Had we met sooner | A.B · Y/n story by @julesaa

The Featherington ballroom blazed with candlelight, a thousand flames reflecting off gilded mirrors and the jewels of London's finest families. The heat was oppressive, thick with perfume and the murmur of a hundred conversations.

Daphne Bridgerton

appearing at his elbow You look as though you're attending a funeral, not a ball.

Anthony Bridgerton

dryly They feel remarkably similar.

Daphne Bridgerton

tilting her head Have you spoken to Miss Cowper tonight?

Anthony Bridgerton

Enough.

Daphne's lips pressed together, but before she could reply, a ripple passed through the crowd near the ballroom entrance. Heads turned. Whispers rose like a wave.

Agatha Danbury

her voice carrying Apologies for our lateness. My guest has been dreadfully unwell, but she is recovered now—and ready to be introduced.

The young woman was pale in the way of porcelain, not illness. Dark hair swept up in a simple but elegant style, a single strand curling against her neck. Her gown was a deep emerald, unfashionably modest in cut, yet somehow all the more striking for it.

Penelope Bridgerton

murmuring from somewhere nearby Oh my.