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thecrayonindisguise · 2 months ago

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Chapter 1: The Arrival || Bonds and Barriers

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Original Female Character

Masterpost || next >>

Summary: Caterina Medici and her twin sister Teresa arrive in London from Italy to find suitable husbands. At their first ball, both of the sisters are named the “diamonds of the season,” catching the eye of the entire ton and more...

Word Count: 10.6k

Warnings: no particular warnings, maybe a little bit of swearing

Authors Note: Hey People! This is the first fanfiction I ever wrote so please be merciful… Disclaimer: English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes. The events of this story take place after the first season and before the second season. Enjoy!

Dearest gentle readers,

As the season prepares to unfold in all its splendor, the ton eagerly anticipates the grandest of spectacles, new debutantes, and the elusive bachelors who remain unattached. The ballrooms will be adorned with the finest silks, sparkling jewels, and, naturally, whispers of gossip that travel faster than a fan flutter.

But beware, for not every diamond that sparkles in the light retains its brilliance. There are always those who shine a little too brightly at first glance, only to tarnish under the weight of society’s unforgiving gaze. And what of those who choose to remain in the shadows? Some say the most tantalizing secrets are often found in the quiet corners of the most bustling rooms.

This season promises to be one for the books, as hearts will be stolen, reputations tested, and perhaps even a scandal or two will emerge. Rest assured, I shall be there, quill in hand, to document every misstep, every whispered word, and every flutter of affection that is bound to raise an eyebrow or two.

Remember, dear readers, the ton is not always as it seems. The dance may begin with grace, but how it ends is entirely up to those bold enough to step onto the floor.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown.

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“I hope this city will be as Aunt Langstone wrote us… for now, it seems too much…” Caterina looked outside, moving slightly aside from the tiny tent of the carriage, seeing a city full of carriages, dirt, and other things that she has never seen from her beautiful and green dukedom “Polluted,” she finished, making a displeased face.

She is talking to her mother sitting in front of her and to her twin sister, Teresa, who is beside her, curiously looking from the window too, “It’s like it’s all gray, don’t you notice mama?” said Teresa looking her mother “I may believe that the cause of this is are the industries, is one of the many things that aunt wrote us during our journey to London” the mother said, now looking from the window too; “the industries…what a thing” whispered Caterina rolling her eyes and leaning boringly on the seat.

The Medici carriage pulled up in front of the grand Langstone villa in Mayfair, its wheels crunching over the gravel driveway as the horses slowed to a halt. The stately manor rose proudly before them, its stone façade softened by ivy climbing up the walls, giving it an air of distinguished charm. Inside, soft candlelight flickered from the windows, and the doors were flung open in anticipation of the long-awaited guests.

Inside the carriage, Duchess Marie Medici, formerly Marie Aguillon, sat primly, adjusting the lace cuffs of her traveling dress. Her daughters, Caterina and Teresa, glanced out of the window, while Teresa fidgeted with her gloves in excitement, Caterina, however, remained quiet, her skepticism toward the entire endeavor of this London season cloaked in her usual reserve.

The prospect of finding a husband seemed more like a necessity than a romantic adventure. This was her first true taste of London society, but for their mother, this visit held much deeper significance.

"We're here, ladies," Duchess Marie said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

The footmen rushed to the carriage, assisting the ladies as they stepped down. As they did, the grand doors of the villa swung open and out came Rose-Marie Bechard, now Langstone, her arms wide open in welcome. The years had been kind to her, though a touch of gray streaked her hair. Her face lit up with joy as she caught sight of her cousin.

“Marie!” Rose-Marie’s voice was warm, trembling with excitement. “I can hardly believe it! After all these years!”

Marie barely had time to respond before Rose-Marie enveloped her in a tight embrace. "Oh, Rose-Marie, it’s been far too long," Marie said, her voice wavering. The two women clung to each other as though trying to bridge the years of distance in that one embrace.

When they finally stepped back, both had tears in their eyes. “Look at you,” Rose-Marie said, her hands resting on Marie’s arms, “just as beautiful as ever. And these are your daughters, oh, how I’ve waited to meet them.”

“Teresa, Caterina,” Marie gestured to her daughters, who stepped forward gracefully, each giving a polite curtsy. “This is my cousin, Rose-Marie Langstone, whom I’ve spoken of many times.”

Caterina, always the more reserved of the two, smiled demurely, while Teresa’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Langstone,” Teresa said.

“We have heard so many lovely things about you,” added Caterina, her tone warm and engaging.

Rose-Marie laughed softly, her heart full of affection for the girls. "Please, call me Rose-Marie, and you two are even more beautiful than I imagined. My goodness, you must be the talk of the town already. How exciting.”

Just then, Rose-Marie’s husband, Earl Richard Langstone, appeared in the doorway, flanked by their son, David, and daughters Olympia and Cyntia. Richard was a tall, solid man with kind eyes, while David had the sharp, poised look of a man already prepared to take on the responsibilities of his future title. Olympia, a year older than the Medici twins, looked elegant and self-assured, while Cyntia, debuting this season, was bubbling with anticipation.

“Welcome, Duchess,” Richard said with a bow. “It’s a pleasure to finally host you and your lovely daughters.”

“The pleasure is all ours, my lord,” Marie replied graciously. “Your home is as beautiful as the family you’ve raised.”

“Oh, don’t flatter him too much, Marie,” Rose-Marie teased, looping her arm through her cousin. “Come, let’s get you all settled inside.”

As they entered the grand hallway, decorated with portraits and fine furnishings, the Medici women were warmly introduced to the Langstone children. Cyntia was particularly eager, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she greeted the twins. “I cannot wait to spend time with you both this season,” she said, practically bouncing on her toes. “It will be such fun!”

“I’m sure it will,” Caterina said with a polite smile, while Teresa, always a bit more adventurous, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “I think we shall be quite the trio, Cyntia.”

