FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON'S PERSONALITY WAS THE PIANOFORTE.

No it wasn't. But surely that's what people would often think by her sudden quietness in gatherings and her impulse to speak so passionately about her hobby.

It all started innocently, as she was well educated and raised just as her other sisters until she found great skill in playing those tiles, and now she found herself spending most of her days hypnotized by the sounds created by her hands.

It was common to find her practicing day and even night sometimes. In the past time became a habit to escape the world, to find solitude in a chaotic household. And those soft melodies were a perfect comfort, especially now, as her debut became near.

But everything began to crumble the day Mrs. Jensen declared "I am retiring, Miss Bridgerton"

"What? But you are still young-" Was what Francesca said to the nearly 80-year-old woman who has taught her the art of the pianoforte since she was little.

"You already know how to play so beautifully, dear." The white-haired and gentle woman said, smiling softly to her. "You do not need me anymore, and besides, it is your season, as soon as you find a husband, you won't need to impress anyone anymore."

But the thing Mrs. Jensen would never understand is that Francesca didn't play to impress any suitor or relative. She played for her mere heart's content, for her lungs to breathe at a steady pace, and for her hands not to tremble when nervous. But no one would understand her mind, no one would step into her shoes and realize that the quietness that came along with the piano would always be more than enough for her.

Without Mrs. Jensen didn't mean she would abandon the pianoforte, but it meant less time for practice, no lessons, and that would give time for her mother to prepare Francesca to marry, to enchant society, to speak to people.

And that made her want to die.

"Are you sure, Mrs.Jensen?" She tried to convince the old woman and even offered her tea, which she kindly refused not to spend much time there. "What will you do after you retire? Is it so interesting to make you stop teaching?"

"I will have time for myself, dear, and that is way more interesting than listening to out-of-tune students. "She chuckled. "Not you though, you have always been a formidable student." Francesca smiled grateful, but still not satisfied.

Her lips pursed into a face of discontent, and she still tried to make the poor woman stay when her mother entered the drawer room.

"Oh, Mrs.Jensen." Violet greeted her warmly, but just then noticed the desperation of her daughter's face. "I believe you've told Francesca the news."

"Mama, did you know about this?" Francesca gazed upon her with an accusatory tone.

Violet Bridgerton hesitates to tell her the truth. "Yes...Mrs.Jensen has told me about her wish to retire a week ago." She nodded. "And it is her right to do so, isn't it, Francesca?" Violet said more strictly to her daughter, who averted to look at them. "Francesca?" She said again.

The young woman agreed, although completely against the decision.

"Of course..."Francesca finally gave up and sighed deeply, showing her clear disapproval. "I hope you find joy in this new path you'll follow, Mrs.Jensen."

The old woman smiled gratefully and squeezed Francesca's soft hands once again. Of course, Francesca wasn't mad at her, for many years she taught her and her sisters with incredible attention and caring, she held her in good regard, but the fact that she was about to leave, that things would change so drastically, made her feel slightly betrayed, abandoned even.

"I must go or I'll miss my carriage." The woman announced as she bid her goodbyes to the two women. "Thank you once again, Lady Bridgerton, Miss Francesca. It was an honor." She declared sweetly. "And I wish you all good luck on your debut, dearest. I'm sure you'll find an excellent match."

The girl could only force a smile, as now Mrs.Jensen's white hair disappeared from her sight as she crossed the hard oak wooden doors. She might never see her again, in fact, since she was moving to the countryside with a cousin, and that small piece of her past would be all she would have left of that woman, the music that resonated within her heart.

Once Francesca looked back at her mother, Violet almost trembled at her disapproving gaze, like she could stab into her soul, exposing how deeply frustrated she felt, as she walked back to the piano and started to play an angry melody, perhaps Bach.

"Francesca, dear, I know you are upset-"

The piano keys became louder and her fingers moved faster, face cold as stone as she continued the crescendo.

"You must understand it was her choice-"

The rhythm seemed creepier now, mixed with some menace that was in the air, as the angelic creature who played it showed a complete contrast to what she felt deep inside.

"Francesca!" Violet finally yelled and the girl stopped.

"There's no need to be loud." She whispered now fragile once again, eyes landing on the floor.

Violet sighed. She couldn't help it when her daughter made that face when she pouted her lips as a little kid again. It was almost too much for her maternal instinct to handle.

"If you insist so much..."The late viscountess sighed. "We may hire another tutor, so you may continue your lesson until you marry."

Francesca raised her eyes to her mother again, feeling a mixture of emotions within her soul. "There's no way we can convince Mrs. Jensen to stay?" She tried once again.

"I'm afraid that by now she is already on the road and decided, dear." Violet shook her head. "But we can hire someone else just as capable as her."

The problem itself wasn't competence, after all, Francesca was a wonderful player, perphaps she didn't even need instructions any longer. What she liked was the moments in the piece, in quietness, that Mrs.Jensen provided her in those classes. She was a rather calm instructor, and never really criticized her tune she was so patient and serene that Francesca would play for hours and find her there, at a chair near the pianoforte, sleeping, while the whole house remained in complete silence.

That was, for her, moments of heaven on earth.

Now another instructor could be anyone else, or worse, someone loud and rude, who would take her peace away.

