Her cousin Catherine had compiled a list. A list! Ten most eligible men of the ton. Pros and cons, titles, property and estimated incomes - all leading to her own ranking system.
Catherine - or Kitty as she preferred - was not a woman to be trifled with.
She was practical and sensible and Emily fell in love with her in an instant - and the fact she was but a short walk from her home was an admirable quality indeed.
Hardly a year older than her, Kitty had already been married two years, having succeeded in gaining five proposals her first season out.
She eventually wed the Earl of Portland, the current William the 6th. They were well suited, as he joined in on the conversation, offering what he called "the male perspective" to the list - namely who drank too much and who was at risk of gambling away their family fortune.
Thanks to him, they had whittled the list down to seven, although Kitten now seemed keen to add more men to the list to "give themselves a better chance".
"Do not fret, my love," William said, leaning down to kiss his wife's head. "Emily is a fine looking young woman. Her success on the marriage mart will be second only to your own."
Kitty beamed. Emily had never felt more like a prized calf at market.
She scanned the final list that had been thrust into her hands.
"Oh look, there she is!" Kitty exclaimed, looking out over the square. Aunt Margaret rushed to her side, twitching at the drapes.
"That dreadful Whistledown - did you see what she wrote about our Emily?"
Emily had to admit she was incredibly curious to see the famed Whistledown, and soon found herself next to the two women at the window.
"Which one?"
"Her, in the blue - the newest of the Mrs Bridgerton's."
"But…she looks so young?" Emily was confused. She had been expecting an elderly woman. Some lost mama with nothing better to do than to gossip about the youth surrounding her.
Kitty turned to her, nodding. "Penelope Bridgerton. One of the marriages of the season. She married the third son, Colin, just last year."
Emily scanned her list again. "Bridgerton? There is a Bridgerton on this list?" She looked up, surprised her family would want her to marry into one such as that.
Aunt Margaret sniffed. "He did not know who she was, before the marriage." Kitty leaned into her ear, whispering, "Or so the story goes."
Emily could not help but return her smile, grateful to have a cousin such as she. As an only child, Emily always longed for a sister. Her only sorrow was that Kitty was recently with child. Their upcoming ball would be one of the last of the season, expected to go into confinement once she began to show.
Emily believed she would not feel half as alone with Kitty at her side.
The next few days rushed by and soon, the house across the square was sparkling. Kitty and William had certainly spared no expense in their upcoming festivities.
Taking the arm of one of the footmen, Emily, accompanied by James and Margaret, walked the short distance to their daughter's home. Her aunt had almost insisted they still arrive in the carriage. But given the line was already wrapped around the square, Margaret eventually agreed to the sensible judgement of her husband.
Walking into the grand foyer, she was clasped in a warm embrace from her cousin. "Several of my men have already arrived. But you must let me introduce you in the right order, to give yourself the best chance."
Emily could only smile, having absolutely zero intention of being introduced to any young men this evening. She had already scouted out the location of William's library and very much planned to spend most of the evening in it.
She hid behind her aunt and uncle as they entered the ballroom, already looking for corners in which to hide. If her cousin's were to be the ones to introduce her tonight, she estimated she would have at least a full half hour before they themselves were free to remove from the entrance. Plenty of time to devise an exit plan.
Emily took a lemonade from the table, and moved towards the back of the room. But her attention was diverted when she spotted a lone figure standing to one side, watching the gathering before her.
Lady Whistledown herself.
Emily barely considered her actions before she found herself in front of the scribe, blurting out "it is you".
Lady Whistledown, or she supposed Mrs Bridgerton, offered a bemused smile and the sudden accostment.
"My apologies, you are Lady Whistledown?" Emily asked, suddenly feeling self conscious. Mrs Bridgerton smiled at her.
"Penelope Bridgerton to most."
"My family filled me in on your story. I am sure you have had a most eventful year." Emily knew she was babbling, but it was so rare to find a woman within their ranks of society who had managed to make something of themselves - even if she had then decided to marry.
"I must say, I think that is the first time anyone has ever written something like that about myself."
"Something like what," a voice behind her said. The man, with his chestnut hair and deep brown eyes, smiled and held out a lemonade to Mrs Bridgerton. But the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
Emily paused, searching for the right words. "Of consequence", she settled on.
She was surprised to see the tension leave the man's body, adopting an easy going stance in an instance. She supposed that when your wife was the one behind spilling everyone's secrets, you would get a bit protective.
"I am Emily Hawthorn", she said, extending her hand to Mrs Bridgerton. She seemed surprised but took it nonetheless.
"Penelope Bridgerton. And this is my husband, Colin."