The teasing remark made Cyntia giggle, and even Olympia, who had initially seemed more reserved, cracked a smile. “Yes, indeed,” she said.

Once they were settled into their guest rooms, the Medici women were invited to join the Langstones for a splendid dinner in the grand dining room. The table was laden with the finest dishes, prepared in honor of their arrival. The soft glow of chandeliers bathed the room in a warm, inviting light as everyone took their seats.

Throughout the dinner, the conversation flowed easily between the families. Talk of the upcoming season dominated the discussion, with the Langstone daughters expressing their excitement for the events ahead.

“Cyntia is quite eager for her debut,” Rose-Marie said, smiling fondly at her youngest daughter. “And Olympia will be your guide, I’m sure. She’s already made quite a name for herself.”

Olympia smiled modestly. “I shall do my best, Mother.”

Teresa and Caterina exchanged glances, each thinking of the season ahead, and all the possibilities it held. “I imagine the season will be… quite eventful,” Teresa said, choosing her words carefully. “London society seems very different from what we are used to.”

“Oh, it is,” Olympia assured them, “but you’ll find your footing quickly. The key is to keep your head up and stay true to yourself.”

Caterina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “And what of the gentlemen, Olympia? Is there any advice you can offer on that matter?”

Olympia hesitated, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade as she met Caterina's piercing gaze. She fiddled with the lace trim of her sleeve before finally speaking, her voice a touch quieter than usual.

“Well,” Olympia began, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, “the gentlemen here are… a mix. Some are quite charming, but many are far more interested in appearances than in substance. The key is to smile and nod, but never reveal too much of yourself too soon.”

She paused, then added, “But if you’re looking for a match that’s more than just surface, someone who truly sees you, well… that can be harder to find. You might have to look beyond the usual balls and tea parties.”

Caterina narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued. “And how does one find such a gentleman?”

Olympia’s blush deepened, her fingers still nervously fidgeting with her gown. “I suppose… you look for the ones who aren’t always in the spotlight, who seem more interested in conversation than in dancing. They exist, but they don’t always make themselves known right away. Sometimes, it’s the quiet ones who surprise you.”

Her words lingered in the air, and Caterina nodded thoughtfully, though her skepticism remained. "Interesting… though I’m not sure I believe in surprises anymore," Caterina mused softly.

Olympia, sensing her cousin's reluctance, simply smiled. “Perhaps you’ll find one when you least expect it.”

As the evening drew to a close, the Medici women retired to their rooms, their hearts and minds buzzing with the excitement of the days to come.

─────────

The Medici family carriage rattled through the quiet streets of Mayfair, the early morning sun casting a soft glow on the rows of elegant townhouses. Inside, Caterina and Teresa sat, their faces painted with varying degrees of displeasure. Teresa, who could barely hide her thoughts, sighed dramatically, her voice full of complaint.

“I don’t understand, Mama,” Teresa began, glancing at her mother with wide, incredulous eyes. “Why are we here for more dresses when we already brought thousands from home? Three bags each, at least!”

Caterina, sitting beside her sister, nodded in agreement. “I must side with Tess on this, Mama. It’s the dawn, and I doubt the shop is even open. It looks like London doesn’t rise as early as we do.” Her voice was cool, matching the disinterest she felt for yet another gown-fitting. She had grown accustomed to luxury and yet, despite the endless opulence, it left her unsatisfied.

Lady Medici, regal as ever, led the way, her stride purposeful as she addressed her daughters without looking back. “Ladies, I don’t want to hear any more complaints. We must acquire new dresses not only for your first ball but for all the others in the season.” She turned slightly, lowering her voice as they passed a mother and daughter walking arm-in-arm. “We need to adjust to British designs, even if they are…out of touch.”

Teresa giggled behind her gloved hand, and even Caterina couldn’t suppress a small smirk at their mother’s biting remark. Lady Medici was always sharp in her observations of fashion and propriety. But before either of the twins could speak again, Lady Medici stopped just outside the shop, turning to face them, her expression stern.

“What have I always said about mornings?” she asked.

The twins, familiar with this routine, rolled their eyes and recited in unison, “ La mattinata fa la giornata .” [The morning makes the day] Their voices carried the rhythm of their native Italian. Lady Medici nodded approvingly. “Good,” she said, a small, triumphant smile on her lips as she ushered them inside.

The shop was quiet, too quiet. When they stepped inside, the bell at the door barely made a sound, and the absence of bustling attendants suggested they were indeed the day’s first customers. The mannequins stood draped in gowns of fine silk and satin, the air thick with the scent of fabric and perfume.

“Hello?” Lady Medici called out, her voice echoing slightly in the stillness. A few moments passed before the sound of hurried footsteps could be heard from upstairs, followed by the rustle of skirts. After what felt like an eternity to the impatient twins, a woman appeared, her hair slightly disheveled, her makeup incomplete, but her dress impeccably styled.

“Good morning, ladies,” the woman greeted, her thick French accent unmistakable. She flashed a broad smile, though the surprise in her eyes was evident. “I didn’t expect any clients this early.” Her gaze flickered over the unfamiliar faces. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re here for a consultation,” Lady Medici began, her voice authoritative but polite. “Madame…?”

“Delacroix,” the woman introduced herself, inclining her head slightly.

“Madame Delacroix,” Lady Medici repeated, her French flawless. “We’ve traveled a long way—”

“Italie,” Delacroix interrupted with a smile, her eyes glittering as she assessed the elaborate gowns the twins wore. “I can recognize the work of your homeland, such a unique hand”.

Lady Medici’s chest swelled with pride. “Indeed. And these are my daughters, Teresa and Caterina Medici. They are to debut this season, and we require someone familiar with British designs for their gowns.”

“Je suis honorée, madame,” Delacroix said, bowing lightly before gesturing toward Teresa. “Shall we begin with measurements?”

