The ballroom is alive with chatter, the rustle of silk, and the faint tinkle of crystal glasses. You slip through the crowd to find Daphne Bridgerton, who’s perched gracefully near the edge of the room, her eyes scanning the throng with quiet amusement.

“Ah, there you are,” she murmurs, smiling as you approach. “I was hoping for an ally tonight.”

“An ally… for what?” you ask, intrigued.

She tilts her head, eyes sparkling. “A battle of wits. A duel of gossip, if you will. The ton is spreading the most ridiculous tales tonight, and I intend to… redirect them.”

You grin, catching on immediately. “A duel? Consider me at your side.”

Daphne leads you through the clusters of aristocrats, each whispering half-truths and conjectures. One lady is certain that Lord Grantham is secretly courting an actress; another insists that a Viscount has been spotted at a gambling den. Daphne listens carefully, then with a perfectly timed remark or question, she skillfully twists the gossip in a harmless but clever way, sending whispers ricocheting in unexpected directions.

You follow her lead, offering your own witty interjections, and together, the two of you become a force. Every rumor you hear is met with a charming, plausible “correction” or a clever quip, leaving the society members baffled and entertained.

At one point, a particularly sly Marquess attempts to trap you with a question about a fabricated scandal. You and Daphne exchange a knowing glance, a silent agreement passing between you. Daphne responds first, her voice calm but sharp:

“Surely, no one could believe such a tale? I would expect the ton to value discretion over rumor.”

You add, casually, “Indeed, and any true gentleman or lady would surely agree.”

The room buzzes with confusion. The Marquess opens his mouth to argue, then closes it, realizing the trap has been turned. Daphne stifles a small laugh, her eyes meeting yours with delight.

By the end of the evening, you and Daphne have left the room buzzing—not with scandal, but with admiration for your cleverness. Society members murmur among themselves, unsure whether they’ve been outsmarted or simply charmed.

Daphne leans close as you step aside from the crowd, voice low and playful. “You were brilliant tonight. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

You grin, matching her amusement. “I’d follow you into any duel, anytime.”

Her laugh is soft, genuine, and a little conspiratorial. “Then I suppose we’ve found a perfect partner in mischief… and perhaps something more.”