Chapter Text
Dearest Readers,
With the bloom of wisteria comes one of the most momentous days in our calendar: the start of a new social season.
With this day finally upon us again, new and old faces alike will be presented this afternoon to Her Majesty the Queen, at the Royal Palace, subjecting themselves to her critique on a quest to seek the highest praise one can earn - the title of this season's diamond.
So you might ask, what will make this year's season stand out from the rest?
In truth, only time will tell. However, if whispers are to be believed, a certain outcast, His Grace James Barnes, Duke of Brooklyn, will be making his long awaited return to court, setting all young ladies hearts a flutter.
Could this year be the season the scandalous Duke finally relents and takes a wife? My instincts and insight indicate it will be.
Because if there is one thing in life people are willing to take risks for, it is love.
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown
* * *
The warm spring sun shone through the windows of the palace parlour, as finicky mothers put the final touches on their daughters' appearances before the grandeur double doors were set to swing open, inviting them to cross the threshold into their new life.
Your mother beamed at you after fixing the feathered tiara to your head, which in your opinion made you look like a ridiculous goose, but was a requirement of your debut in front of Her Majesty. You nervously tugged at the ends of long white gloves that came to rest halfway up your bicep as your mother continued to fuss over every inch of your dress.
You had never been so nervous in your entire life, and at the present time were so caught up in your anxious thoughts you didn’t hear your mother repeating your name beside you. Only her soft, gloved touch on your exposed upper arm pulled you from your trance.
“You’ll be perfect darling. Regardless of the Queen’s appraisal, the right man will see how beautiful you truly are.”
You managed a small smile, but it was to alleviate her worries more than your own.
Every excruciating hour of your life which had been dedicated to studying and practising to become the perfect lady led to this very moment. Presenting yourself in front of the Queen of England, who with one look would determine if you were to be the diamond of the season, and therefore worthy of the most eligible bachelor London had to offer, if you were fated for a loveless political marriage, or perhaps the worst scenario, no husband at all.
Your worries were only further intensified by the notion that given your current familial circumstances, your mother wanted you off the marriage market by the conclusion of the social season. You knew your mother loved you deeply, and only had the best of intentions when it came to your happiness, so you didn’t have the heart to tell her the pressure was eating you alive.
The eligible ladies were introduced in order of rank, one by one announced to a room full of nobility and upper-class families for the Queen to make her assessment, until you were the last debutante remaining in the parlour.
A booming baritone voice announced you and your mother’s titles as all eyes in the room turned to you. Your stomach contorted and though you felt like you were about to throw up, you pushed the feeling down as you knew puking in front of the Queen was just about the worst first impression you could make.
Your hands shook uncontrollably and heart thumped rapidly in your chest as you straightened your posture and started taking small, delicate steps towards the Queen and her ensemble. The entire room was silent, so much so that the clicks of yours and your mothers heels filled the entire room.
Your mother always stressed how important this first impression was. As someone who had a relatively low rank amongst present company, a favourable opinion from Her Majesty would be vital for securing any marriage prospects.
As you stepped ever closer to the dais, you were no closer to figuring out what the blank expression on the Queen’s face indicated. You hadn’t seen her react to any of the other ladies' presentations, so you were painfully unaware whether this was a favourable reaction or not.
Once you reached the base of the platform, you bowed your head and dropped to a curtsy so low you were practically kneeling. Your mother did the same beside you, as low as her older knees would allow, and then you waited for your indication to rise.
Which didn’t come.
The silence extended to an unnatural length, but you compelled yourself to stay perfectly still. You were before the Queen of England, so no matter how out of place and alarmed you felt in this moment, you could not put a toe out of line.
Whispers propagated around the room, and you took a shaky breath in fear of what this prolonged silence from Her Majesty possibly signified.
Could she be that horrified by your presentation?
Finally, the Queen shifted her position on the throne, and to your utter shock, stood and made her way down the steps of the dais so that she was directly before you - the whispers about the room now turning to gasps.