As Teresa stepped forward, eager for her turn, Caterina lingered behind, her gaze wandering across the shop. The textures and fabrics displayed failed to impress her, especially in comparison to the luxurious Italian silks she was accustomed to.

“I don’t see any Italian fabrics,” Caterina noted, her voice laced with mild annoyance as she ran her gloved hand over a particularly underwhelming bolt of cloth. “Why is that?”

Delacroix’s smile faltered slightly, a hint of discomfort appearing in her expression. “Mademoiselle, I am afraid Italian fabrics are very difficile to acquire at the moment. They are highly sought after, and the price has increased dramatically.”

“I see,” Caterina responded, her tone cold, as though the modiste’s explanation wasn’t satisfactory. She turned away, moving deeper into the shop, still lost in her assessment of the uninspiring fabrics. Her curiosity led her to a quieter corner of the store, away from the others.

As she absentmindedly ran her hand over a silk cloth, she removed her glove, needing to feel the texture properly. But just as she was about to return to the front of the shop, she turned abruptly straight into someone. The collision was sudden, sending a mess of clothes and her glove tumbling to the floor.

Caterina gasped, the sudden impact knocking her slightly off balance. When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat. Standing before her, clearly flustered, was a man holding an armful of clothes.

Benedict Bridgerton.

The disheveled artist and second son of the Bridgerton family stood frozen in place, his arms full of half-dressed garments, his usual charm nowhere to be found. He had promised himself, the night before, for the umpteenth time, that he would return home before dawn, to avoid misunderstandings that could have caused some scandal but neither this time had he succeeded. So he reduced himself to sneaking up from Madame Delacroix’s shop in broad daylight… with customers!

For a moment, neither of them moved. Caterina’s eyes swept over him, taking in his rumpled appearance, while Benedict found himself mesmerized by the woman before him. Her beauty, her poise, she was unlike any lady he had ever seen, and certainly not someone he expected to bump into at this hour.

“Caterina? Where are you, my dear?” a voice called from the front of the shop, breaking the tense silence.

Caterina glanced toward the source of the voice and then back at Benedict. Without a word, she bent down and swiftly snatched her glove from the pile of fallen clothes, her fingers brushing against Benedict’s hand for the briefest of moments. The touch sent a jolt through him, and he froze again, his heart skipping a beat.

“You should go,” she said firmly, her voice quiet but commanding. Her eyes locked with his, a hint of amusement flickering in them as she tilted her head toward the door.

Benedict, still struggling to regain his composure, nodded quickly. He bowed slightly, his face flushing with embarrassment, before hurrying toward the door, his exit as clumsy as their collision had been.

As the door closed behind him, Caterina straightened her gown and returned her attention to the fabrics. She found herself wondering why it had taken him so long to leave, perhaps he was slow, or simply clumsy, but whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. She had more important things to focus on, like the unimpressive selection of materials in front of her.

─────────

2 days later

The excitement buzzed around the room as the Langstone sisters continued their chatter about the upcoming ball. Cynthia, the youngest, was particularly animated, her face glowing with enthusiasm as she spoke. “Believe me, you will surely enjoy the ball tonight. Lady Danbury is known to host the most splendid and fabulous event of the entire season!”

Teresa, already caught up in the atmosphere, could hardly contain her own excitement. “I heard the Queen will be attending. Is that true?” she asked eagerly while one of the maids carefully adjusted her gown.

Cynthia nodded with a wide grin. “It is indeed! But what makes it even more thrilling is that the Queen hasn’t chosen the Diamond of the Season yet!”

The twins exchanged a confused glance, both frowning slightly at this unfamiliar term. Teresa tilted her head. “The diamond? You mean the mineral?”

Olympia, the older and more experienced sister, let out a soft laugh. “Oh no, not a literal diamond! Every season, the Queen selects one favored young lady, granting her the title of ‘Diamond of the Season.’ It’s the highest honor, essentially making her the most eligible lady of the marriage market.”

Caterina, sitting a bit farther away, scoffed under her breath. “Marriage market, what a concept.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as her maid twisted the last curl into place. The idea of being paraded around and chosen like some prized possession made her skin crawl. She had no desire to become the center of attention.

Cynthia continued, oblivious to Caterina’s inner disdain. “From that moment on, every gentleman seeking a wife will be vying for her attention. Imagine being the queen’s chosen!”

Teresa, unable to resist teasing her sister, glanced at Caterina with a mischievous smile. “That sounds exactly like something Kitty would love!” she mocked lightly, knowing all too well how uncomfortable her sister would feel being thrust into the spotlight.

Caterina rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling at the playful jibe. The other girls giggled, their laughter filling the room with warmth as they continued preparing for the evening.

As the Langstone sisters began to recount the scandals of last season, particularly the juiciest gossip, the stories were abruptly cut off by a knock at the door. A maid entered, curtseying before announcing, “Your mothers are ready, my ladies. The carriages await.”

The girls quickly gathered their things, a flurry of excitement filling the air once more. Outside, two elegant carriages awaited them, their lacquered surfaces gleaming in the fading light of the afternoon. The Medici ladies would ride in one, while Lady Langstone and her daughters took the other.

─────────

As they settled into their seats, Teresa leaned toward her mother, bubbling with the gossip she had just heard. “Mama, did you know about the diamond title and the Queen’s blessing?” she asked, her voice filled with awe as she recounted all that Cynthia and Olympia had shared.

Lady Medici smiled, her eyes bright with amusement and something else, pride. “Ah, I had nearly forgotten to mention it. There’s a reason why our arrival has caused such a stir,” she said, tapping her hands lightly on her lap. “Word about us has spread quicker than I expected. The Queen is quite curious to meet you both. Upon our arrival, they will announce us formally.” Her voice was filled with excitement, and she looked at her daughters, her smile widening.

Teresa’s eyes widened with wonder. “The Queen herself wants to greet us? Is that… a good thing, Mama?” she asked, unsure whether to feel excited or nervous.

