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bella notte
act i , distant memories
chapter two , dancing with our hands tied

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"A DANCE CARD?"

The words that left Belle's lips were said with a disbelieving grimace as she shot a curious look in the mirror before her, looking upon the reflection of the lady's maid, Grace, that stood behind her.

"I've never heard of them." She quickly surmised with a small hmph, earning a laugh from Grace, who looked up from where she had focused her attention on the Grantham girl's hair to respond to her statement.

"I assure you it's custom, my Lady."

Some time had passed since the Grantham family had left the Danbury estate and returned to Grosvenor Square. While Nicholas was terribly excited by the notion of a new home, Belle was far more apprehensive to re-enter her old house. She was rather thankful that they'd been ushered to the dining room for their dinner, and then promptly sent upstairs, to her newly appointed chambers, in order to ready herself for the ball, that evening.

Her uncle had introduced to Grace, who would be acting as her lady's maid, and was awfully excited by the promotion. The young woman told Belle that while preparing the fireplaces and assisting the cook, Mrs Pierce, was a most rewarding job, she was rather excited by the prospect of a promotion.

Belle thought she was rightly so.

"Sounds terribly old-fashioned if you ask me." The girl continued to grimace, wincing ever so slightly as Grace pinned up another section of hair.

"No one did."

The sound of a man's voice very quickly banished the calmer atmosphere that had settled between the two women in the room. Belle noticed Grace immediately stand up straighter, and turn her attention to the man stood in the doorway, while she merely rolled her eyes and kept her gaze fixed on her reflection.

"I believe it's polite to knock, Uncle."

Belle heard a light chuckle echo in response to her quip, followed by slow footsteps that told her that her uncle was making his way into the room.

"Forgive me." He apologised, shooting a glance between both Grace and his niece, who had only just turned around to face him to see him in dressed in his best. "I just wanted to see how you were getting along."

"Quite well, sir." Grace told him, her hands clasped behind her back as she spared a look at the young woman set before the vanity.

"I shan't hurry you, but Terence is preparing the carriage and I do not wish to arrive obscenely late." Leopold told them both, as he began retreating from the room

"That sounds an awful lot like hurrying, Uncle." Belle mused, arching an eyebrow at which her uncle promptly shook his head and emitted another chuckle.

"I'll see you in a moment." He finalised, shooting her a pointed look before disappearing out of the door and away down the hallway.

Belle let out a humoured sigh, and was fairly sure that she noticed Grace's shoulders visibly relax after her uncle had left the room.

The young Grantham was greatly intrigued by the dynamic between her uncle and his staff. She knew her uncle to be a rather understanding, generous man and while he sometimes drove her up the wall, she didn't find him particularly imposing figure. But, then again, she didn't work for him — she was his niece. And even then she didn't act accordingly.

"You must think I'm positively feral, Grace." Belle addressed the lady's maid after a moment of contemplation, a light chuckle lacing her voice. "I assure you I'm not deliberately so defiant."

"Not at all, my Lady."

"You needn't call me that." Belle quickly retorted with a light shake of her head, her brow furrowing.

"Pardon?" Grace asked, freezing ever so slightly in place, sparing a curious look at the woman before her.

"My Lady." Belle repeated, a small smile crossing her lips, as she gave the woman a small shrug. "Just Belle will do."

"But, my Lady, it is not proper—"

"And neither am I." Belle quickly countered with a light chuckle, humoured by the maid's sudden reaction. "Besides, I'm much more interested in making friends than I am in ordering people about."

Belle looked at the reflection of the woman stood behind her, and the small smile creeping onto her face at the gesture of the Grantham girl.

"Please feel at ease to speak with me candidly." The young woman continued, her gaze holding pure sincerity before quickly faltering into slight confusion as she heard a light chuckle sound from behind her. "What's so amusing?"

Grace looked slightly taken aback by Belle's observation, and quickly straightened up, her chuckle still shaking her slightly as she re-focused herself in the task at hand and began fixing the woman's hair once more.

"The servants talk." She admitted after a moment, placing another pin in the brunette's hair. "We weren't sure what quite to expect when you arrived, your uncle described you as an acquired taste before he left."

"An acquired taste?" Belle let out a scoff amidst a heart chuckle as she shook her head at her uncle's antics. "The cheek of that man."

