𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆
smythe-smith

GUINEVERE DID NOT enjoy the Smythe-Smith musicales much, but she was sure to attend them whenever invited.

It wasn't for the music, but to provide the silent support of not sneering at the quartet of Smythe-Smith girls forced to perform that year, if only for the single one of them that was not tone-deaf.

The best part of such events was the interval, where they were allowed to mingle, eat and drink, and best of all, give pause to their ears.

"You shall owe me the greatest of favors for this, Gwen," muttered Alleyne as he led her through the room.

"Are you forgetting you're here to repay a favor to me, Al?" Guinevere countered, smiling politely at the acquaintances they passed.

"Surely this more than makes up for it, enough that it makes you owe me one instead."

Guinevere gave him a sideways glance, making sure to keep her expression like that of a porcelain mask, but putting all the reproach of Wulfric into her gaze.

"I'll be sure to inform Wulf of that then."

Alleyne stiffened a bit, almost pausing in his stride, but soon relaxed and let out a chuckle. "You are wicked, sister."

"I think this is a very small price to pay, after all, had it been say, Freyja, to catch you, I would think the favor would be much greater."

He sighed and patted the hand that rested on his arm, smiling down at Guinevere. "Perhaps an angel, then? To spare me the embarrassment of being at Freyja's mercy."

It took all in her to keep the laugh bubbling inside, to maintain the expression of serenity. "Then smile and act as if you are glad to be here."

They stopped their conversation as they reached the table of food and drinks, and Alleyne made himself busy by procuring punch for both of them and then being engaged in conversation with some gentlemen, leaving Guinevere to enjoy the small pastries and gaze around the room.

There was a gaggle of young gentlemen all but crowding a small slip of a girl, one with very pretty doe eyes and a lovely blue dress that made her look like a delicate flower. Guinevere could not place a name to the face, so surely a new arrival of the ton, perhaps a newly debuted daughter. And there was almost no doubt she was probably this season's Incomparable, with the way people flocked to her, much as they had to Daphne Bridgerton last season.

"Oh, but I could never marry without my dear sister's approval," the young girl said, just loud enough to be heard outside her circle of conversation. "I trust Kate's judgment implicitly, even more than my own."

Guinevere could see the effect such words had on the crowd, and such gossip would be sure to make its way across the party like a wildfire in the forest. She could only ponder about the sister, and the hounding she would surely receive now.

"Imagine if you ever made such a statement," Alleyne said as he returned to her side. "Freyja would be driven insane."

Guinevere almost rolled her eyes, deciding to simply raise an eyebrow instead. "I would have to have been the season's Incomparable for that to happen."

"The only reason you were not was that you chose not to be," Alleyne countered.

Guinevere could argue with him, but trying to change her brother's mind was as difficult as making a pig willingly go to slaughter. The truth was that Guinevere was dull. All her suitability came from her dowry and the status of being a Duke's sister, for she was no great beauty, and could not even claim the spirit of her elder sister which so rapidly enchanted others, even if they left the encounter somewhat singed by her flames.

She could only hope to be married by the time Morgan made her debut into society, for her little sister was to be the most beautiful of all the Bedwyns, and with the personality to match.

"Who is that, after all?" Guinevere inquired, nodding ever so slightly at the girl capturing everyone's attention.

"Miss Edwina Sharma, from what I know."

"Sharma? I am not familiar." And Guinevere was proud to be aware of most families of the ton, she would never be caught dead in an interaction without knowing who was who.

Alleyne shrugged. "Gentleman's daughter, he was a landowner but left no male heirs, so after his passing, both daughters and the widow have come to London for the season." At Guinevere's raised eyebrow, Alleyne laughed. "What? I pay attention to what goes on."

"Only if it's gossip, apparently."

"Then the men at White's are guilty of gossip, even if they would be woe to call it that."

"So, both she and the sister are out this season?"

Alleyne nodded. "Yes, quite the predicament with no apparent dowry to be had, but it seems Miss Edwina Sharma is making up for that by being the paragon of a debutant."