Lady Medici beamed. “Of course, my darling, it’s a wonderful thing! The Queen doesn’t take notice of just anyone. Our family’s reputation precedes us, and this will ensure your introduction to society is nothing short of spectacular. You must understand, that being acknowledged by the Queen places you in a very advantageous position.”

As Lady Medici spoke, Caterina continued staring out the window, her fingers absently playing with the fur draped over her shoulders. Despite the assurances from her mother, Caterina felt uneasy. The thought of being presented to the Queen, of having all eyes on her, only heightened her anxiety. She longed for the warmth of Italy, for the familiarity of home, far away from the chilly, polished world of the British aristocracy.

─────────

The carriage rocked gently as they rode through the bustling streets of Mayfair. She watched the cobbled streets pass by, her mind filled with uncertainty. What if all this attention, this grand entrance into London’s elite, only led her further away from the security she sought? After all, she was here to find stability, not to make herself the talk of the ton.

Teresa’s voice broke through her thoughts as she whispered excitedly to Caterina, “Imagine, Kitty. The Queen, the diamonds, the gentlemen. All of it is just beginning!”

Caterina sighed, offering her sister a faint smile. “Yes, it’s all beginning,” she echoed, but her tone was far more cautious. For Caterina, this debut season was less about the glittering possibilities of romance and more about survival. She had come to London with a purpose, and she couldn’t allow herself to be swept away by fantasies of courtship or the title of “Diamond of the Season.” Too much was at stake.

Still, as they neared the grand estate where Lady Danbury’s ball would take place, Caterina couldn’t shake the gnawing sense that tonight would be different.

As the Medici family carriage came to a halt, Lady Medici, signaled a footman to announce their arrival. Before stepping down, she paused, gathering her daughters’ hands in her own. Her gaze softened as she looked warmly into their eyes, speaking with the gravitas of a mother whose daughters stood on the precipice of something great.

"I don’t need to tell you what to say or what to do tonight," Lady Medici began, her voice steady, "you already know everything." Her expression brightened, eyes glistening. "I am so happy and proud of you both. Our life is about to start a new chapter tonight." Her voice trembled ever so slightly with emotion before she pulled them into a tender embrace.

With a deep breath and a poised smile, she turned to face the grand doors of the ball.

Indeed, as she had just said, a new chapter was about to begin for Caterina and Teresa Medici, and perhaps for the entire ton.

The grand double doors swung open, and the entrance hall echoed with the ceremonial thump of footmen’s sticks hitting the marble floor, a sound that commanded instant attention.

Conversation dwindled to murmurs, all eyes turning to the entrance as an announcement rang out, authoritative and grand:

"Please welcome the Dowager Duchess of Lucca, Marie Medici, and her daughters, Miss Teresa Medici and Miss Caterina Medici."

The trio entered with grace, their figures bathed in the soft glow of the ballroom’s chandeliers. They moved almost in slow motion, their elaborate gowns shimmering under the light as they made their way toward the Queen. All eyes were fixed on them, but that did not stop the whispers from starting, subtle yet sharp.

"Duchess of where?"

"Lucca? Italy, I heard."

"They came all the way from Italy for what, exactly?"

"Look at the number of jewels they’re wearing."

"Surely those must be worth more than the Queen’s crown jewels!"

"And what is that on their shoulders—fur?"

"Fur? How audacious…"

As the chatter filled the room, the three women reached the Queen and dropped into a deep, practiced bow. When they rose, they spoke in unison, their voices blending as they greeted the monarch.

"Your Majesty."

The Queen’s eyes gleamed with genuine curiosity, a rare reaction in the face of so many debutantes. "Duchess," she began, her tone intrigued, "what an unexpected honor to have you here in my court. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Lady Medici smiled graciously, standing tall and regal. "Your Majesty, I have come from Italy with the intent of finding suitable husbands for my daughters."

The Queen’s eyebrow arched with interest. "Husbands? And were there no suitable bachelors in Italy?"

"Indeed there were," Lady Medici replied with a flattering smile, "but word of your lavish season has reached even our shores. We’ve always admired it and desired to experience this remarkable opportunity."

The Queen seemed to weigh her response before stepping down from her throne, her regal demeanor softening slightly as she studied the Medici sisters more closely. "Well," she declared with a hint of approval, "in that regard, I am thrilled to welcome your daughters into this season. They are exquisitely pretty, Duchess."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Lady Medici beamed, her hand resting on Caterina and Teresa’s shoulders. "They are my greatest joy, my twin daughters."

The Queen’s eyes widened with new fascination. "Twins, you say?" she repeated, her curiosity deepening. "That certainly enhances their… rarity."

Caterina’s brow furrowed slightly, a faint unease prickling at her instincts. She could sense that the Queen’s compliment carried layers of expectation.

Raising her voice to command the attention of the room, the Queen addressed the ton. "It is now my honor," she said, her tone carrying a note of grandeur, "to present to you this season’s Diamond, or should I say Diamonds. Miss Teresa Medici and Miss Caterina Medici!"

A wave of applause erupted through the ballroom, the rare occurrence of two Diamonds causing a stir of excitement. The clapping from the Langstone family, who had been eagerly awaiting this moment, was the loudest of all, brimming with pride.

But amid the sea of applause, Caterina’s mind spun, the weight of the Queen’s pronouncement settling over her. Her smile stiffened as a single thought echoed in her mind: Oh, fuck.

─────────

As the applause filled the room, Benedict Bridgerton's mind was elsewhere.

The name that had just been announced “Caterina Medici, daughter of a duchess from Italy” rang in his ears. That was the identity of the mysterious woman he had seen two days earlier when he had sneaked out of the Modiste.

The same woman who had unknowingly captured his attention and thoughts…

His heart raced as he stared at her from across the ballroom. The elegant figure in the sparkling gown, her hair gleaming under the chandeliers, was none other than the stranger he’d spent days thinking about. But now she wasn’t just a fleeting encounter. She was real, she had a name, and she was standing in front of him in all her beauty.

