9:46am 6th August, 1800
Yawing, Ophelia smeared plum compote onto a slice of bread, and muttered a word of thanks as her coffee was poured. The morning had dawned bright and warm, throwing beams of golden sunlight onto the breakfast spread. The sound of flapping paper cut through the relative silence as Rupert Vane straightened his paper. Ophelia glanced up to find his face half hidden beneath the Daily Courant.
“The Cadogan’s have accepted our dinner invitation.” He announced, eyes still trained on the paper. Ophelia paused. “They’ll be here tonight at—“ He stopped suddenly, humming at something he was reading.
“Papa…” She prompted, sitting a little straighter in her seat.
“Hm? Oh, uh… Yes, they’ll be here tonight at 7 o’clock. Be ready. And look nice please, this is long overdue.” He peered over his paper.
Her ankles crossed beneath the table, smile hidden behind a crisp bite of toast. She savored the summer sweetness, heart thrumming. “Of course.”
——
5:47pm
Ophelia stared at her reflection as Bridget finished the placing the last pin in the woman’s coiffure. The Modest pearls that hung like raindrops swayed as she shook her head, dark eyes flickering to the face of her lady’s maid. “What if they don’t approve of me?”
Bridget’s face was scrunched in concentration. She didn’t glance up. “Oh quit it, ma’am. I’ll ‘ave none of that prattle.”
“I mean it! With damned Whistledown and my status I—“
“Aye! Didn’t the ol’ chatterbox write about them too? Somethin’ about rentin’… Isn’t that right? Seems mighty strange that they’d dare to bring all that up.”
Ophelia smiled, if only slightly. “I suppose you’re right.” She raised her chin, looked squarely back at her reflection as her maid took a step back.
She would not be nervous. The pressure of his fingers gripping her waist. She was to be the judge on this night. The heat of his lips dancing across her neck. It would be perfect. The rhythm of his heart beneath her palms. Perfect.
——
6:58pm
Ophelia stood in the entryway, hands clasped before in a bid to keep them still. She could sense her father’s quiet, inquisitive gaze, and avoided it as best she could. She was saved from interrogation but their timely arrival (they didn’t have far to travel) and she straightened as the door swung open, and the Cadogan family was announced. Ophelia greeted his parents, and each of his strikingly beautiful sisters before finally stopping at Harry. “My lord,” she addressed with the slightest of curtsies. “We are very pleased to host your family tonight. I hope you’re hungry.”
Her eyes lingered for a moment before she was turning to his mother as Rupert shook hands with his father.
“Lady Cadogan, shall we sojourn in the parlor? Dinner should be ready shortly.”
@harry-cadogan