Her Majesty’s gloved finger tilted your bowed head up to look at her. Following her touch, you finally rose and noticed the small smirk tugging at her lips.
“Stunning.” She simply proclaimed, before nonchalantly turning around and taking her place back on the throne as if she hadn’t just completely changed your life with a single word.
The chaos which ensued from that point onwards was formidable. Not only did most of the young men in attendance compete with each other for a moment of your attention, engulfing you in a sea of unfamiliar faces who you knew were only interested because of the Queen’s actions, but every other lady who had just been presented now eyed you with bitter and begrudging stares.
Though you suspected the marriage mart would have a transactional essence which most likely removed the romantic element of becoming engaged, you expected the bachelors to at least want to get to know you as a person if they were serious about the commitment of marriage, rather than seeing you as a political chess piece from the beginning.
You were sadly mistaken.
Excusing yourself from the mayhem, you scrambled to find a corner of the palace in which you could have a moment alone, away from all the demanding voices, loud music, foreign faces and stuffy air of the throne room.
Scurrying through a labyrinth of corridors, you finally found a doorway that led outside. Once the doors were shut behind you, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the fresh spring air to finally fill your lungs and slow your thumping heart.
“Are you alright?” Startled by another’s presence, your eyes shot open, only to be met with yet another unfamiliar face. However, this young lady’s was warm and inviting, seemingly concerned about your well-being, which was a stark contrast to those inside.
“You look flustered, here, come sit.” She patted the spot beside her on the garden bench, only now noticing that the courtyard you found yourself in was filled with beautiful pink roses in full bloom. You thanked the stranger prior to sitting beside her, then expelled a large sigh.
“That bad?”
“All of the attention, it’s… overwhelming to say the least. I’m simply a Baron’s daughter, I never expected to be met with such recognition, but neither the jealous stares nor the scrutiny.” You admitted, though the woman let out a stifled laugh as if she understood all too well.
“Yes, court can be such a ruthless place with all the eagar debutantes and their mama’s vying for every eligible men’s attention. I, myself, prefer to stay as far away from that bedlam as possible.” Hearing someone speak aloud that they held a similar animosity towards court as you now did since your introduction not even an hour ago, helped calm the agitated storm swirling in your chest.
“I unfortunately don’t have that option. My father passed last year and now my mother insists I must marry so that I can secure my future.” You disclosed with a heavy heart, twiddling your fingers in your lap as a distraction from the memories of your cheerful father being recalled at the forefront of your mind.
“My condolences.” The stranger gave you a small smile, pausing the conversation for a moment as if to determine how to change the subject. “What a horrible society we live in where we have to rely on men to exist in this world.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” You chuckled as a knowing look passed between the two of you. “Is that your way of indicating you aren’t partaking in this season?”
“If it were up to me I would never subject myself to such an appalling tradition, but my brother has other plans.” She shook her head indignantly, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Oh, and why’s that?”
“He refuses to take a wife himself, even though as the eldest it’s essentially a requirement. But alas, the family's reputation now rests on my weak shoulders it seems.” You sensed there was more to the story, but as virtual strangers, you thought it rude to probe further.
Before you had the opportunity to admit you felt under the same pressure as she currently did, your mother burst through the doors to the courtyard.
“There you are dearest, why aren’t you inside mingling with the gentleman?”
“I needed a breath of fresh air mama.” You rationalised, hoping your mother wouldn’t force you to spend another minute inside with the all too eager gentleman. She let out a sympathetic sigh, eyes darting to your new acquaintance. You noticed a slight tensing in her posture upon recognising the stranger beside you, which prompted her to speak again.
“Come along then, we must begin getting you ready for Lady Danbury’s ball tomorrow night.” Curious as to why your mother now seemed ill at ease, but knowing better than to ask, you stood from the seat.
“It was lovely meeting you.” You commented, turning to the affable stranger one last time.