"Your mouth is leaking, brother," Colin teased, breaking Benedict from his reverie. His younger brother stood beside him, arms crossed, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Wha-what?" Benedict stammered, finally tearing his gaze away from Caterina to glance at Colin, who was now laughing openly.

"I said, your mouth is leaking," Colin repeated, his voice full of amusement. "You’ve been staring at her for quite some time."

Benedict blinked, attempting to regain his composure. "I-I saw her at the Modiste," he said, a little too quickly, as though that explained everything.

"The Modiste?" Colin raised an eyebrow, clearly exasperated. "Again, brother? You’re really becoming predictable."

"Nothing relevant happened," Benedict muttered, but his eyes drifted back to Caterina, who was now engaged in conversation with the Queen. She seemed even more captivating tonight than he remembered, her beauty enhanced by the graceful way she held herself.

"God, she’s even more beautiful tonight," Benedict whispered to himself, unable to suppress the longing in his voice.

Colin’s smirk widened. "Are you already falling for her, brother?" he asked, leaning closer, his tone laced with teasing.

"I don’t know, Colin," Benedict replied, still mesmerized. "But she is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. I need to talk to her."

Colin chuckled, shaking his head. "Be careful, brother. You sound like a lovesick fool."

At that moment, the applause grew louder as the Queen made her pronouncement, officially introducing the Medici sisters as the Diamonds of the season. The room hummed with excitement, and Colin moved even closer to Benedict.

"You’re going to have a lot of contenders to deal with, brother," He whispered in his ear, his eyes gleaming with amusement, and then clapped Benedict on the shoulder. "Good luck, Ben. You’ll need it."

─────────

“oh that was unexpected…” sighed Lady Medici regarding the diamond announcement.

“what is this thing?” asked annoyed Caterina not even listening to her mother but just looking at her dance card hanging from her wrist.

After the announcement some valets just gave them and the ball continued to go… this was just a short moment before the assail of the ladies by the men of the ton.

“They call it ‘dance card’, is where the gentlemen write their names to reserve you a dance with you or something similar, Cynthia told me, she showed me hers this morning from a previous ball” explained Teresa next to the sister who made a disgusted sound “what an absurdity,” she said before taking it off and throw it in the fireplace next to them.

“Caterina!” recalled her mother “What did you just do! I hope that you were not seen” Lady Medici continued saying, looking around but she just interrupted herself because she saw a multitude of bachelors moving towards them, she widened her eyes scared.

“I throw it in the fire Mother, I am perfectly capable of remembering every man’s name who will dance with me tonight and I don’t need to be reserved, as an object of -” Caterina clarified more than annoyed but she didn’t have the time to finished because her sister took her hand and squeezing fiercely, that acts made her look up to the crowd that was approaching them “oh mamma mia” Caterina whispered before she and her sister were surrounded by all those men, asking them eagerly a dance.

─────────

The ball had reached its crescendo, the music was lively, the laughter contagious, and the whispers were flying faster than the swirling couples on the dance floor. But for Caterina Medici, the night was proving to be a delicate balancing act. Ever since the Queen had declared her and her sister, the diamonds of the season, she had barely had a moment to breathe. Gentleman after gentleman had approached her, each vying for her hand in the next dance, each seemingly more pompous or desperate than the last.

Caterina was no stranger to attention, but this… this was overwhelming. A cascade of flattery, offers of refreshments, compliments on her gown, all of it seemingly designed to entrap her in endless conversations. It didn’t help that Teresa, ever the calm and composed one, handled the pressure with that grace, making Caterina feel just a bit more like an imposter.

So, in a moment of impulsive decision, she had decided to slip away for a breath of air, weaving through the bustling crowd in search of solitude.

So she tried to find a retreat, away from all those pompous people, and a drink…especially a drink. what a species the British, she thought while trying to avoid everyone while walking very close to the wall.

Finally, she spotted a small, tucked-away area near the refreshment tables. It was nearly hidden from view, a small respite from the chaos of the ballroom. Her eyes were drawn to a petite woman in an eye-catching bright yellow dress with striking red hair standing by the food. Caterina let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and whispered to herself, "A time of peace."

She reached for a small, almond-shaped treat that looked like an amaretto, one of her favorite Italian delicacies. But the moment she bit into it, her face contorted in disgust. It was far too sweet and lacked the rich, familiar taste of home. With a grimace, she quickly took it out of her mouth and discreetly tossed it behind her, trying to recover her composure.

Suddenly, the woman in the bright yellow dress spoke, causing Caterina to jump. “Oh! Lady Medici, what a pleasure! I didn’t see you here.”

Startled, Caterina gasped and turned quickly, trying to mask her embarrassment. “Oh, please, don’t,” she said with a gracious smile, gesturing for the woman not to bow. “There is no need for such formalities, Miss…?”

“Featherington, my lady. Penelope Featherington,” the young woman answered shyly, her cheeks tinged pink.

Caterina’s smile widened. “Penelope, what a beautiful name! A pleasure indeed.”

Penelope blushed deeper, looking down at her hands as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “Oh, thank you, though I’ve never been particularly fond of it,” she admitted softly.

Caterina frowned slightly, genuinely puzzled. “Why not? Penelope is a wonderful name, the same as Odysseus' wife and Queen of Ithaca. You should be proud of it.”

Penelope looked up, her blush deepening at the unexpected compliment. The weight of her insecurities felt lighter under Caterina's warm encouragement. For a moment, she didn’t know how to respond, so Caterina, sensing the young lady’s shyness, shifted the conversation.

“May I ask you something, Miss Featherington?” Caterina began, her tone was casual but curious.

“Of course,” Penelope replied, eager to continue the conversation.

“The courtship here,” Caterina said, gesturing vaguely to the ballroom filled with dancing couples, “is it truly like this?”

