Despite the late night, Emily was not granted a fruitful sleep.
Anna woke her several hours earlier than she would have liked, to prepare her for any gentleman callers. Emily was hopeful there would be none but, disgustingly, word had seemed to get out about her inheritance.
She was sure a leech or two would make an appearance.
Unfortunately, she was not wrong.
Eight men in total, two of whom were on Kitty's list, called on her that morning. Emily prided herself in being able to talk with almost anyone, but really, some of these men were so incredibly trying.
Lord Chamberlain insisted he had no time for books and that his work kept him most occupied. Although, what his work entailed, he seemed unable to articulate.
Mr Waite seemed so nervous, Emily was not sure he would know what to do with a wife should he somehow snare one.
While the Viscount Hereford, a favourite of her aunt's, hinted at a vast estate which had suffered a poor crop. Apparently an injection of Emily's inheritance would see to the running of his estate for many years to come.
"How utterly vulgar," Aunt Margaret had exclaimed as he left the room, angrily scoring his name from her own list. Emily thought it was the closest her aunt had ever come to cursing.
Once her aunt had calmed down, and the list of suitors depleted, Margaret seemed to rally her spirits again.
"Never mind them dear. The most useless of young men always appear first - like to get their foot in the door before men of consequence have the chance. Pay them no mind."
It was the first piece of advice her aunt had offered that Emily was inclined to take.
Later that afternoon, a note arrived from Kitty. She suggested a walk in the park, to go over that morning's callers. With her aunt insisting "there was not a worthy suitor between the bunch" she agreed to the walk on behalf of them both.
The park was beautiful. Trees lined the path, which followed a river down to the lake. Being amongst greenery was healing Emily's soul again.
The carefully manicured lawns, perfectly placed benches and almost fairy-tale-like gardens were nothing like the wilds of home. Most of the island she had grown up on was surrounded by farmland, swamps or potter's fields. Although there was talk of turning the largest of which into a park not dissimilar to this.
Not that Emily ever expected it to occur - it was currently being used as a mass pauper's grave. They would never disturb the dead like that.
Emily found herself roused from her thoughts at the familiar voices coming from a tent to the side of the path.
The Bridgerton family, which seemed like a large number indeed, were enjoying sandwiches from a blanket.
Emily had sought out Benedict straight away, but he was distracted by a young person on the blanket next to him. They seemed to be arguing over the chocolate strawberries.
Emily looked away, before he realised she was there. A new wave of embarrassment washed over her, at recollection of her revealing her cousin's list.
She knew any speak of such a thing would be deemed gauche and wanted to save her from any shame.
"Ah Violet - I had hoped to see you at my daughter's ball last night," Aunt Margaret said, pausing at the edge of the blankets.
Violet came to the edge, grasping her hands.
"My apologies Margaret, Catherine. A sudden headache prevented me from attending. But I am sure you saw several of my children there."
Emily could feel his eyes on her. She forced herself not to look, focusing on the woman before her. Emily believed the mother was somewhere in her 50s. She had kind eyes and a soft voice. Speaking about the children surrounding her, it was clear she loved them all dearly.
Realising she had been staring intently at the woman, Emily averted her gaze. She glanced towards the side of the blanket she knew Benedict was not. Penelope and Colin were talking softly to one another, so quietly only they themselves could hear.
She looked down at her feet. Then to her left. Then back at Violet. Then at her aunt. Anywhere but him.
A small dog suddenly ran toward the group, stopping beside Emily's feet. Crouching down, she spoke softly to the golden pup, running her hands through its soft coat.
To her horror, when she stood back up, Benedict had come to stand beside her. She still could not bring herself to look at him. To acknowledge he now stood so close.
"Ah Mr Bridgerton, I was surprised that you did not attend to my cousin this morning," Kitty said. "Given you were conspiring to help her escape from my ball last night."
Emily could not stop the blush rising up her neck, the warmth spreading to her cheeks. She was mortified.
"Alas, I had family matters to attend to this morning. But your cousin can be assured that we shall not fail in our next attempt." He stared pointedly at her.
Emily managed a pained smile, looking down at the dog that remained by her side. She had never been more grateful for an animal. She knew that were she to look at the man standing so close to her right now, the heat of embarrassment might actually cause her to faint.
Emily looked up as her aunt began to talk once more, but did not miss the look Violet was now giving her and her son.
"Margaret I do not believe I have the pleasure of meeting your young ward yet."
Emily's aunt apologised, making the formal introductions, adding, "She is the daughter of my late brother. Recently over from the Americas."
"Well Miss Hawthorn, I believe you must come to tea with my family next week. We should love to hear tales of the former colonies."
Emily could only manage a nod and Her own group set back off on their walk.
Emily did not look back.