blatant lie. Both Daphne and Simon knew Eloise couldn't tell her right foot from her left on a dance floor. Benedict and Collin had gotten through the dances with her at the cost of their toes. Eloise felt sorry for Simon's as he led her to the dance floor.

"Thank you," she told her brother-in-law as the music started.

"Thank me by informing me of Daphne's favourite flowers," Simon replied. He must've gotten wind of the dangers Eloise possessed to his toes, for he managed to step out of her way before pain could be rained down upon him. "She refuses to tell me and I have yet to figure such a simple thing out. How well does she like roses?"

Eloise shook head with a smile. "Get her a mix of anything purple and blue, and I assure you she'll forget about whatever arguement you caused."

"You have saved me about a season's worth of flower hunting. And a month of being forced to sleep in a different bed."

She knew he was only exaggerating, but Daphne's pettiness was a rather unpredictable thing. Eloise was going to start taking guesses on what exactly Simon had done this time, when a familiar figure caught her eye from behind him.

Her breathing stopped.

What was that unladylike word she'd accidentally said in front of her mother? Oh yes: fuck.

Somehow, Simon stayed oblivious to his sister-in-law's ghostly expression. On the chance he did notice, he'd ignored it, and decided Eloise was too strange for him to understand.

She suspected Daphne would be dropping by to question her tomorrow. That was, if Eloise managed to live till then. Because the moment the dance had ended and she'd thanked Simon, she dashed off to confront the one boy - man? - who had no possible way of being here.

She found him exiting into the gardens. The crowd was still behind her, no one could suspect anything, so Eloise called for him.

"Theo."

Eloise still struggled to believe it when he turned.

The suit was expertly tailored. Fit him perfectly. And the details were immaculately done. The design of golden leaves on the waistcoat shone against it's light blue shade. Not a speck of dirt ruined the white shirt underneath. Meanwhile, over everything he'd thrown on a darker blue jacket with golden buttons and followed it with matching pants and black shoes. The yellow tie around his neck was maddeningly crooked. His brown hair remained tousled, like he'd run his hands through it a hundred it times. It fell upon brown-black eyes that were more questioning than confused.

Despite the changes, she saw him as he was when she'd met him: a the simple apprentice, who had some opinions to share, and the writing skills to do so.

"El - Miss Bridgerton." His voice had even changed. It had gone from soft and quiet to strong and commanding. He offered her an unchanged smile. "How may I be of service to you?"

There was no bitterness in his words, yet Eloise was containing the want to flinch.

She stammered. An uncommon thing. "I- how are you - when - I have so many questions."

Theo took a step closer. For some reason, she wanted him to take another, to pretend they were in his printing shop and every action was a scandal in the making.

"Well" - he waved a hand at her, revealing a ring with a family crest on his finger - "you have my utmost attention." Like always. The words latched on in her head. She hated it.

"How about you start with how you got here?" She gestured at the ball around them and then at his tall, well dressed frame. Was he always this tall or was she feeling short? Or was it the new clothes and aura of importance clinging to him? All were viable options.

Theo glanced away in the way he did when thinking. "Um, so this is a rather big scandal, or it could be, should it come out." He clicked his tongue and held his hands behind his back as he rocked back on his heels. "So, about a month or so ago" - he made his 'I am probably right about this' face as he nodded to himself - "I discovered that I am the illegitimate son of some duke I've never known about, though perhaps you do. Either way, he died and his wife had not given him any sons, so, for an unexplainable reason, considering he ought to have other family, he put my name on the estate and will. Thus placing me here. In the jaws of the society you evidently have a distaste for."

Oh, she'd come on that strongly about the ton.

Now that he was done, Theo looked at her with an adorably innocent face. Like being magically swept up from a printing shop and into a duke's shoes was an everyday occurrence.

Eloise chuckled, sweeping a lock of hair away from her eyes. What in the world was she to do with this situation? Especially considering the way she'd ended things with him the previous season. His words would still haunt her in the darkness of the night. A guilty echo that rested on an even more guilty conscious.

Theo saved them both from the awkwardness. "I can see why you didn't enjoy balls." His eyes drifted across the ongoing ball behind her. Right, that existed, she'd forgotten about it the moment this conversation had begun. He met her eyes, something she couldn't decipher playing in them. "Everyone here is positively boring, dare I say."

Now Eloise laughed. Theo joined. And for a fleeting second, everything felt forgotten.

He held out an open palm for her, a radiant smile on his face, she'd missed that dimple in his cheek. "Care for a dance, Miss Bridgerton?" he half teased, his brow shooting up, as if silently challenging her with the words in between.

"Why yes, Mister -"

She cut off. He'd have a new last name now, considering the title he inherited. He gave her an understanding smile.

"Hawthorne."

Eloise took his hand with the first true smile she'd given anyone tonight. "I would adore a dance with you, Mister Hawthorne." Truer words had never left her lips.

He led her to the floor, and every head snapped in their direction. The entire ballroom was collectively restraining their jaws from dropping to the polished floor. For Eloise Bridgerton - rumoured to be Queen Charlotte's favoured emerald - was dancing with a man that was not her brother. A new, mysterious, devilishly handsome young man, who was looking at her through eyes of pain and longing.

The music started, the dance begun, and the two danced like they had been dancing together for years on end.

Lady Whistledown was going to have some talk to report, because Eloise didn't miss a single step, despite arguably being the worst dancer in that room, for she was deeply enchanted by the eyes of the new mystery in ton.

Eyes that never once left hers.