“Likewise.” She smiled softly, but there was something about her demeanour which indicated she knew exactly why your mother was hastily removing you from her presence.
“I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Rebecca.”
You returned her smile and reciprocated her kindness by providing your own name, before being swiftly ushered away by your mother. You flashed Rebecca an apologetic look over your shoulder as you left her alone with her thoughts on the garden bench.
Even though you only spoke for a short moment, it was comforting to know you weren’t the only one inundated with the expectation and duty synonymous with the social season.
You might not have found a husband this afternoon, but you surely found a friend.
* * *
Between the time of your premature exit from the palace courtyard and your entrance at Lady Danbury’s ball, your severe detest of the court and the politics at play within it, only heightened.
Your mother seemed convinced that with the Queen’s actions the day before, she would not hesitate to name you the season’s diamond by that night, and from there it would only be a matter of days before the numerous marriage proposals started rolling in.
You appreciated that within this society, any proposal from a man with a highly esteemed family was difficult to acquire and should be deemed a triumph, but the romanticist within you, the girl who grew up reading tales of beautiful love stories between a prince and his fair maiden, was remarkably disappointed at the lack of romance and courtship in finding a husband.
Stepping into Lady Danbury’s castle of a home, you thought there could not be a more beautiful setting to have a magical meeting with someone who may in fact soon become your husband. Aromatic white roses adorned a grand staircase, and had been used to create elaborate centrepieces on every table in the dining room; gold trim covered every surface, and perhaps most beautiful of all was an ornate floral design newly painted on the polished hardwood floors.
But you were seemingly setting yourself up for further disappointment as every man you had the pleasure of interacting with in this fairytale mansion was only interested in how you could be of service to him - how you could entertain him on the pianoforte, how many children you’d be expected to bear, and if you’d be capable of running an efficient household.
You did your best to remain polite and genteel, however, you found it beyond insulting that all these men spoke to you as if you were interviewing for employment. None showed any concern about actually courting you, they treated you as if proposing marriage was doing you a favour.
Which you supposed in this society perhaps they were, but you had come to the realisation that you’d rather be considered an old spinster than the wife of a man who treated you like a servant.
Knowing there was at least one person in attendance tonight who held as much, if not more, contempt for the court’s customs as you did, you roamed the residence in search of Rebecca. After navigating what felt like the entire ground floor, you finally found her leaning on a column, beside the food tables in the corner farthest from the dance floor.
“Enjoying your night?” Rebecca asked with a distinctly sarcastic tone.
“Oh yes, I’m positively having the time of my life.” You responded, matching her sardonic tone before taking a sip of lemonade from the small crystal goblets the attendants meandering the party were handing out.
For the next half hour Rebecca and you stationed yourselves in the secluded corner of the ballroom, sipping on lemonade and poking fun at all the young men and women who were either awkwardly moving around the dance floor or making a fool of themselves in conversation, and the desperate mama’s who were all too eager in finding a match for their daughters. Both of you giggling the entire time as if you were tipsy on your father’s whiskey.
Just as your mother’s scornful eye met yours, as if to ask why are you not socialising with the gentleman, the mellow music played by the string quartet and all conversation within the room abruptly stopped, as the embellished front doors swung open to reveal a tall, dignified young man with chestnut brown hair whom you didn’t recognise.
Whispers broke out around the room as the man failed at concealing his late entrance by remaining towards the perimeter of the space.
Is that the Duke of Brooklyn?
I never thought I’d see his face back at court since the scandal of his debut season.
Oh, but is he not the handsomest man you have ever seen?
Whistledown was right!
The dark blue of his coat accentuated his striking azure irises, which at that exact moment met yours from across the room, and you could have sworn your heart stopped completely. Indeed, the Earth may have stopped revolving for when you caught the gaze of this attractive mystery man, the entire world faded away, the music in the room a distant hum, Rebecca’s presence beside you and the gentry scattered around the room vanished completely as it seemed you were the only two in existence for that moment.
