The Second Born Bridgerton // Benedict Bridgerton

Presentable for the marriage market

Having three sisters had never been easy, especially when they were as loud and as bothersome as my own. On any given day, I would ignore Prudence and Phillipa as much as I could. Penelope had never been too appalling to me, but since she had become friends with Eloise Bridgerton, I found that she too had become rather irritating. It was not that I did not still enjoy the company of my dear sister Pen, rather that I did not enjoy the company of Eloise, and the two of them seemed to be part and parcel nowadays. It was not even that I did not enjoy the company of Eloise, I had seen much of her when we were younger, but I found any time that I engaged with her in a conversation that we were not well suited as friends whatsoever.

All four of us were to debut this season, and I knew my sisters were much more nervous about the matter than I was. After all, if I did not find a husband then that was not something that ever bothered me so much. And even if my mother would not admit it, I knew that with Daphne Bridgerton presented on the same day as ourselves, none of the attention would be on us anyway. And we had even less of a chance of that now that Miss Marina Thompson, some distant cousin of my fathers, would accompany us too. I had often fancied myself as the prettiest of the featherington sisters but I did not compare to Marina. She was tall and slender, with beautiful skin and immaculate hair. She must not wear the horror of dresses that our mother makes us wear, and I am jealous of that. I find myself often jealous of much of the ton, not for anything other than their superior fashion sense.

We rush from the household in our dresses, and my mother is quick to encourage us into the carriage. Penelope stops to wave at Eloise, but mother forces her in before Eloise notices. Although, with Pen, it could be either Eloise or Colin she was waving at. I do not think she is aware that I am aware of how enamored she is with the third Bridgerton brother. "Mama! I was only trying to wave to the Bridgertons." Penelope protests, but my mother, as always, ignores her.

My mother was, after all, an incredibly ignorant woman. Anyone who had ever met her would say the exact same, they would tell you that she was brash and abrasive and that her fashion sense was rather garish. I would agree, of course, since I was sat in one of the dresses she had hand picked for me. Penelope was always dressed in yellow, a bright canary yellow that made her stand out as though she was a large bird, Philipa was seen exclusively in pink and Prudence only ever in green. My signature shade was a dark purple. I envied the bridgerton girls, who wore the finest white and blue dresses, the very picture of elegance and grace every time they stepped from their home. And yet, here I was, a featherington, in my purple gown, feeling rather like I stand out in all the wrong ways.

"Now, girls. You must remember what I have taught you. When the queen calls upon you, you shall walk and you shall curtsy. You shall smile and you shall do nothing more than that. You do not address her and you most certainly do not engage her eyes. That will be your biggest mistake." Her eyes are judgemental as she scans each one of us, hardly glancing at Miss Thompson. "It is important that each of you make a good first impression on the queen, or else the ball tonight and the entire wedding season will be a complete disaster."

"That does seem rather dramatic, mother." I do not meet her gaze, I do not wish to, instead I focus my gaze outside the window and onto the nature that blurs past us as we ride through the country. There is nothing I wish for more that to have my paints at this very moment, but I could not, and so I am careful to memorise every detail of what I see so that I may paint it when I am finally granted the relief of returning home. Painting was one of the few things I enjoyed. "The approval of the queen is certainly not the be all and end all of our situation. Did the Viscountess Hartelpool not prove that only last season?"

"And since when did you become an expert on this towns marriage market, young lady? You know nothing and you are to listen to me if you are to find a suitable husband." My mother refrains from chastising me, but probably only because we arrive at the palace at that very moment.

I step out, and I look at it. It is rather beautiful, the architecture is like nothing I have ever seen before, the windows are decorated and colourful and the hustle and bustle of other debutants arriving only makes it even more exciting to look at. Our mother guides us through the halls, wishing to act as though she knows where we are going, so that she can fool everyone into thinking that she is highly thought of by the queen. But only a fool would believe that attempt.

I see few people I recognise. Lady Bridgerton seems to be fussing a little over Daphne, perfecting her slicked back hair and spreading the wisps of the feather so that she looks absolutely exquisite, as she always seems to. I catch a glimpse of my own dress in the reflection of a rather large silver plate as I walk past and the very sight of myself makes me grimace and shudder. My mother once again shows his much more nervous she is than us, as we reach the door to enter for our turn. "Do try and remember what I have told the four of you. This impression matters for more than you could ever know. That includes you, Peaches."

I do refrain from arguing any further with her, I am sure that if I say another word then her head might quite possibly explode from the stress, so I stay quiet, taking a deep breath in as our names are called and we enter the palace ballroom. I keep my composure, even if I can tell that the three girls on my left do not. Penelope is looking around the room as though she has never seen four walls and a roof before, Philipa is grinning as though she is a mad woman and prudence appears like she is struggling to walk. I am careful to keep my posture, curtsying to the queen as she sneers at what my mother has presented her with.

"Dear Mrs Featherington." I hold my breath as the queen looks along the line of my sisters, before she meets my eye. My mother told me specifically not to meet her eye, but since she does not have me assassinated on the spot, I assume that it is okay. "You present four daughters and only a single one of them may be presentable for the marriage market." With that comment, she waves her hand, and we must be quick to remove ourselves from her presence. And that is when Prudence collapses onto the floor in front of her majesty herself.