"Please don't be offended." Grace spared her a small smile. "I do believe I quite agree with him ... you're rather refreshing — a breath of fresh air in this dusty old house."

Belle felt a small blush rise to the apple of her cheeks at the woman's compliments, and spared her a gentle smile of thanks. Before letting out a small sigh, and allowing her gaze to travel to the room around her.

She could tell it had only recently been cleaned, and after spotting one of the downstairs rooms covered in dust sheets, she wondered just how much more of the house had been covered.

"It is awfully gloomy, isn't it?" Belle voiced when her gaze returned to the mirror, a reminiscent smile on her lips. "It didn't used to be, you know. Or at least I can't remember it being."

Grace looked up from the dark waves of her hair and shot the girl a small smile of sympathy, as her gaze travelled around the room she'd once known.

A small sigh left Belle's lips before she shook herself from her reverie and plastered a resolute smirk on her face.

"I'll have to see that we liven the place up a bit." She told Grace, her smirk broadening a little as the maid returned it with a smile. "After all, it's no longer home to solely a grumpy bachelor."

The two girls broke into a small bout a laughter that they fought to suppress, before Grace came back to her sense and instructed the girl to sit up straight again.

"Are you excited for the Danbury Ball?" Grace asked, her eyes bearing a slight twinkle that informed Belle of the answer she expected.

"I'm not too sure." She answered honestly, nonetheless, a small sigh leaving her.

"Are you nervous?" Grace responded, arching an eyebrow in curiosity at which the Grantham girl merely shrugged.

"I suppose so. It's been an awfully long time since I've seen the members of the ton that I'll be reuniting with tonight." She let out another gentle sigh, attempting to shake off her nerves. "It would be strange if I wasn't apprehensive."

"I'm sure you'll make quite the impression." Grace assured her, resting her hands upon the girl's shoulders as she finished up with her hair.

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Belle!"

Her uncle's sudden cry from elsewhere in the house caused to the two girls to jump to attention, and a small scowl to break out across Belle's face.

"I'll be right along, Uncle!" She cried back at the same volume, a note of irritation present in her tone which earned another chuckle from Grace.

Belle rose to her feet, letting out a small breath as she smoothed down her dress and turned to face Grace with a bashful smile.

"Would you like any more rouge?" The maid asked, at which Belle let out a light chuckle and quickly shook her head.

"No, I'm sure this'll be enough." She responded, letting out another slow breath. "Besides I don't doubt my natural hue will shine right through after one dance. We wouldn't want to exacerbate it."

The maid gave another light chuckle as the two began walking towards the door that led onto the hallway.

"Have a nice time." Grace told her with a gentle sigh, her eyes still bearing a slight glint of excitement as she lingered in the doorway.

"I'll make sure to tell you all about it." Belle spared the woman a wink, her nerves fading ever so slightly. "Say goodnight to Nicholas for me."

"Of course."

Belle took another deep breath and travelled the few more steps it was towards the top of staircase, before casting a final glance back.

"Goodnight, Grace."

"Goodnight, my Lady—"

A pointed look from the young woman descending the stairs silenced the maid, who let out a light chuckle before correcting herself.

"Belle."

***

"MISS GRANTHAM, don't you look lovely?"

        Belle stifled a polite chuckle as she saw Lady Danbury manoeuvre her way through the crowd towards the young Grantham.

       "I assure it's all down to the handiwork of my lady's maid." The young woman assured the lady as she bowed her head in greeting. "You too look positively radiant, Lady Danbury."

        "You're too kind." Lady Danbury responded with a small smirk settling on her lips, before lowering her tone ever so slightly and arching a brow at the girl. "I see Leopold has already got you jumping through hoops."

        Belle felt her shoulders relax at the lady's words, as she shot her a bashful smile, her features contorting into an expression of helplessness.

        "I can hardly remember the carriage ride here." Belle told Lady Danbury, lowering her tone to match her volume. "If it wasn't don't furrow your brow, it was don't clench your jaw, don't this, don't that—"

         "Breathing, I believe, would aid you in this instance, dear." The lady quickly cut off her counterpart, placing a hand gently upon her forearm.

        "Sorry." Belle winced, as the lady withdrew her hand, the young woman's gaze travelling around the vast ballroom in which she stood. "I'm beginning to feel very out of my depth."

        "Naturally." Lady Danbury responded with a sympathetic nod, her eyes darting over to Belle's left where she could see her uncle approaching.