He was indeed extremely handsome. Perhaps the most stunning man with exceedingly charming features you ever set your gaze upon, but it was the endearing nerves and gentleness behind his beautiful eyes and bashfulness of the lopsided smile he flashed towards you which had you enchanted.
Your cheeks heated as he continued to stare, his line of sight remaining on you rather than surveying the room and all the beautiful women within it. Though your mouth suddenly became dry and your chest tightened markedly, making it impossible to take a steadying breath, you managed to reciprocate a small smile, which appeared to settle his nerves slightly, however, you were sure you were imagining it.
The room only started reappearing in vivid colour once his gaze broke and flickered to Rebecca beside you, and with a look of radiant recognition, which was followed by a sudden twinge of jealousy in your chest, started walking through the crowds towards where you were standing.
“Brother.” Rebecca said with a court nod, but your jaw almost hit the floor. She was the sister of a Duke? Why had she not mentioned that?
“Becca, I hope you haven’t been causing too much trouble.” The Duke said with an amused chuckle, the sound of which was the sweetest noise you had ever heard. It lightened your heart and all you wanted was to listen to his laugh on repeat to learn the intricacies of it.
“I’ve been a perfect angel, thank you very much.” She said with a sly grin before officially introducing you.
“It is a pleasure, Your Grace.” You politely curtsied, but as soon as you corrected your posture and your eyes locked with his once more, he took a hold of your hand - which was when you noticed he too was wearing gloves, rather odd choice for a gentleman. That thought, however, was soon vapourised from your mind when he bent down and, whilst maintaining eye contact the entire time, placed a soft kiss to your outstretched hand.
Though you had never experienced the sensation before, you desperately desired for his soft, plump lips to instead be pressed against your own rather than your covered knuckles.
“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.” There was something of a scoff from Rebecca beside you, but you were so focussed on how James’ blue eyes were exuding awe and tenderness whilst staring at you, that you hardly noticed.
“I’m sure you will tell me the truth,” James’ intoxicatingly deep voice was directed at you, “has my sister danced with any eligible bachelors tonight?”
“Oh, hundreds!” You gave a small chuckle, knowing you didn’t sound at all serious. “Not sure how she's still on her feet.” Nudging Rebecca slightly, all she and her brother could do was laugh.
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” James added which prompted a snarky ‘not in your lifetime’ remark from his sister.
As the music from the centre of the room concluded the dance, you noticed a hovering group of gentlemen who were bickering as to which of them would be able to ask you and Rebecca who had, up until this point, achieved your goal of not participating in any dances.
“Your Grace, would you do me the honour of a waltz?” You asked with a boldness you were only afforded by the complete despise of wanting to be in the same proximity of any of the men who treated you like someone they were entitled to earlier in the night.
“You’re asking me to dance?” His eyes were wide with pure shock, but it only made them more alluring, deeper and somehow bluer up close, easier to get lost in.
“Only if you want to, of course. But if you do, please do so before that herd of men stampede over here to fill my dance card.” You knew it was generally improper for a lady of your rank to ask a Duke to dance, but you were desperate not to be thrown into the foray of disagreeable men.
With a nervously disbelieving laugh, which seemed to have more to do with not thinking he’d be dancing tonight than your aberrant request, and a quick glance to his sister, James held out his gloved hand and gave you the sweetest smile you had seen on him tonight as he escorted you to the centre of the room.
You felt all eyes turn to you as the room quietened to mere whispers, his joyous smile vanishing completely. James looked as severely uncomfortable being the centre of attention as you felt. You fully expected him to excuse himself and run towards an exit, however, when your gloved hand on his cheek gently directed his gaze back down at you, the anxiety which had seemingly overcome him, dissipated as easily as steam.
The horrified whispers of the gentry around the room once again faded to nothing when he looked at you.
