benedict bridgerton has been looking for a new muse, where better to look than the delicate fingers of the new harpist who he keeps seeing around town?
if he is apollo, then maybe this time he will catch this falling icarus
| benedict bridgerton x...
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Say surrender. Say alabaster. Switchblade.
Honeysuckle. Goldenrod. Say autumn.
Say autumn despite the green
in your eyes. Beauty despite
daylight. Say you'd kill for it. Unbreakable dawn
mounting in your throat.
My thrashing beneath you
like a sparrow stunned
with falling.
ocean vuong, on earth we're briefly gorgeous
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The Howe's may be nowhere near as prolific as other esteemed families in our dearest ton, what with only five children to their name after all and certainly enough time to have had more, but one cannot say that they have not made quite a name for themselves.
Or, I suppose, one of them has.
Cornelius Howe's detestable shaming from society still plagues the family to this day, what with having been caught red-handed by the Queen herself in the middle of the most lavish ball of the season, and one is sure to have heard some semblance of the story at one of our many balls in the three years since. Although said to have been the Nonesuch of his time, his taste has been found to be rather rakish in nature and is certainly the reason his own family turned their backs on him without hearing his apology.
Gentle Reader, you may be wondering why it is This Author has decided to talk of the debauchery of the Howe family. As it is, it has been brought to my attention that this Season the opera has come to town and their principal harpist happens to be a certain Cornelius Howe, a once dear member of our society regressed to nothing more than a demi-monde.
Your devoted Author is rather excited to watch as Mr Howe engages in a head-on battle with the society who deemed him unfit in his youth...
Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, April 1813
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