Penelope looked confused for a moment. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Caterina sighed softly and elaborated. “I mean, is the entire season going to be filled with endless dancing and conversations with gentlemen until I finally find one ‘suitable’? Is that how it works?”

Penelope couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, not necessarily. You don’t have to dance with everyone if you’ve already found ‘the one.’”

Caterina snorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “The one. Yes, of course,” she said, almost irritated by the idea.

Penelope, sensing Caterina's disillusionment, hesitated before asking, “Have you met anyone pleasing so far?”

Caterina chuckled dryly. “Next question?”

Penelope let out a small, nervous laugh, but before she could say anything else, Caterina continued, “No, I’m afraid not. The gentlemen I’ve danced with tonight have been mind-numbingly dull.”

Penelope’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I can believe that. Some of them can be quite uninteresting. But I imagine in Italy the men must be quite different, or am I wrong?”

Caterina laughed genuinely this time. “Regrettably, no. Men are the same no matter where you go. The only difference is how the courtship is handled.”

Penelope tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Really? How so?”

“In Italy, it’s usually the parents who arrange the matches, often years before you even meet the person,” Caterina explained. “It’s all for political or financial interests, of course. Rarely does one find their partner at a ball like this.”

“And did you have such a pairing, Lady Medici?” Penelope asked, her voice soft with curiosity.

Caterina chuckled again, shifting her gaze to the dance floor. “Not exactly. All my cousins were already betrothed. That’s part of the reason my sister and I came here.” She paused for a moment, noticing the shock on Penelope's face. “I’m joking, Miss Featherington,” she reassured her with a smile. “we came here because wanted to change air, if we want to put it this way. almost forced I might add.”

Penelope, intrigued by this candid new diamond, was about to ask more when Caterina suddenly turned toward a footman carrying a tray of champagne. “Excuse me!” she called out, waving her hand dramatically. “ Grazie a Dio! ” [thank God]

The footman approached, and before Penelope could register what was happening, Caterina began downing glass after glass of champagne in rapid succession. Penelope and the footman exchanged wide-eyed looks of disbelief.

“You are my salvation,” Caterina said to the footman after finishing the last glass, waving him off dismissively.

“My lady,” Penelope said, half-chuckling as she regained her composure. “Are you sure that much champagne won’t make you ill?”

Caterina waved her off with a laugh. “Don’t be troubled. I am Italian. I’ve been drinking since the age of five.”

Despite her shock, Penelope couldn't help but laugh, charmed by Caterina’s nonchalance. The two continued their conversation easily, with Caterina asking Penelope about English customs, the intricacies of the season, and the latest gossip. Penelope, flattered by the attention and delighted to have someone to speak with so openly, felt a kinship forming. Caterina, in turn, found herself genuinely enjoying Penelope’s company.

Their laughter filled the small corner of the room until Penelope suddenly spotted someone rushing toward them, her dear friend Eloise Bridgerton.

“Oh, Pen, there you are!” Eloise exclaimed, nearly breathless as she reached them, clearly oblivious to Caterina’s presence at first. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Why don’t we sneak away before our mamas—”

Eloise froze mid-sentence when she finally noticed the regal woman standing beside Penelope, a glass of champagne in hand. She laughed awkwardly, smoothing her dress. “Oh.”

“Miss Medici,” whispered Penelope softly, nudging Eloise.

Eloise’s eyes widened in realization. “Miss Medici,” she stammered, offering a polite but slightly awkward bow.

Caterina chuckled, amused by Eloise’s discomfort. “Miss Bridgerton, the pleasure is mine,” she said, returning the bow. She then turned to Eloise with a knowing smile. “I must say, I completely agree with your idea to leave this ball early. It’s becoming quite unbearable.”

Eloise laughed awkwardly again, still slightly taken aback by Caterina’s frankness.

“But,” Caterina added, glancing toward the dance floor, “I believe I should go find my sister… or perhaps rescue her, considering what Miss Featherington just told me about the gentleman she’s dancing with.”

With a gracious smile, Caterina nodded to both women. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Featherington. Miss Bridgerton.” Then, with a graceful turn, she made her way back toward the crowd, leaving Eloise and Penelope standing in stunned silence.

─────────

But she hadn’t gotten very far.

As she tried to make her way to the far side of the ballroom, a voice interrupted her rescue.

"Running away already, Miss Medici?" The voice was low, teasing, and unmistakably British.

Caterina turned, her heart skipping a beat as she found herself face-to-face with the very man she had spotted at the Modiste’s a few days prior, the man she had wondered about since then.

Benedict Bridgerton.

For a moment, Caterina was speechless. He was striking, standing tall with a confident, yet mischievous look in his eyes that only seemed to grow sharper when he saw her surprise. His dark hair, his sharp jawline, it was all exactly as she remembered. And now here he was, teasing her as if they were already acquainted.

"You," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Are you always this persistent or am I simply a special case? Mr.?” “Benedict Bridgerton,” he said bowing in front of her, still with his mischievous grin, and then he chuckled, clearly amused by her quick wit. "I would argue that I’m only persistent when I see a lady in need of rescue. And judging by how many gentlemen were chasing after you, I think it's safe to say you were in need of one."

Caterina tilted her head slightly, studying him with a raised brow. "Ah, so you’re rescuing me now? How noble of you."

"I do try," he said with a wink. "Though truth be told, I’m also saving myself from my mother’s scorn if I don’t dance at least once tonight. And who better to dance with than the diamond of the season?"

Caterina couldn’t help but laugh, a real one, unrestrained and bright, and it drew a few glances from the nearby guests. "So it’s your mother who forced you into this? I see I’m just an escape for you as well then."

Benedict feigned shock, placing a hand over his chest. "You wound me, Miss Medici. I assure you, no force was involved. Just a very strong suggestion."

The banter between them was easy, and Caterina was intrigued. He wasn’t like the other gentlemen who had approached her tonight, there was no overly polite stiffness, no rehearsed lines about her beauty or her grace. Instead, there was humor, lightness, and a glint of something in his eyes that made her feel as if he was speaking to her, not her title or her reputation.