The consuming anxieties of the past few weeks concerning what would become of your future dissolved, even when arguably they should be higher than ever. His beautiful eyes had a certain quality to them that alleviated all your worries instantly.
“Ignore them. Just look at me.” You reassured him and that same smile he flashed you earlier crept back onto his features. The knowledge that this handsome man, with the most dazzling smile, was only beaming because of you, took your breath away.
As the music slowly started up again, one of James’ hands took yours gently in his while the other rested on your back, pulling your body ever closer to his. You placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and though it seemed obvious as soon as he had entered the ball, it was only now you appreciated how tall and muscular his frame was.
Even with two layers of fabric between the skin of his gloved hand and your back, his soft caress sent a shiver down your spine and made you feel so dazed that you barely heard the musical cue to begin the dance steps.
He led you around the room in time to the beat, and it took all your willpower to keep your eyes focussed on his and not let them drift down to his lips. Being so close to him, the combination of his heavenly scent, tender touch and warm breath as his deep voice spoke friendly banter in your ear, made you weak at the knees. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to finish the dance if he kept this up.
Luckily for you, and your knees, for the second time that night the entire room completely stopped and stared at a late arrival. This time however, the Queen herself strode through the doors as those she passed bowed and curtsied with muttered Your Majesty’s. Her eyes flashed to you and your dance partner, a disgruntled expression overtaking her features as she murmured something inaudible to a servant.
Despite the music ceasing, and most of the other couples separating an arms length away from one another, you felt no inclination to remove yourself from the enticing touch of the Duke. However, to your disappointment, he must have felt very differently because as soon as the Queen’s eyes landed on the pair of you, he let go of your embrace instantly and moved a couple steps away.
“A respected lady such as yourself shouldn’t be associated with the likes of me.” He remarked despondently, his beautiful eyes, which you wanted to continue to stare into for eternity, now looked towards the hardwood floor.
“What are you referring to?” You desperately asked as he started to back away from you, weaving between guests, but you followed in need of answers.
“It doesn’t matter. I should never have come tonight.” He quickly said with a shake of his head, prior to hastily making his way back to Rebecca in the secluded corner. Before you had a chance to catch up with him, he was escorting her to the exit and out into the cold night, the memory of his gorgeous blue eyes and the fading imprint of his hand on your back the only mementos you had of your time together.
You only had a moment to mourn the loss of the stranger you arguably had no right to care about as deeply as you did, for the Queen was now centre stage in the ballroom, receiving the attention of every guest, preparing to make a proclamation.
“After what I have seen tonight, I am left with no other option.” Her Majesty declared while shooting you a disapproving look. “I am announcing for the record my diamond of this season is Lady Dorothy Fitzgerald.”
Rather than disappointment at not being named the most eligible lady in court, as your mother had been certain about, your body flooded with relief.
Known affectionately as Dot to her close family and friends, Dorothy was the daughter of a Marquess and, in your opinion, a much more suitable choice for diamond. Perhaps now the gentlemen would leave you alone and you’d be able to disappear into the crowd of gentry, rather than being the dreaded centre of attention.
With the fun for the night now clearly at its end, and more whispers referencing you than ever before, you made the easy decision to take your leave. You quickly sought out your mother and waited with her in the brisk night air for your carriage to be brought around, now feeling the loss of James’ warm touch even more so than inside.
“Your association with that man tonight is the reason why you were not named the season's diamond.” Your mother shook her head indignantly, scoffing under herbreath. “After what he’s done, how could you dance with him?”
“Mama, I truly do not know what the Duke has done to deserve this treatment, he was nothing but a gentleman to me; and it is clear that he cares deeply about his sister.” You remarked, perplexed at everyone’s treatment of the only man that had shown you any ounce of kindness this evening.
“Specifics are not for a young lady to know, but during his debut season he tarnished the good name of a young lady, then refused to marry her - and I will not let him do the same to you.”
