The Prince's Private Symphony

8. After the Rain

The fastest courtship upon record occurred during the markedly wet season of 1804, when Miss Mary Leopold secured a betrothal over a plate of sugared almonds and licorice in just four and a half minutes.

Of course, Miss Leopold and her new husband would leave London mere hours after their wedding.

Reason: unknown.

Of all that I have imparted to you, dear reader, there is but one bit of wisdom you must heed most. One can never know the truth of a marriage hiding behind closed doors. Beware indeed, blushing newlyweds.

You know not the future that awaits.

Will there be hardship or indignity?

Or will one's future see the rarest accomplishment of all, a true love match? As for which of these fates await the eager matches of the season of 1813, only two things will tell. Time, and, as always, this author.

I sat on the couch reading a book as Eloise was trying to question Benedict after finding out that he knew Madame Delacriox.

"Then where did you meet her?"

"About town."

"At her shop?"

"Should you not be off somewhere, getting ready to attend your very first ball?" Eloise grunts angrily before sitting down at a table with Benedict.

"Brother, might I be able to join in on the fun this summer at Aubrey Hall? Brother!" Hyacinth asked.

"Provided you stay clear of my lucky mallet, I think it a fine idea," he nodded at her.

"You cannot be in earnest," Gregory protests.

"I shall begin practicing straightaway!" She hurries out of the room, making me laugh.

I overhear Eloise and Benedict talking about Madame Delacriox once again and roll my eyes huffing. I haven't spoken to either since before the concert and neither have realized anything was wrong.

"Aunt Winnie has sent word," mama announces. "Francesca will be arriving home tomorrow."

"How exciting!" Hyacinth says happily. When did she get back in here?

"Perhaps she can tell us of time spent far from London," Colin says with a bitter tone. He's still on about Marina.

"Fran has missed so much," Gregory exasperates.

Mama hums, "Indeed. It certainly has been an eventful season, what with Daphne and the duke, Alex and Eleanors concert season, and then Anthony and—Yes, well, never mind." She walks away with the letter as Anthony looks at her.

"Well, I shall go prepare for Amara's weddingl," Eloise says, targeted at Benedict. She starts to leave the room before turning around. "Are you not coming Eleanor?"

I stay silent, not even looking at her. "Len? Eleanor? Lenny! Sister! Why is she ignoring me?" Eloise asked Anthony.

"Well, it appears last night you did not enjoy yourself," Anthony tells her, not looking up from his paper.

"I didn't, it was horrible and boring," Eloise says.

"Did you even stay for the show? Either of you?" Anthony asked.

"Of course not why would we, we show up, say hello, then leave before anyone realizes," Benedict laughs. "Oh–"

"Oh, what?" Eloise asked, before, "Oh."

"Now, you see," Anthony quips.

"I didn't mean anything by it. I was just bored and I had got out of the night what I wanted. I knew Alex and you were going to be amazing with or without me there," she takes a breath. "As much as it pains me to usually say this. I am sorry."