"And what makes you think I’ll accept your offer?" Caterina teased, though the smile playing on her lips betrayed her amusement.

"Because," Benedict said, stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly, "you’re curious about me. Just as I am about you."

Her heart skipped a beat again. He wasn’t wrong. There was something about him that made her curious. The way he carried himself with ease, the way he spoke to her as though they were equals. And of course, she couldn’t ignore that he had seen her at the Modiste—a moment she had hoped no one would notice. But clearly, he had.

"Very well, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, offering her hand with a smirk. "You’ve earned yourself a dance. Let’s see if you can keep up."

He grinned, taking her hand in his, and led her to the center of the ballroom. The orchestra began a new piece, a waltz, delicate and sweeping, and as they took their positions, Benedict leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"I must admit," he said, "when I saw you at the Modiste’s, I wasn’t expecting to meet you like this."

Caterina raised an eyebrow, amused. "And what were you expecting? A quieter introduction, perhaps? Less of an audience?"

"Maybe," he said with a grin. "Or perhaps a little less running away on your part."

She laughed again, unable to resist the humor in his voice. "Well, you caught me. But now you’re stuck with me for the rest of the dance. I hope you don’t regret your decision."

"Never," he said, and they began to move, effortlessly gliding across the floor in perfect time to the music.

For a few moments, they danced in silence, but it wasn’t the awkward kind of quiet that often accompanied first dances. It was…comfortable as if the rhythm of the waltz spoke for them. Caterina could feel the strength in Benedict’s hold, the way he confidently guided her through each step, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You dance well, Mr. Bridgerton," Caterina remarked, her tone playful but genuine.

"I should hope so," he replied. "Though I must admit, I’m finding it difficult to focus."

"Oh? And why is that?"

Benedict met her gaze, his expression softening. "Because you, Miss Medici, are quite… distracting."

Caterina felt a warmth rise in her cheeks, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, a teasing smile on her lips. "Is that so? I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an excuse."

"Both," Benedict said, his voice low, making her heart skip once more. "But in all seriousness, I’m glad I found you tonight."

"You say that now," Caterina replied, her tone light, though she couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement his words stirred within her. "Let’s see if you still feel that way by the end of the season."

He laughed softly. "I have a feeling I will."

They continued to move together, their steps in sync, but the connection between them went beyond the dance. For Caterina, it was strange how easy it felt to talk to him, to joke with him. She was always on her guard with the men of the ton, always aware of what they might want from her, always careful not to let her walls down. But with Benedict, there was something different.

As the music drew to a close, Benedict twirled her one final time before they came to a stop, their hands still clasped. The applause from the crowd barely registered in Caterina’s mind as she looked up at him, slightly breathless.

"Thank you for the dance," she said softly, her eyes locking with his.

"The pleasure was all mine," Benedict replied, his voice just as quiet, but his gaze held something deeper, something that made Caterina wonder what might happen next.

For the first time that night, she wasn’t thinking about escaping the attention of the gentlemen or the pressures of the season. For the first time, she was simply enjoying the moment. And though she didn’t yet know what it meant, she couldn’t deny that Benedict Bridgerton had made quite the impression on her.

As they parted, Benedict offered her a slight bow, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Until next time, Mr. Bridgerton," she said, and then he watched her walk away.

─────────

As the waltz came to an end, Caterina felt a sense of relief, but also a certain thrill she hadn’t expected. Dancing with Benedict Bridgerton had been more enjoyable than she anticipated. His humor and ease had made her forget if only for a moment, the heavy weight of being named a diamond of the season. As they bowed and parted ways, her eyes naturally drifted toward her sister Teresa, who was currently locked in conversation with yet another hopeful gentleman. And then she remembered her previous mission so a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Let me save her," she muttered to herself, weaving through the crowd toward Teresa.

When she reached her sister, Caterina gently placed a hand on her arm. "Forgive me, but I must steal my sister away for just a moment," she said with an apologetic smile to the gentleman, who quickly bowed and backed away, sensing the dismissal.

"Thank you," Teresa whispered, her voice tinged with gratitude. "I thought he’d never stop talking."

Caterina grinned. "If you want, I can rescue you again later. But for now, I think we’ve earned a break."

They barely had time to exchange more than a glance before their mother, Lady Medici, appeared beside them, her usual regal air intact. But she wasn’t alone. Standing proudly next to her was a woman the twins had only heard about through whispers and fleeting mentions, Lady Danbury.

"Ladies," Lady Medici said, her tone both formal and excited, "I would like to introduce you to Lady Danbury. She was curious to meet the season’s diamonds. After all, she’s the one who hosted this splendid ball."

Both Caterina and Teresa quickly straightened their posture, casting each other a brief glance before bowing deeply in unison. "Lady Danbury," they greeted her together, their voices respectful, though their eyes flickered with curiosity.

Lady Danbury, dressed in her signature bold attire, eyed the twins with an intensity that immediately made Caterina feel as though she were being sized up, measured, and calculated all at once. The older woman’s expression was inscrutable, but there was a certain sharpness in her gaze that Caterina felt that Lady Danbury was not someone to be taken lightly.

"What a marvelous ball you’ve hosted, my lady," Caterina said, breaking the silence and speaking in her most formal tone, trying to suppress the nerves bubbling in her chest.

"Yes, Lady Danbury," Teresa chimed in. "I can barely stop myself from dancing. The company you've invited is exceptional."

Lady Danbury chuckled, a dry but amused sound, and took a step closer to the twins. Her sharp eyes moved between them, assessing their every detail, their gowns, their posture, their expressions. Caterina and Teresa exchanged a quick glance, both feeling the weight of the woman’s scrutiny.

"So," Lady Danbury began, her voice low but clear, "here are the unknown ladies who have so suddenly become the diamonds of the season… I assure you, from tonight onward, you will have the entire ton buzzing around you like bees to honey. Be very aware of what you say and do from now on."

