As there were no balls the night before, Aunt Margaret had decided that she, Emily and Kitty would take a trip to the Assembly Rooms.
"There will be plenty of other young women there to converse with," Aunt Margaret had told her. "It would do you well to set other young people."
Emily could not help but agree. She had missed her social circle back in New York. Rarely had she had so much time to be alone. The young women she knew and loved and missed always had outings together - walks and visits to tea shops. Emily desperately missed them.
The rooms were somehow both vast and warren like. While the entrance hall was grand, a sparkling chandelier hanging above them, corridors lead to various rooms around the building. A great marble staircase twisted in front of them. Emily did not know where to look, as her aunt signed all three of their names in the guest book.
She led them to a room on the left and Emily was taken aback by it. While it was not a wide room, it was incredibly long. Windows lined the left side of the wall, sunlight streaming in. A wall of mirrors stood on the right, reflecting the light making the room seem impossibly bright. It could take ten minutes easily to walk from one length of the room to another during a busy ball.
But today, during the day, there were only around 40 people in the room, making it feel light and spacious. Kitty looped her arm through mine and led me towards a group holding court near the centre of the room.
"Lady Amelia!" She cooed, leaning in to hug one of the women. "Darling it's been too long. This is my cousin Emily." Emily nodded to them, as they eyed her, somewhat warily.
"Kitty," Amelia said, slightly less warmly. "We hardly see you these days - that husband of yours seems to keep you locked away." Kitty just smiled.
"Oh he is delightful."
Emily honestly could not tell if the two women were friends. The words they were using did not seem to have much consequence. But their tones…
"Oh my mama appears to require me for a moment," Kitty said, making her excuses. "Look after Emily for me please?" And with that, she left my side.
She felt defenseless as they all appeared to turn towards her.
"We heard that you were invited to Lady Danbury's little gathering yesterday?" Amelia asked.
"Yes," she responded. "It was incredibly eye opening. I think it should be a very good cause to support."
A few of the women laughed, swapping looks. I felt myself grow warm.
"I believe Mrs Moore makes a compelling argument as to why we should be helping other young women from unfortunate backgrounds."
"Unfortunate backgrounds?" Miss Harrington repeated. "Do be careful it's Hawthorn - if one gets too near the rats, they are liable to catch fleas." The group laughed again, unkindly.
"I could not agree more," Lady Amelia chimed in. "Why lower yourself to such a degree, when there are so many other suitable charities deserving of our support? Would you not agree, Mr Bridgerton?"
Emily swung around to find Benedict standing close to the group, listening to the conversation. Emily felt all words leave her at the sudden, unexpected appearance of him.
He stepped forward into the circle, ladies clearly ready to hang on his every word.
"For me to pass judgment, I should need to know of what you are discussing?" Emily was somewhat disappointed that he had yet to look at her. He seemed to be avoiding her eyes.
"Well, of Lady Dabury's latest scheme of course," Miss Harrington offered. She lowered her voice, as though she were speaking of something unmentionable in polite company. "She is to support a campaign to teach the poor to read and write." Benedict stood in silence.
"And…?" He offered eventually, looking expectantly at Miss Harrington.
"And?"
"Surely there must be more to this scandal than that?" He inquired. "Does she plan to force them to workhouses? Or maybe ship them off to a colony if they remain unproficient?"
The ladies laughed as though he had told the best joke in the world.
"Oh Mr Bridgerton, you are too much," one of them said, edging closer to him.
"Too much what?" He asked, playfully and they all shrieked again. Emily could feel a look approaching disgust spread across her face as she furrowed her brow and turned to look at Benedict. He was starting to sound much more like the man her aunt had warned her about.
"But do you not agree, Mr Bridgerton?" Lady Amelia pressed. "It is hardly becoming of a reputable young woman to associate with such…people." Benedict paused, considering the question.
"Surely using one's influence to help better the lives of the less fortunate is always a worthwhile cause, is it not?" He seemed serious suddenly. Emily found herself tilting her head to the side to observe him. Gone was the playful disposition of mere moments before. The group stood silent.
It was several long moments before Benedict finally turned to look at Emily. She felt her stomach turn under his gaze.
"Miss Hawthorn, you look like you could use a refreshment. Shall we?" He said, offering his arm and Emily took it willingly.
As they walked away from the group, Emily felt a mix of relief and injustice simmering in her chest. How could people be so unfeeling, she wondered, so quick to look down upon those they'd never even met? Her thoughts were in a whirl when she realized Benedict had been watching her closely, a knowing look in his eyes.
"I must thank you for your timely intervention, Mr. Bridgerton," she managed, though her heart still beat fast from the encounter. "I confess, I'm not sure how much more of their taunts I could have taken."
He chuckled softly, his gaze flickering over her face. "You seemed perfectly in command to me, Miss Hawthorn," he said, his tone warm. Emily glanced back at the group, who were now pointedly watching the two of them with a mix of envy and curiosity. She narrowed her eyes at them, heat rushing to her cheeks.
"Do keep in mind, Miss Hawthorn," he murmured in a voice meant only for her, "murder remains a capital offense in this country." The comment caught her off guard, and a startled laugh escaped her. The sound felt like it echoed between them, warm and alive.
"You read me far too easily, Mr. Bridgerton," she replied, her voice lowered. "I'm liable to avoid thinking in your company altogether, for fear of being found out."
Benedict slowed their pace, a subtle but deliberate move, and leaned down just enough that his words brushed her ear. "Those thoughts must be truly wicked if you're so intent on hiding them from me."
Emily froze, the world around them falling away as his words sank in. Her lips parted in a mix of surprise and something else—an ache that went deeper than she had expected. Benedict's eyes held a spark of something almost daring as he took in her expression.
"Unless," he added, his voice a warm murmur, "you might consider sharing them?"
She felt the blush rise from her chest, spreading up her neck and across her cheeks, betraying her more plainly than any words could. Closing her mouth quickly, she turned away, grasping for her composure.
"It appears my aunt was right about you," she muttered, half to herself.
He leaned in, his brows lifting with mock innocence. "I'm sorry—I didn't quite catch that?"
She swallowed, steeling herself as she turned to face him. "I said," she replied, her gaze steady, "my aunt appears to have been right about you."
Benedict tilted his head, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "And what judgment did your aunt pass on me?"
Emily held his gaze, unflinching. "That you are a man who could ruin a respectable young woman."
For a fleeting moment, something close to surprise crossed his face, followed by an amused smile that sent a shiver through her. "Ah, Miss Hawthorn," he replied dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest, "you wound me."
Emily watched him, her own expression unyielding. She could feel the charge in the air between them, a spark that neither seemed willing to break.
"I—"
"Emily!" Kitty's voice cut through the moment, her cousin arriving beside her and breaking the spell. "Mama said you must come and meet Lord Fife!" Kitty was already steering her away.
Emily turned once more to Benedict, the anticipation in his eyes tempered with disappointment. He gave a graceful bow. "If you must, Miss Hawthorn," he said, his tone as easy as ever.
Emily managed a quick smile, her mind whirling, as Kitty whisked her away. Her pulse was still racing, her thoughts a tangled mix of exhilaration and fear. It was as if he'd lifted her to the edge of something thrilling and left her there, hovering between a fall and a flight. And in that moment, she was no longer certain if she wished to resist the plunge.