* * *
Dearest Reader,
I shall skip the pleasantries and start out of the gate with the gossip I’m sure you’re all yearning to hear - the Queen has officially named her season’s diamond. However, a singular event at Lady Danbury’s ball last night has comprehensively eclipsed this news.
As predicted, His Grace James Barnes, Duke of Brooklyn, made his first appearance in court since his infamous debut season, arriving late no less. But what set whispers cascading around the room, and the ton, was the scandalous Duke shamelessly dancing centre stage with the debutante who was favoured to be the season's diamond until the announcement last night.
Most seem to think given the Duke’s history, this is a blight on the young lady’s reputation. Personally, I think she may have just hooked the catch of the season.
Even though she will not formally be known as the diamond, I have not given up hope on a love match for this jewel. In truth, after last night, that prospect seems more hopeful than ever.
As we know, diamonds are forged under great pressure, and it seems this young lady will be under a lot more duress than the rest of her fellow debutantes.
This season will test if this gem truly can shine!
Yours Truly,
Lady Whistledown
* * *
“I told you my appearance would only be a blemish on your marriage prospects Becca. And now, it seems, your friend’s as well.”
There was not a single part of him that wanted to be in attendance tonight, but he knew all young ladies needed someone there as chaperone, looking out for their best interests, and without any parents to do so, that role for Becca fell in his lap.
“You cannot taint something that doesn’t exist, Bucky.” Becca laughed as she stepped foot in their large manor, only to realise Bucky didn’t find the notion at all amusing. No, he indeed found it horrifying. He could live with his reputation being ruined, but that of his sister and her friend? The thought shredded his heart.
“I would not worry Buck, neither of us are all that eager to take a husband anyway.” He knew Becca was only trying to ease his worry, but this statement did the exact opposite.
“She’s not interested in marriage?” That thought somehow terrified him more than any other of the night.
“Why? Are you?” There was a mischievous tone to her voice which Bucky wanted to crush the implication of quickly.
“You know I am not. I am simply happy to see you made a friend in court. That’s not awfully common for the Barnes siblings.”
“Sure you are.” Becca’s signature cheeky smirk didn’t fade from her features as she bid him good night.
Bucky had once thought that this large house he inherited, which was lonely and quiet with only Becca and himself inhabiting it, would be the perfect place to take a loving wife and make it a home by filling it with as many children as she wished to have. However, that dream died along with his reputation years ago.
There were many milestones he had looked forward to prior to the incident, but he now lived an isolated and forlorn life, any companionship beyond Becca and whatever family she chose to have, seemed out of the realm of possibility.
But for a short moment tonight, as he held your body in his arms, your piercing eyes twinkling under the ballroom light, he allowed himself the selfish pleasure of permitting the thought of you being at home within his house to enter his mind.
Bucky had quickly squashed the image as he knew that could not be a reality in this lifetime. There was no point fantasising about a scenario which could never come true, right? Holding out hope for something that would only inevitably break his heart.
Nevertheless, that night all his subconscious wanted to dream of was you, showing him his innermost desires. Those eyes he wished to spend a lifetime learning every detail of. That dazzling smile which he craved to be the sole reason for.
The smallest of details would be lost in the haze of dreams once he awoke, but the depiction of you his subliminal envisioned wore his mother’s engagement ring proudly on your left hand.
The following night’s ball at the Royal Palace was a source of pure torture for Bucky. If it weren’t for Becca’s insistence that she wanted her older brother beside her, and the assurance that you would in fact be in attendance, he would have not entertained making an appearance.
Having to brave seeing the Queen herself, who loathed him with every fibre of her being, and face the possibility of being turned away from the ball before even stepping foot in the castle, were two undertakings he would have to contend with, but what was making him most nervous was the likelihood that he would see you again.
Evidently, after making his way into the palace, ignoring the constant disapproving stares and the ‘tut’s’ of reproachful mama’s, it would be a long, agonising wait for Bucky’s eyes to land on you again. The wait, however, was completely worth it, for when you walked into the ball, his scarce memory of you the night before was no match compared to your immersive beauty in person.
