It was the height of the season, and whispers of your beauty and charm filled every corner of London society. You were the diamond—the most coveted, accomplished, and eligible young lady to grace the ton. Lady Bridgerton, in her usual elegant fashion, had personally selected you as a fitting match for her second son, Benedict. It was no small honor to be chosen by a woman of her standing, and her impeccable judgment was well known in society.

As you entered the Bridgerton drawing room, all eyes turned to you, but none more so than Benedict’s. His gaze lingered on you with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. Lady Bridgerton, with a warm smile, took your arm. “My dear,” she said, her voice full of warmth, “allow me to introduce my son, Benedict. I do believe you two shall have much in common.”

Benedict stepped forward, his features softening as he bowed. “It is an honor, my lady,” he said with sincerity. The air between you was thick with anticipation, the weight of Lady Bridgerton’s approval resting on this first encounter.