"Here you are." Leopold grinned, bowing his head slightly at Lady Danbury before handing his niece a small piece of card with a thin piece strings tied to it. "For your wrist."

Belle's face instinctively contorted into an expression of great displeasure, as she turned to look at her uncle.

"Oh, must I?"

"It is how things are done." He told her, his voice lowering as he placed the card in her grasp, earning a displeased sigh from his niece.

"Poor girl." Lady Danbury sympathised, shorting Leopold a knowing look before her attention was quickly captured by another guest. "If you'll excuse me."

           With that, the Lady vowed her head and took a step past the uncle and niece to greet more of her arriving guests.

         The Granthams had not arrived obscenely late to the Danbury Ball as Leopold had worried, despite the events being more or less in full swing, Belle still noted there were other guests that were far more tardy than them.

         She didn't know what quite to think as her eyes scanned the ballroom once more — it was certainly grand, but she wasn't sure it was completely to her taste. She could say for certain that no joy was brought to her as her uncle offered her his arm and the two began strolling along the perimeter of the room.

        "Do stop moping, Belle." He whispered to me, a small sigh leaving his lips as they stopped nearby one of the vast windows. "How about something to drink?"

         "Do they have any champagne—?"

          "Absolutely not."

          "Oh, Uncle!" Belle whined, a scowl crossing her features at her uncle's determination to spite her at every turn.

         "It is unseemly for a lady—"

         "How many times I have to tell you I'm not—?" She quickly countered him in a sharp whisper.

         "Not a lady, I know!"

         "What could I possibly do that would be so bad?" Belle sighed, her arms folding across her front as she moved closer to the window away from the commotion of the ball. "Why do I have to pretend to be somebody I'm not?"

         Her question went unanswered for a moment until her defeated sigh made her uncle's as he looked on her with tired eyes and a slight hint of sympathy.

         "Belle, we all do." He told her gently, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "It is the fraudulent nature of our society."

       "Well, that is awfully depressing." She quipped, her lips pursing as her gaze fell on the guests around her.

        Her brown eyes quickly surveyed her surroundings, watching as young women such as herself conversed with prospective suitors, barring their eyelashes and waving their fans expertly.

       It was rehearsed, it was perfected; it was complete ingenuity.

       Her hard stare quickly morphed into a soft gaze of pity, as she surveyed each and every woman — all of whom participated in the same act.

        "I'll fetch you a drink." She just about heard Leopold's words as she felt his hand leave her shoulder, subsequently awakening her from her horrid realisation.

        The brunette inhaled sharply and rolled back her shoulders, turning to look the window — although very little could be seen beyond the panes, instead she found herself looking at her own reflection.

        She grimaced, as her mind chided her; you look just as they do.

        The young woman's stare hardened as she began to become aware of an unpleasant itching sensation on her left wrist. Looking down, a derisive smile crossed her lips as her eyes landed on the dance card given to her by uncle.

        In a quick motion, Belle pulled the card from her wrist and discreetly threw it to the floor. She looked back at her reflection that a smug smile on her features; she may have looked the part, but she certainly wasn't going to play it.

       She gently rubbed the irritated skin with her other hand, and let out another breath as she averted her gaze from herself. However, in doing so, she felt her eyebrows furrow, her eyes had landed on reflection of the guests around her, all of whom were murmuring and looking in the direction of the door.

        Belle felt her eyebrow inadvertently arch as her curiosity blossomed, as she slowly turned around to cast her gaze in the direction of so many others. That was when she saw her.

         Belle had no doubt about who the guests were staring at as she turned and her brown eyes landed on a graceful, almost ethereal figure making her way through the door.

        The young woman found herself awestruck for a mere moment before her senses came back to her. She let out a small breath she wasn't even aware she'd been holding; she supposed that was what all young ladies, that she'd already witnessed playing coy, strived for.

       Even as cynical as she was, Belle had to admit the girl in the doorway the picture of perfection; but Belle never strived for perfection.

        She wondered who the girl was for a second, before her eyes travelled to the companions on her arms. On her left stood a man, tall and proud, his jaw clenched and dark sideburn that dressed his cheeks.

         One might even say he was handsome, but he was far too stern-looking for Belle. Alas, it was the girl other's companion, that held her right hand, that caught Belle's attention — in fact, the young woman swore her heart nearly stopped in her chest at the sight of the ageless Violet Bridgerton.