Bucky couldn’t help but feel solely responsible for the downcast expression on your face as you navigated between the crowd of upperclassmen who refused to meet your eye.
Even with the secluded life he led, Bucky knew the talk of the ton was why the Queen hadn’t named you the diamond. That there must be something so horribly wrong with you that you’d willingly choose to dance with the ostracised Duke of Brooklyn.
However, as soon as you spotted Bucky and Becca, your smile lit up as bright as the sun.
“You look beautiful!” Becca exclaimed, admiring how the soft, detailed fabric and the cut of the dress complimented your figure, taking your hands and excitedly spinning you around. Bucky certainly agreed with her observation, he had never seen someone so exquisite in his life. The beaming smile on both his beloved sisters and your face was reward enough for attending tonight.
After exchanging pleasantries for a minute or two, Becca used the excuse of getting a glass of lemonade to covertly leave Bucky and you alone.
Bucky cleared his throat to give him a couple more seconds to think of something to say. When he looked at you, his brain seemed to cease functioning, and the way in which he had abandoned you on the dance floor the previous night was at the forefront of his mind.
“I’m positive you will have been told to stay away from me.” Even though his words might have suggested otherwise, Bucky very much enjoyed your warm presence beside him and appreciated your courage to be seen with him regardless of the consequences of last night's dance.
“Are you asking me to leave you in peace, Your Grace?” The prospect of you departing as quickly as you arrived was like a dagger to his heart.
“No, I specifically do not want you to leave.” Bucky professed, perhaps a little too eagerly. “However, I think it would benefit your reputation to not be seen with me.” Bucky mentally cursed his self-sabotaging behaviour.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Bucky could have sworn in that moment he was floating. If it wasn’t completely inappropriate and would ruin your modesty in front of the gentry, he’d have kissed you right then and there.
“You do not care to know why I have been shunned by the whole court?” Perhaps you already knew, but Bucky highly doubted that - if you truly did know, he was sure a respectable young lady like yourself wouldn’t be speaking with him.
“I truly do not know why these people treat you so poorly, nor do I care for the reason. I do not make it a habit to condemn people based on a singular past mistake. You have been nothing but kind to me, Your Grace, and I can see how much love you hold for your sister - I think that is much better evidence of your character.” The sincerity in both your voice and eyes had tears forming in his own.
“You’re something else entirely, aren’t you?” His gloved hand delicately brushed your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. Oh the things he wanted to do to you, wanted to make you feel, if only you were truly alone.
How he desired to remove the gloves he used to cloak what was underneath and let his skin finally come into contact with yours. How electrifying that moment would finally be. But Bucky knew he wasn’t ready for that step yet, regardless of his inclination to believe, or perhaps foolishly hope, that you would be untroubled by what he was hiding.
After taking a moment to study his eyes with a hint of a smile on your lips, you finally spoke.
“Would you care to dance, Your Grace?” Bucky’s heart almost jumped out of his chest.
“Even after what resulted from Lady Danbury’s ball?” He chuckled nervously.
“Especially after what happened at yesterday's ball.” A pert smile spread over your features as you grabbed his hand and cheerfully pulled him towards the dance floor, despite you both knowing the gossip that would ensue. The entire action was so endearing that Bucky couldn’t help but smile. Unable to take his eyes off you, he was completely ignorant to the disparaging glares being thrown his way.
The closeness of your body hypnotised him. Bucky wasn’t even sure how he was managing to move about the ballroom as his entire attention was on your eyes. You were captivating, so enthralling that he didn’t want to so much as blink so he could commit the whole night to memory.
How you were gazing at him. Your bewitching smile. That laugh which may soon be the sole reason he woke up every morning. How with just a glance you could make his heart stop in his chest.