Emily smiled, feeling like she was out of place.
"It is an odd thing, to be noticed like that," she began. "Back home, there would always be lavish balls. But I never believed anyone ever watched me before."
"You feel…unnoticed?" The disbelief was evident in Penelope's voice. Emily shuffled uncomfortably.
She knew, arguably, she was attractive. Plenty of young suitors had told her so. But as soon as she mentioned any ambition, they looked at her as if she had grown three heads.
"I suppose…it is not unnoticed. Back home," she paused, searching for the right words. "I have often been called odd."
There was a prolonged silence. But Emily did not feel like offering any further thoughts, suddenly noticing how Penelope was watching her. Like a specimen. Or tomorrow's gossip story.
"I beg your apologies, I have interrupted you," Emily told the couple, turning and leaving before they could offer any response.
Exiting through the side doors, she took in the balmy night air, as she sought refuge away from the crowds.
It wasn't quite a library, but Emily found a bench next to a small flowerbed. Sitting down, she replayed the conversation in her head, feeling like a fool. She had promised her aunt she would not stir up any more mayhem for Whistledown. And in turn, felt more guilty at the hurt and embarrassment it may bring Kitty.
Glancing around, she noticed a small wooden gate set back into the wall.
"I would advise against it," a voice behind her said suddenly.
Jumping, Emily placed her hand to her chest, trying to slow her heartbeat. A tall man with chestnut hair and brown eyes stood to her back, smiling, slightly crookedly, at her.
Emily looked around, realising they stood back from most people. In fact, from this angle, they would have been almost impossible to see.
A feeling she had never felt before began to rise in her chest. Panic. She had heard sordid tales of men abusing women before, of course. But part of her had always hoped that they were like fairy tales her mother used to read - stories to scare young women into behaving.
But Emily had never doubted the cruelty of man.
"And what, sir, might you be advising against?" She stood, thinking that she would have the best chance of running should she already be on her feet.
"Escaping out the back gate, of course." He smiled. Emily could not detect a hint of malice, but she could not let her guard down. "I understand your home is but a meer hundred metres away, but it is still inadvisable for a young woman to make the journey alone."
"Sir, you have me at a disadvantage," she told him, the hairs on the back of her neck beginning to stand. "You appear to know who I am, yet I have not had the pleasure of an introduction."
He smiled again. "My apologies. I am Benedict Bridgerton."
"Oh", Emily said softly. "You are number three." The words had slipped from her lips before she had a chance to stop them. A hot flash of shame rose in her chest. Did she actually just say that?
A small look of frustration appeared on Benedict's face. "Number two, actually." Now it was Emily's turn to look confused. Had her cousin showed her suitors the list? She did not think that Kitty would be so forward.
"I do not understand?"
"I am the second Bridgerton brother. Also known as Benedict."
"Oh I meant number three on the list." Stupid. Again. How had she managed to let slip twice now.
Benedict raised an eyebrow at her. "The list?"
Emily cleared her throat, feeling the colour rising to her cheeks. She had never been more grateful for darkness. Were a hole to open beneath her now, it would not be a moment too soon.
"My cousin. Lady Catherine. She…there was a list of eligible men. She wanted me to meet them." Emily spoke so quietly she was not sure Benedict had even heard her. There was a long silence which she dared not break. It was mortification beyond anything she had ever known.
"And I only made it to number three?" he asked suddenly full of mock outrage. Emily laughed, a small amount of relief flooding through her. "I demand satisfaction - who must I duel to regain my rightful place?"
Emily smiled, suddenly realising she had in fact, seen if not met, Mr Bridgerton before. "Surely sir, you can not be so eager to engage the attention of a boor from the colonies, such as myself." He returned the smile.
"Alas, maybe it is for the best then." He offered her his arm, which Emily took, and they headed back towards the house.
They had hardly stepped from their hiding place, when Kitty tracked them down.
"Emily! There you are. And…Mr Bridgerton. I see you have met my cousin."
Emily relinquished the arm of Benedict, taking her place next to her cousin.
"Mr Bridgerton was just saving me from a most terrible fate," she explained to Kitty. "Jumping over the garden wall." Kitty looked mildly horrified, while Benedict stifled a laugh.
"I still think I could have made it," Emily added, for good measure.
"I do not doubt it for a second," he responded. Offering a nod, he left the two women and walked toward a group of men standing off to the side.
Kitty, now in a non-stop stream of questions which she seemed to require no response to, dragged her back towards the ballroom, determined she would not miss her opportunity to show off her prize.
Emily glanced back towards where Benedict was standing, to find he was already watching her, head tilted to one side.
Curiouser, and curiouser.