        A thousand memories came rushing back to the brunette as she surveyed the family matriarch, causing a shaky breath to leave her lips. She could see the woman beginning to scan the room, and very quickly her nerves got the better of her as the young woman found herself darted behind another pair of guests to escape the Viscountess' line of sight.

         Another breath left Belle's lips as she hesitantly craned her neck to take another look at the woman. Her mind also realised that her companions must have been Daphne and Anthony.

       The brunette swore that Lady Bridgerton hadn't change a bit. She saw her those same kind eyes coupled with her gentle smile and, all of sudden, Belle felt nine years old again.

        A sad smile crossed her lips as she tore her gaze away from the Viscountess and attempted to regain some composure; how she missed her own mother.

        "There you are!"

        Belle was slightly startled by the sound of her uncle's voice, but nonetheless quickly turned around to see him stood by the nearby window with a two drinks in hand and a woman by his side with light blonde hair, and a curious gaze that was fixed exclusively on the brunette.

       "What are you doing?" Leopold arched a brow as Belle strode over towards him, straightening up a little as the woman's gaze burned into her.

        "Nothing."

         Leopold pursed his lips in a way that told Belle he didn't quite believe, and if they weren't in the company of another, she had no doubt he would tell her so. But he did not. He simply outstretched his hand and offered her a glass.

         "Here." He cleared his throat, before looking at the woman by his side who had yet to take her eyes off his niece. "Belle, this is Lady Cowper."

       Belle quickly reminded herself of the stiff etiquette her uncle had taught her and stifled a quaint smile, bowing her head in the lady's direction.

       "How do you do?"

       "Your uncle was just telling me the nature of your return, Miss Grantham." Lady Cowper began, her voice so terribly rich and plummy that Belle had to fight off instincts to grimace at the sound. "Please accept my condolences, your mother and father were great friends of mine."

        Belle tried to hide her surprise, and simply bowed her head once again, sparing her the lady an appreciate smile that she hoped hid her confusion well; her parents had never mentioned the name Cowper to her.

        "I appreciate that, my Lady."

         "I must say, Lord Grantham, you managed to keep her return to the ton rather quiet." Lady Cowper turned her attention to Leopold with an arched brow.

       "Not deliberately, I assure you." Belle's uncle quickly dispelled any speculation with a nonchalant wave. "It's rather difficult for any news to travel, what with all the fuss of this Whistledown character?"

        "Yes, she's most intriguing." The lady nodded along with Leopold's statement, before arching her brow again at the young woman across from them. "Wouldn't you agree, Miss Grantham?"

        "I'm afraid I know very little of her, Lady Cowper." Belle responded eloquently, her hands clasped in front of her. "But my uncle tells me this sort of scandal sheet is rather out of sorts."

       "I'll say." Lady Cowper remarked, her lips thinning ever so slightly in contempt. "My Cressida looked positively ethereal yesterday, and yet she was spared no more than a line or two in the pamphlet."

       "Most tragic."

        Leopold shot his niece a warning glance, however the brunette was awfully fortunate that the lady did not pick up on the flatness of her delivery.

       "If you'll excuse me, I better find her." The blonde woman bowed her hand, and quickly bid goodbye to the pair of Granthams, walking away into the crowd.

        Belle's felt her shoulders slump as a large breath left her chest, and turned to face the window once more, promptly raising her glass to her lips and swallowing the water from within it in a matter of seconds. How could anyone maintain such idle chatter for an entire evening?

       "Steady there." Leopold chuckled, placing his hand on her shoulder and turning his niece to face the room once more.

       "Is all conversation so rigid, Uncle?" She looked at him with disbelief, surprised to seem him ponder her question as he raised his glass of champagne to his lips.

       "Well, the Cowpers are a rare breed, I'll grant you that much." He mused, earning a light chuckle from the brunette at his side.

       Belle watched as his eyes scanned the room, and promptly brighten as they landed on a particular matriarch.

       "Oh, I think I spy the Bridgertons." He told Belle, a genuine smile crossing his features as he took her hand in his. "Let us go and greet the Viscountess."

       "No!"

       The abruptness of her answer even caught Belle herself off guard, as she looked at her uncle with wide, desperate eyes, in turn causing him to furrow his brow in confusion at her behaviour.

