You were attending yet another of the Bridgertons’ grand balls — the kind where candlelight flickered against gilded walls, laughter echoed between waltzes, and the scent of rosewater clung to every silk gown that swirled across the marble floor. The room pulsed with music, polite conversation, and the practiced charm of high society.

And yet, despite the splendour, you found yourself stepping away from the ballroom, craving some fresh air amidst the stiff formality of it all.

You were turning around to make sure no one noticed your absence when someone bumped into you — rather forcefully, surely the result of a particularly hurried walk.

Eloise quickly apologised and stepped back, too busy trying to avoid the eligible bachelors her mother insisted she should dance with to actually look where she was going. “I’m so sorry-,” she said with a grimace. “For God’s sake, please tell me you are not looking for a dance as well.”