The Prince's Private Symphony

3. Art of the Swoon

Dearest gentle reader, it is often said that those who marry in haste must repent at leisure, a sentiment that is clearly shared by Miss Daphne Bridgerton, who has apparently rejected not one, not two, but three proposals already this week.

Some believe she is showing admirable forethought in her deliberations, but I would venture a different conjecture, that she, like this author, is still waiting on the only suitor of note.

"Daphne, have you thought about with whom you would like to dance at tonight's ball?" Mama asked.

"I have some ideas. Lord Weaver is a fine dancer," she says, pushing Benedict's feet off the chair and sitting next to him.

"Lord Hardy was asking about you at White's last night," Anthony told her. Didn't think that he wanted her married.

"Lord Hardy? What about the duke?"

"The duke has not proposed, Mama. I am still considering my best course," Daphne defends herself.

"Wise girl," Anthony compliments.

"And Lord Hardy is a fine option. Although, he is rather boastful," she detests.

"My dear, why ever do you complicate matters so? You must simply marry the man who feels like your dearest friend," she tells her like it's the easiest thing in the world.

"Is that it, Mama? Well, how very simple indeed!"

"Yes, quite," mama laughs.

"Well, Eloise and I should be going," I tell them, getting up.

"And where is it you are going sisters?" Benedict asks.

"Ah, to Eleanor's violin practice, she goes to practice. I go to enjoy music and uninterrupted reading time," Eloise smiles. "Just as I do when she is baking or fencing, really whatever she's doing gives me the chance to read in silence."

"Or talk about her books," I say.

"That too," she laughs.

We both link arms as we head to my practice. I grab my violin from my room and we ride off downtown. "Mister Bonaparte," I nod to my playing partner.

"Miss Bridgerton," he nods back. "Miss Bridgerton," he nods to my sister. "Shall we begin? I wish to have some time to take you and your sister to lunch if I may. Don't worry, my younger brother will be there."

"I think we should very much like that Mister Bonaparte," I thank him and look to my sister.

"Oh, I don't care, thank you Alex, I am also quite enjoying the last book you gave me," she tells him, making me laugh.

"It is nice to exchange pleasantries, sister," I tell her with an eye roll and a teasing smile.

"Oh, please, pleasantries? You've stolen from half the ton and the other half you could reveal several scandals about, let alone being about to fight them before they even figure out which side of the blade is the one to point at the other person," she complains. "Now, I must get back to this book before I go insane." She walks to her seat as Alex and I set our violins on the stools.

"She's already insane if you ask me," Alex mutters.

"Alexzander!"

"What? It's true and you know it. Nevertheless, I love her like she's my own sister," he says.

"Ah yes, we should be known as the triplets shouldn't we, not the twins," I tease.

"Well, maybe not—"

"Ah, yes you do have that incredibly large fortune that you shall come into in Italy should your uncle and cousins die an untimely and unfortunate death," I laugh.