       "Belle?"

        "I mean..." The brunette began, quickly trying to rescue herself from the boldness of her actions.

        Her eyes scanned the room and an immense relief washed over her at the sight of a gentleman who was bowing his head after, by the looks of it, engaging in a conversation with Daphne and Anthony Bridgerton. However, the second the man tore his gaze from them, he was faced by an ambush of vulturous mamas, all clambering for his attention.

       "Look! Simon's over there! I should greet him, he's meant to be escorting me after all."

        Another look of disbelief crossed Leopold's worn features as he softly let her arm go, and spared her a short nod.

       "Very well."

        Belle shot her uncle a grateful smile as she broke into a hasty walk in the direction of the Duke of Hastings, which was thankfully the opposite way to where the Bridgertons were heading.

       After a couple of paces, the brunette became conscious of her speed and slowed down ever so slightly, letting out a short breath as she looked over in Simon's direction.

      His dark eyes met hers and instantly pleaded with her, as he fumbled his way around excuses for escape the squabbling women.

       She couldn't fight the chuckle that bubbled in her chest as a smug smile filled her lips, and she stopped just a few steps from the swarm surrounding him.

       "Your Grace?" She asked innocently, an eyebrow arching as her greeting silenced the squabbling women around the Duke.

      "Miss Grantham." Simon replied, plastering a polite smile on his face as he took the few steps towards her in stride. "What a pleasant surprise."

       Belle simply spared him a nod as he linked her arm with his own, she knew if she opened her mouth only laughter was spill out.

         "Is that Isabella Grantham?"

         Belle heaved a light sigh as the first of the whispers filled her ears. She knew just as well that her actions in reaching the Duke would have caused slight commotion, she was just surprised they'd identified her so quickly. Then again, she was almost certain that she saw Lady Cowper amongst the whispering crowd.

         "I thought the family moved to Italy."

         "I heard she's returned to find herself a suitor."

        "It appears she's set her sights on the Duke of Hastings."

       Belle shook the whispers off with a light shake of her head as she and Simon stepped out of earshot, promenading around the perimeter of the ballroom.

        "And so the woman saves the man?" The brunette mused, sparing the Duke a smug smile as he merely rolled his eyes.

       "Grin all you like." He told her, his tone laced with a gentle chuckle. "I'll grant you anything if it gets me away from those vulturous mamas."

       "Anything, you say?" Belle chuckled along with him, before pursing her lips in feigned thought. "I suppose a pony would do it."

      Another chuckle shook the Duke as his attention was caught elsewhere, Belle followed his gaze for the dance floor where couples were preparing for another dance to begin.

       "Care to dance?" Simon offered, nodding in the direction of the middle of the room.

       "I suppose if I have my choice of partners." Belle shrugged, as Simon pulled her towards the centre of the floor.

        "Just don't step on my feet." He looked at her with a knowing glance, placing her hand on her waist at which she only smirked.

       "Don't tempt me."

       Before another word could be exchanged between the duo, the string quartet began playing a simple waltz in three-quarter time and the dancers on the floor quickly followed the sway of the music, elegantly dancing their way around the ballroom.

       Belle had always enjoyed dancing, although spited the notion that it made her all the more conforming to society. Still, at least it was one  aspect of the evening she didn't have to feign enjoyment for. The movement of the dance was almost second nature, she paid very little attention to how her feet moved her own in time with the music — she found it just happened naturally.

       "They're staring." Simon muttered in a low tone, after pulling Belle back into hold from a spin.

        "I suppose you can take your pick on whether it's you or me." She told him with a gentle chuckle, as they continued to waltz their way across the floor. "We're equal in that sense."

       "Maybe we'll make tomorrow's Whistledown." The Duke replied in faux excitement, a kidding smile crossing his lips.

       "Oh I do hope so." Belle agreed, playing along with his jest. "I didn't travel all this way not to be."

       The music hit a crescendo prompting the male partners to spin the female ones once more, before spinning them back into hold and proceeding with their routine.

       "Who were you talking to earlier?" Belle asked, an eyebrow arching as she recalled seeing the man in brief conversation with two of the Bridgertons.

       "Aside from the swathes of mamas?" He prompted, a grimace passing over his face as the brief mention, before he continued. "The Viscount Bridgerton and his younger sister?"