He wanted to tell you everything, desired to say that the kindness you had shown him and his sister in the past two days far exceeded the combined compassion from the entire court since the scandal.
That meant the world to them.
You meant the world to him.
But Bucky had never been the best with words, at accurately describing his profound feelings then and there, so instead he smiled, hoping it could convey in part how thankful he was.
When the dance ended, and you were both slightly out of breath, he had a difficult time separating from you. Being in contact with you, though it was through the fabric of gloves, grounded him, provided a source of comfort like nothing else could.
Before he had a chance to articulate the surge of emotions within his chest, your mother stomped into view and he pulled away from your hold.
“Your Ladyship.” Bucky greeted, but she simply ignored his address.
“It’s time we took our leave.” She stated candidly, taking your upper arm a little too firmly for his liking, a look of woe flashing over your face.
“Mama we only just arrived. It would be rude not to stay for a couple more dances.” You attempted to persuade her, though she was having none of it.
“Leave the men wanting more.” Your mother tautly responded, with a finality which declared she wanted no more objections. With a forced smile, you turned back to him.
“I had a wonderful time tonight, Your Grace.” You stated earnestly, bending into a small courtesy, before your mother started escorting you from the ballroom.
Bucky kept his eyes trained on you your entire departure, not missing the way you briefly glanced over your shoulder before stepping out into the cool night air when your dazzling eyes locked with his for one last time that evening. He couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere else until he watched your carriage ride off through the large windows of the ballroom, finally out of sight.
He had never met someone with your poise, your wit or the same level of compassion and kindness as you did, and he had certainly never been in the company of someone who elicited the same kaleidoscope of butterflies when he so much as caught a glimpse of your alluring face amongst the crowd of gentry.
Marriages for love were rare to come by in this society, but he desperately wanted to believe when you had danced with him, you felt the same spark he did when your gloved hands met and bodies moved around the dance floor as one. That perhaps you felt even a fraction of the overwhelming breathlessness that he did when your eyes met, and maybe you had the same temptation to be so close that there was no space between you, and let him show you just how beautiful he really thought you were.
What had overcome him? He had barely known you a day, and yet he was already thinking of marriage when he had sworn off the idea of exchanging unsubstantiated wedding vows years ago.
Maybe with you, they wouldn’t be so fabricated.
Now that you were no longer in attendance, the ball seemed rather dull and held no interest for him. So, instead of wasting his time being courteous to those women and their families who might still be able to put his past aside, but were solely concerned with his wealth, Bucky gave his thanks through gritted teeth to Her Majesty for hosting such a delightful ball, informed an overjoyed Rebecca that it was time they took their leave, and escorted her to their carriage awaiting outside.
After spending the night enchanted by your company, it felt particularly lonely riding back to his home with an obvious space beside him, which you would fit in so perfectly, especially with Rebecca unusually quiet opposite him. Though the thought of romantic companionship had terrified him in the past, and the knowledge he still hadn’t revealed both of his biggest secrets to you, he found himself longing to see more of you, to experience that same warm affection that diffused through every inch of him whenever you were in the same room.
In fact, there was a foreign ache burning a hole in his chest which he suspected only your continued presence could soothe.
Bucky was now contemplating going to every social function of the season, braving the repulsive stares and contemptuous whispers, if it meant he would be blessed by your company for even a matter of seconds each time.
“You really like her, don’t you?” Rebecca’s voice cut through the serene silence in the carriage. Bucky didn’t know how to answer the question - did he like you? Of course he did, what was not to like? The more difficult reaction to hide was his suspicion that his feelings already ran much deeper than simply liking you.
But his younger sister had always been an expert at reading his countenances, there was nothing he could hide from her. A grin formed on Becca’s lips, and Bucky could tell she already knew the answer to her own question.
Though the odds were stacked against him with your mothers interference, and it seemed improbable for the likes of someone as unsociable as himself, Bucky set foot in his home believing he could have found what every eligible person entering court hopes to discover.
A true love match.