Caterina’s heart quickened at the words, though her face remained poised. The implications of being diamonds were not lost on her, but hearing it from Lady Danbury only reinforced the pressure. She resisted the urge to glance at Teresa, knowing her sister was likely feeling the same unease.

Lady Medici chuckled softly, though Caterina detected a hint of awkwardness in her mother’s laughter. "My daughters are well aware of the responsibilities they have just been given, Lady Danbury," Lady Medici said, her voice a touch firmer than usual.

Lady Danbury’s sharp gaze flickered toward Lady Medici, her lips curling into a smirk. "I have no doubt they are. But awareness is only the first step, Duchess. Execution, now that… that will be the true test."

Caterina resisted the urge to swallow nervously as Lady Danbury’s words hung in the air, their weight undeniable. It was as though she was already being judged, long before she had the chance to prove herself.

Suddenly, Lady Danbury’s tone shifted, and she looked back at the twins with a casual, almost dismissive air. "You are both invited for tea tomorrow afternoon at my house. I would like to speak with you about a few things, check up on others."

Caterina and Teresa’s eyes widened in surprise at the sudden invitation. It was not common for Lady Danbury to extend such personal offers, especially not to newcomers like them. A flicker of uncertainty passed between the twins, but Lady Medici was quick to respond, her voice filled with practiced politeness.

"Of course, Lady Danbury," Lady Medici said smoothly. "It would be our utmost pleasure to join you."

Lady Danbury hummed in response, her sharp gaze sweeping over the twins once more before she stepped back. "I’ll see you both tomorrow then. Be prompt."

With that, Lady Danbury turned on her heel and began to make her way through the ballroom, her cane clicking against the polished floor. The Medici women watched her leave, all three of them exhaling in unison once she was out of earshot.

Caterina let out a soft, nervous laugh. "Well, that was… intense."

Teresa nodded, her brow furrowed. "I can’t tell if we made a good impression or not."

Lady Medici smiled, though her expression was thoughtful. "Lady Danbury is not easily impressed, but the fact that she invited you for tea is a good sign. It means she’s interested. And when Lady Danbury is interested, the rest of the ton will follow."

Caterina sighed, feeling the weight of the evening settling on her shoulders. "Well, I suppose we’ll find out tomorrow what she really thinks."

Lady Medici gave her daughters a reassuring smile, though even she couldn’t mask her concern. "Indeed. But for tonight, remember to hold your heads high. You’ve been named the diamonds of the season. That is no small feat, and you deserve every bit of the attention you’re receiving."

Teresa gave a small smile, but Caterina couldn’t help the flicker of doubt that crept into her mind. She wasn’t sure if she wanted all of this attention, the expectations, the pressure, the constant eyes watching her every move. But for now, there was nothing to do but smile, nod, and play the part.

As the music began to swell once more and the night continued around them, Caterina cast a glance across the room. The faces of the ton blurred together, each one filled with curiosity and expectation. Her gaze drifted toward the spot where Benedict Bridgerton had been, but he was gone now, swallowed up by the crowd.

Tomorrow, tea with Lady Danbury. Tonight, the eyes of London’s elite. And in between all of it, the weight of her future hung precariously in the balance.

Caterina straightened her shoulders, giving her mother and sister a final nod of reassurance.

─────────

Lady Danbury, always keen to understand the nuances of courtly decisions, seized the opportunity to inquire further. Her voice was low, almost conspiratorial, as she turned to the Queen with a curious glint in her eye. “Your Majesty, if I may ask, what prompted you to choose these particular young ladies as diamonds of the season?”

The Queen, who was observing the Medici sisters with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction, glanced at Lady Danbury with a twinkle in her eye. “Ah, Lady Danbury, you have a keen interest in my choices,” she remarked, her tone both teasing and indulgent.

The Queen’s gaze returned to Caterina and Teresa, who were now laughing lightly with a pair of gentlemen. The sight seemed to please the Queen immensely.

“Because, Lady Danbury,” the Queen began, her voice rich with a sense of revelry, “I am rather bored of choosing always from the same pool of candidates, our own soil if you will. The season tends to become predictable, doesn’t it? And I daresay it’s time for a bit of variety.”

Lady Danbury raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Are you saying that their foreign origin played a part in your decision?”

The Queen’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Indeed. Two splendid diamonds from overseas. When do I get a chance like that again?” She gestured toward the sisters, who were now the center of attention.

“Their presence introduces a fresh breath of air to our otherwise familiar circle. And who knows? They might even stir things up a bit, adding some excitement to our usual proceedings.”

Lady Danbury nodded thoughtfully, understanding the Queen’s perspective. “I see. You’ve always had a penchant for making the season memorable.”

“Precisely,” the Queen agreed, her gaze following Caterina and Teresa as they moved gracefully through the crowd. “The ton will speak of these two for weeks to come, if not longer. It’s not just about their beauty, though they are certainly striking. It’s about the intrigue and the newness they bring.”

Lady Danbury chuckled softly, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, Your Majesty, I must say you have certainly succeeded in capturing the season’s attention. I’m curious to see how they will handle the scrutiny.”

The Queen’s eyes twinkled with amusement as she turned her attention back to Lady Danbury. “And I am curious to see if they can live up to the reputation I’ve bestowed upon them. After all, the real test lies in how they navigate the intricacies of our society.”

As the two women continued their conversation, the Queen’s gaze lingered on the Medici sisters, her mind already contemplating the potential twists and turns their presence might bring to the season. Meanwhile, Lady Danbury, with her sharp observational skills, made a mental note of the new arrivals, eager to see how they would fare under the watchful eyes of London’s elite.

The evening was still young, and the ballroom was filled with a palpable sense of anticipation. The Queen’s decision to elevate the Medici sisters to diamonds of the season had certainly set the stage for a season unlike any other.

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