       "Goodness." Belle remarked, as Simon reminded her of Anthony's societal title. "Of course, Anthony took his father's title."

      The young woman pondered for a second as her thoughts swirled in her mind. She remembered Anthony as a very eager young boy, although he was quite a bit older than her, she remembered him fondly; there was a time when she had thought of him as her own older brother.

      A hint of a sad smile passed across her features as she recalled seeing him upon his arrival at the ball. She hardly recognised him. She supposed there wasn't much of that child left.

       "It seems awfully grown-up, doesn't it? Taking on titles?" She brought herself back to her conversation with Simon, posing a query to the Duke. "Are we sure we're not still children?"

       "I'm certainly not." He quickly rebuffed her before cracking a gentle smile. "I can't say the same for you."

        Another chuckle shook the brunette as she filled her eyes at the man opposite her, before pressing her lips together as a meddlesome thought crossed her mind.

       "You were speaking to his younger sister, weren't you?" She asked, feigning innocence as she studied his features to gauge his reaction. "Daphne?"

        "Is that her name?"

        "Whistledown declared her the season's incomparable." Belle pressed, her eyes narrowing shamelessly.

         "Did she?" He replied once more, seemingly unfazed by her comment, but Belle wasn't quite satisfied with his response.

         "Don't tell me you didn't notice, Your Grace." She chuckled airily, arching a brow and they came to a stand still, the music that had accompanied softly dying. "I know your reputation, I don't believe you wouldn't take note of a pretty lady."

       Simon fixed her with a knowing look and shook his head at her meddlesome antics, before letting out a sigh and giving a light tut.

       "It appears our dance is coming to an end." Simon surmised, a look of faux sadness crossing his face. "An utter shame."

        "Simon!"

        "As always, you've been a nuisance." The Duke told her, taking her hand in a gesture of farewell.

        "You're such a bore." Belle told him, her lips pursing as she shook her head at him.

        "Evening, Belle." He finalised, taking a few steps away from her and off the dance floor.

       "So much for an escort!" She called after him, making her own way off the floor with a humoured smile across his lips.

         Her gaze quickly set itself on the table ladened with refreshments a few strides away, and quickly made a beeline for it. She thought it to be ridiculous to need a drink after one rather dance — and a slow one at that! — but she could feel warmth in her cheeks, and briskly swiped a glass from the tabletop.

        "Are you enjoying yourself at last?"

        The brunette very nearly choked on her water as the crisp voice of Lady Danbury cut through her midst. She hadn't noticed the lady lingering by the table, but that was probably due to the young woman basking in the rewarding feeling of getting under the Duke of Hastings' skin.

        "I'm amused, I suppose." Belle replied to the lady, clearing her throat gently as she spoke. "But I should tell you that all down to the Duke's antics, not the wider celebration."

        Lady Danbury pursed her lips and nodded at the girl's words, before narrowing her eyes in conniving way that brought a smile to the Grantham girl's lips.

        "Let me see if I can change that." The lady declared, taking her cane in hand and gesturing for the girl to follow her. "Come."

       Intrigued by the hostess' behaviour, Belle spared her a light chuckle and — after finishing her water and setting the glass back down upon the table where she got it — absentmindedly followed.

         Her gaze flitted around as she followed after Lady Danbury, her gaze scanning the crowds, looking around to see whether Simon had been ambushed by mamas once more or whether Leopold had decided to grant himself another glass of champagne.

        Her mind was comfortably distracted, as she paid little attention to where the conniving lady was taking her — if she had, she would have been far more prepared for the interaction that would soon follow.

        "I believe you may already be acquainted, but allow me to present Miss Grantham."

       She faintly heard Lady Danbury announce her name above the overwhelming chatter of the guests. Belle sensed that the lady had come to stop and it was only then that she brought her attention back to where she had been led.

       The brunette could practically heard the smirk which Lady Danbury wore as she voiced her next words.

       "Miss Grantham, the Bridgertons."

       A soft breath left her lips as reality dawned on her and she came face to face with her past.

       Yet she was only breathless when her warm brown met those grey ones of his; those same eyes she'd remembered all those years;

       Benedict Bridgerton had not changed in the slightest.

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖆 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖘!
these kids will be
the death of me.

also my brain went
on a hsm binge listen
and i have now
ultimately declared
that 'can i have this
dance?' is the official
belledict theme song
from this now until
eternity, thank you

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