Guinevere could not help but sympathize with both Misses Sharma, especially the elder one if what she was guessing about the situation was right. She was quite lucky she had not only a Duke for a brother, but three others as well that would always see that Guinevere or any of her sisters were not left in dire straights, needing to marry in order to not be left destitute.

"Has your interest been peaked, brother?" Guinevere asked, a smile tethering on teasing on her lips.

"I am much too young to be married, Gwen!" He exclaimed, aghast.

"You are older than me, and I was out last year."

He wrinkled his nose. "I never said I thought you were old enough to marry. Be a dear and follow Freyja's example, will you?"

Guinevere simply patted his arm, choosing to remain silent. Freyja was only married recently, at the shocking age of five and twenty, but respectfully enough since the catch was a marquess. There had been turmoil in her sister's love life before finding Joshua Moore, Marquess of Hallmere, who had the pleasant outlook in life necessary to face life with someone as spirited as Freyja. That made it so Guinevere being unwed after a whole season at the age of twenty normal enough, in truth, very expected. Her sister had set up the expectation that a duke's sister would only settle for the best, and Guinevere was fine with the idea for now.

She doubted she could secure a duke, for the eligible ones were rather scarce. Higher than that would be only a prince, and not only did Guinevere not think herself good enough for that, she could only shudder at the thought of her siblings becoming in-laws with royalty. A marquess, that might be more manageable, but all the ones in her acquaintance were either much too old or much too young. Earls and viscounts were probably what she should aim for, being a prestigious enough rank, with plenty to choose from. She could perhaps even get away with a second son, should the family be respectable enough. Barons were perhaps too low a step, but she would still consider it in the future.

Had she been more of a romantic, perhaps Guinevere might have the passing thought of simply a gentleman, or even a commoner, as her own older brother had made a match with a simple soldier's daughter.

But therein was the crux of the matter, as long as she herself made a good match, her siblings would be freer to choose.

She could not even entertain the thought that someone like Rannulf would ever give a thought to rank before choosing his bride, and there was the very real possibility that Alleyne would end up siring a bastard and have a need to get quickly married, with no thought at all to who he was marrying but the sake of the child, given his morals.

Guinevere did not mind at all the notion of a duty to marry well, especially since she was the harshest one about it. Wulfric would never give an opinion, just silently support whatever happened, as he'd done with Aidan and Freyja. He might have a cold exterior and a gaze that would make one think they were in the North Pole, but nothing could hide his heart that bleed so easily, at least to his family.

As she looked at Edwina, she was reminded very much of her little sister Morgan, even if they looked nothing alike. It was the look in her eyes, the still innocent gaze that gleamed at the suitors surrounding her, and the thought in the back of Guinevere's head that neither Edwina nor her older sister probably had many hopes about making good matches, even though they were reliant on that. And if there was one thing that Guinevere was truly good at, it was solving problems, and that was one she could aid with.

"I think I should like to meet her." Guinevere took her brother's arm again, a clear indication that they were done standing where they were.

"Who am I to deny you that, sister?" Alleyne led her to where her object of interest was, gently clearing his throat to gain the attention of their peers.

Guinevere could not help but notice that at least two of the gentlemen gathered lost hope in their eyes, glancing at Alleyne with what could only be described as a glare when he looked at Edwina.

"Miss Edwina Sharma," Alleyne greeted, making Guinevere almost turn her head toward him in shock, stopping herself just in time. Oh, how sly her brother was, talking about the girl as if he'd never met her, when in fact he seemed to be well acquainted.

"Lord Alleyne!" The radiant smile she gave was blinding, a testament to how she had managed to find herself so desired by the ton. "What a pleasure to see you again."

Alleyne smiled charmingly, nodding his head at her. "It is indeed. May I introduce my sister, Lady Guinevere Bedwyn?"

Edwina bestowed her smile onto Guinevere, and she found herself giving one back, not nearly as bright, but warm all the same.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Guinevere remarked, glancing sparingly at the others congregated around them.

