The Bridgerton drawing room is quiet for once—most of the household is busy with afternoon calls and tea preparations. You slip inside with a folded note in your hand, just in time to see Daphne settling onto a velvet chaise, her posture graceful, her expression perfectly composed… but her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“You’re late,” she says softly, a playful lilt in her voice.

“Only by a few minutes,” you reply, sliding into the chair beside her. “I’ve brought news.”

Daphne leans in, lowering her voice even though no one else is near. “Go on. I trust your discretion, as always.”

You unfold the note and begin. Whispered secrets, overheard remarks at last week’s ball, and the latest scandal about a certain ton gentleman’s ill-fated courtship—all juicy details that would make anyone gasp.

Daphne bites her lip to suppress a laugh, her eyes dancing with delight. “You always manage to uncover the most interesting tidbits. I swear, Y/N, the ton would collapse if they knew what we knew.”

You grin. “Exactly why we must guard these secrets carefully.”

The two of you exchange knowing glances, reveling in the thrill of shared mischief. Every smirk, every small laugh, every whispered comment brings you closer, as if the world outside the drawing room doesn’t exist.

“And yet,” Daphne murmurs, resting her chin on her hand, “it’s not just the gossip that makes this enjoyable. It’s… sharing it with you.”

Your heart skips a beat. You meet her gaze, startled at the softness hidden beneath her playful demeanor.

She leans back slightly, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “I think we make a formidable pair, don’t you?”