The Lady Wants A Fool (Bridgerton)

chapter seventeen

It was April 24, 1839. It was the day that Lyanna Sandringham, the daughter of  Duke Charles Sandringham was to make her debut. Lyanna noted that she felt sick at the prospect, but it was a necessity. Her father would no longer allow her to remain in the shadows, and he refused to let her be known as a spinster.

Mable had knocked on her door and opened it at seven to wake her. It didn't matter, she had been awake for an hour already, but she feigned dreariness so as to not worry Mable. After a little over a week together she had learned that even though Mable was just three years her elder she was quite the handwringer. Mable was constantly fussing over her, and though her father had given up years ago on ever being able to make her do anything that she didn't want to. Mable was not so inclined.

She didn't have the heart to be stern with her as Mable had such a soft pleasing voice, and she was witty and kind. It didn't feel right to treat her with anything but kindness.

And even though Mable fussed over the way she dressed, and how she refused to wear her hair in any other fashion except tied behind her head with a ribbon. She didn't get angry, or frustrated as her father once had, she let it go until the moment arose to point it out again. She found that more annoying than being ignored, which was another tactic her father had once tried.

So she had taken to wearing a light dress at home, no corset, dear God if she was at home she wanted to relax not suffer. That seemed to placate Mable.

But today when Mable found her in bed with only one of her linen shirts on instead of the chemise they had agreed upon, she didn't so much as mutter a word admonishment. She would have to bathe, then be rubbed down with perfume for an hour, before finally being stuffed into a new frock she had bought with the Viscountess on one of their excursions to the modiste.

And she'd be lying if she said she wasn't nervous or dreading the whole ordeal. It was a masquerade and she had never attended one. The Viscountess had went with her to pick out a mask, which Lyanna desperately wanted just a solid black one, the Viscountess refused stating that men only wore those. The Viscountess then steered her over to more feminine designs and Lyanna had settled on a small green velvet one. It had a small peacock feather and crystal on the side, and Lyanna had to admit she did find it pretty.

Then the Viscountess took her to the modiste where she was fitted for a green silk dress to match. Then the Viscountess had taken her to another shop where she purchased a pair of white gloves, which the Viscountess swore would make her the most beautiful woman there. It had been an overwhelming week. But she had come to like the Viscountess. Kate Bridgerton was incessantly proper, and though she had a wicked hint about her.

She was nothing but modest and kind to Lyanna. She had apologized to Lyanna for the party being a masquerade, but it couldn't be helped it was tradition. So Kate had proclaimed that even if know one could completely see Lyanna's face, they'd see it in every other way possible. Lyanna had reminded the Viscountess that she had already decided to set her cap for Elijah Berbrooke, which made the woman scrunch her face before saying oh of course. Lyanna had a sneaky suspicion that Lady Bridgerton was purposefully keeping her out of sight of any Berbrooke or their aquatintences.

She hadn't really minded though, she felt it was best to begin her charade of a courtship on first sight at the party. There was no way the gossips wouldn't call that a miracle. She'd pretend to see him and then maybe she'd feign a swoon. Lyanna laughed a little and Mable gave her a sideways look through the mirror as she combed through Lyanna's wet hair. Mable didn't say anything but she did grab her shoulders and squeezed ever so gently, then continued combing.

She didn't know why, but it made her chest tight. Why did Mable look like she pitied her?
"Mable, is there something you wish to say?" She heard herself ask as she looked at Mable through the mirror.
"My Lady I wish to say something, it may be to forward of me, but I feel I must." Lyanna took a deep breath as she stared at Mable, she appeared quite disturbed. She was chewing nervously on the corner of her mouth. Lyanna got a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Go on then." She said as she narrowed her eyes at Mable. Mable wasn't looking at her but when she finally turned her eyes back to Lyanna there was a fierce determination in them.

"My Lady you have told me a few details of your plans for the future, and while I promised I would always do as you bid, I cannot abide by it anymore." Lyanna sat frozen as Mable went on.

"You may not want to admit it, but you're in love with that Bridgerton fellow." Lyanna opened her mouth to deny it but nothing came out but a raspy croak.

"And he's completely smitten with you, oh how could he not be, you're intelligent and beautiful. Had I known when you first asked me for information on the tons worst bachelor's what you intended, then I-I would have never agreed. I believe in true love and what you have for Mr. Bridgerton is just that."

She realized she had started to cry, the tears had came like silent raindrops and they wouldn't seem to stop. Mable was right, she denied it because she had to, but it was true. She believed in true love, she had known what it looked like. And she knew it was what she would have with Miles if she just gave in. And she wanted to give in, this whole week she had been almost willing to give in just to ease her mind.

But she had promised herself that she would do anything to make sure her family name continued on. Anything to make sure they held the duchy for another hundred years. She had asked the what ifs, Miles was laid back and carefree, he had never had any experience in running a dukedom so she was sure he would let her do it without interference. But when it came to her name she knew he wouldn't agree. He was a Bridgerton and he was always very proud of that fact.

His family was everything to him as Lyanna's was to her, he would not forsake the name passed down to him by his father. The Bridgertons were just as prestigious as the Sandringhams. And all of this meant that no matter how much she loved him or how much he loved her, she could never marry him. She had to marry someone she could convince to take her last name, it was highly unconventional but it had happened at least once. She had dug around while at school and at least found that little shred of information.

Which meant it could be done, and if anyone could do it, it was she. She finally let out a long sigh. It shook her whole body, but it felt good and calming. She wiped the tears that had ran silently down her face as she realized she had no more left to cry.

"Thank you Mable," she said as she turned in her chair to face her,
"But you could never understand and I wouldn't ask you to, I appreciate the friendship you've offered me since my arrival. I understand if you no longer feel right in serving me." Mable paled. Lyanna was using the tone she had learned from her father, the disembodied voice of a superior acknowledging someone who's disappointed them.

"If you can stay for the rest of the day I'll be sure to have my father write a letter of recommendation for you." She turned back and stared out the corner of her eye at Mable. Mable just bit her lip and gave her another pitying look.

"Of course My Lady as you wish." Mable ran the comb through her hair once more but now there was tension in the air. She swallowed convulsively and then straightened, she had made her decision she just had to see it through. Little did she know as her father and her disembarked for Bridgerton House that evening that all the years of her planning and plotting would be wasted. She had no way of knowing, no way of preparing, for the force of nature that was Miles Bridgerton.