"Lord Alleyne has spoken so well of you," Edwina said. "I must admit to having wanted to meet you myself from his words."

Guinevere glanced at Alleyne, finding his face a perfect mask of pleasantry. "I fear he may have raised your expectations unjustly."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Could I steal her away from you fine gentleman, I find myself in want of a turn about the room with Miss Sharma," Guinevere said, and they laced their arms together, nodding as they walked away. "My apologies for the quick getaway, I find it hard to have any meaningful conversations with too many ears listening."

Edwina shook her head. "I do not mind, I was starting to find it a bit stifling to simply stand there, so many people wanting to hear what I had to say."

"People are curious about you, Miss Sharma." Guinevere took out her fan, languidly fanning herself as they walked. "Eligible, and not so eligible bachelors in particular."

"Indeed," Edwina followed suit in Guinevere's actions, also taking out her fan. "But I am fortunate to have quite the competent guide in who to avoid and who to entertain."

Guinevere gave her a questioning glance. "Oh, you must share."

"It is not a great secret, I merely listen to my sister." Edwina lightly laughed at the stunned expression on Guinevere's face, too surprised to mask it before it showed.

"I suppose that gives light to your statement earlier this evening."

"Kate is quite a good judge of character, anyone who impressed her will surely be up to standard," Edwina explained. "Besides, she is adamant I do not marry anyone I don't like, which is already more than enough to make me trust her implicitly."

Guinevere could only be reminded of her own sister, Freyja. She was quite the believer in only marrying if you found a compatible match, for there could be no more miserable existence than to be tied to someone you could not stand.

"I think I would like her, your sister."

"Oh, then you must become acquainted!" Edwina smiled widely.

"But do tell, what is the kind of gentlemen you'd like to marry?" Guinevere inquired, the thought of perhaps matching Edwina with her brother not out of the question.

Not Alleyne, of course, for he would only be engaged in matrimony when he himself chose to or was forced to do so. But Rannulf was possibly a good match, with his mostly positive dispositions and penchants for smiles, something she could see present in Edwina as well.

Edwina looked down, the hand holding the fan and begging to fiddle with it. It seemed as if she was gathering up the courage to speak, and before Guinevere could rescind her question and apologize, Edwina gave her answer.

"A scholar," she responded, a dreamy smile on her lips.

That put Rannulf out of the running. Guinevere allowed herself a modicum of disappointment, she had quite liked the idea of Edwina as a sister-in-law.

At Guinevere's lack of response, Edwina looked at her worriedly. "That is to say, anyone who enjoys scholarly pursuits, as amateur as they are—"

"I am sure we can manage to find you one such man," Guinevere interrupted before Edwina could talk herself into a tizzy. "I find your preference quite refreshing, it speaks well of your character."

Edwina shook her head. "Oh, it is not much of a positive in concern to that, I'm merely more of a reader myself. So truly, it perhaps makes me more selfish than anything."

"On the contrary." Guinevere had hardly ever had a conversation with a young lady such as herself that had not delved into subtle — and not so subtle — inquiries about her brothers, Wulfric in particular. Guinevere found it hard to like socializing amongst her peers when half of them saw her as her dowry and the other half as the keeper of the secret to becoming Duchess Bewcastle.

Guinevere shook her head, hiding the small smile on her lips being the fan, making it privy only to Edwina's eyes. "I have already taken a liking to you, and you'll find I am very rarely wrong."

Edwina giggled, the curls of her hair bouncing as she shook her head. "I am glad to hear it, Lady Guinevere. Could we perhaps become friends, then? Since I also find myself liking you."

Guinevere managed to conceal her surprise this time around and merely nodded. "You must call me Gwen, then."

"And you must call me Edwina." With a radiant smile, Edwina gently squeezed Guinevere's arm. "My very first friend in London. How delightful."

Guinevere did not say it, but Edwina was also her very first friend in the city, discounting her sisters. And she found that she did not mind the friendship in the least.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

no benedict yet, but this will be a double POV story with the occasional extra character having one as well, so be prepared!