But what could be worse, a stranger interrupting her playing, or more hours socializing with other strangers in crowds?

"Alright."Francesca nodded. "But please, not someone too...energized. If possible an elderly, just as Mrs.Jensen."

Charlotte agreed with the deal and softly rubbed her daughter's shoulder. "Now, since we are settled about this discussion. We must go to the modiste." She smiled happily. "I can't believe you'll debut in only two days, aren't you excited?"

She didn't fear a husband she wanted to find one, she wanted something that her parents had, that Daphne had, and that Anthony had. But deep inside, she feared the stares, the talks, the meetings. All the process of actually finding someone was socially draining, and her mother's excitement over it all only terrified her even further.

"Of course." She lied once again through her teeth as her mother wrapped an arm around her and guided her outside the house.

Hard to believe this was only the beginning.

✨️

The Mondrich's club was crowded. Gentlemen here and there chatting over a variety of subjects found privacy and comfort to discuss, also enjoy a good drink produced by their bartender and owner of the establishment.

That was the Bridgerton's favorite club to be at currently, and Colin had just returned from their trip, along with Benedict who had come to town to stay for a few months as his wife needed help with the baby. It was a reason to celebrate, the ABC trio was back and just as unstoppable as ever. There was laughter, there was joy, and of course, many drinks.

"Anthony will pay it this time." Benedict insisted as the oldest made a face at him. "You're the only one with a title between us all, it is only fair if you do it."

"That makes no sense, but I agree," Colin smirked with pride, showing off the cheekbones that were once ignored by his old haircut. "I believe we should make a toast, to Anthony."

"To Anthony!" Benedict shouted.

The viscount rolled his eyes and made the toast with his brothers, rolling his eyes. "Your pricks." He commented annoyed as he gazed over at Benedict, who was extremely joyful. "Shouldn't you be at home with Bellatrix and Aurora?"

"She will be accompanying our mother, Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth at the modiste today." He declared with a smile. "You must know my wife has a great fashion sense and would never step away from such an opportunity."

"It is incredible." Colin chuckled as he finished his glass of bourbon. "Benedict was the one to marry first, how is that even possible?"

"The first one was Daphne!" Benedict declared with a silly smile.

"He meant within us three, your idiot." Anthony mocked, lightly pushing his shoulder. "But let's not forget he stole my fiancé."

"Did you need to say it in such a way, brother? I met her first." He whimpered as a little boy fighting over a toy.

"No, you did not." Anthony hissed back. "But enough, drink it up so I don't have to listen to your bitching and moaning." He poured another glass to his sibling, who giggled maniacally.

The Bridgerton table was too fun to even notice the gentleman who crossed the pub, as a shy black cat who attempted not to be noticed and who ignored each person in that room until he made his way to the counter.

"Mr.Reeves, it's been a long time." Will Mondrich smiled teasingly at his friend. "How have you been?"

The man tiredly sighed, his slightly wavy dark-haired strands falling over his piercing stormy blue eyes, as his large veiny hand rested over the counter. "I can say I've been in a better mood, Mr.Mondrich." He let it out with a half smile, dimples exposed to the sunlight. "What could you offer me to drift away from reality for a moment?"

Will smirked at him "Just give me a moment." He responded as he was off to make his order.

Mercy Reeves gazed back at the nobleman that now filled the club, his face twitching in disgust for them. All so grand, powerful, and important, when in reality, deep inside, were nothing but shallow hypocrites who adored to step into others' private lives.

He held nothing but repulse for them.

"Here it is," Mondrich said as the strong drink appeared before Mercy, a refreshment after a week in the desert. "So, tough day?"

Mercy wasn't one to finish his glass quickly, he liked to savor it, let the substance alter delicately his essence as he consumed it. But this time, he simply swallowed it all in, as a beast attempting to regain control of his consciousness.

"I should be great, but otherwise, I feel as if might be executed at any moment now." He responded, clenching his jaw at the bitter and burning taste now stuck in his throat, good thing he wasn't a singer.

"Can I ask what's the matter or...?"Will tilted his head curious.

Apart from many people in society, Mercy liked Will Mondrich. After all, he was a commoner just like him, who came from poor roots and battled his way to the top just like him. They knew what the real world was, unlike those soft faces and polite sentences type of man who gathered to laugh at their faces. They knew what it was like to fight and attempt to survive every day, while others feast in their disgrace.

"I received another offer today, for a big presentation this time." He responded as Will poured another glass for him.

"Wait...Isn't that supposed to be great news?" Will's eyes sparkled with admiration. "Congratulations, my brother." He tapped his shoulder proudly. "When is it? Where is it? Tell me all the details."

But as much as Mercy wanted to be proud of his achievement, he felt as if something was tied to his feet, like an anchor that didn't allow him to move, his throat was stuck by the overwhelming responsibility on his hands.

"I will play in the first soireé of the season." He suddenly said and Will was paralyzed, jaw dropped at the news. "Lady Danbury is paying me, she found my music...strikingly original, as she established it."

"Bloody-Mercy that is....wow!." He widened his eyes. "I mean, you've always been famous but..this is another level." He continued, as his friend nodded. "The queen will be there, the bloody queen of England!" He whistled impressed. "My Goodness, I should tie you down before you let this success go right up to your head." He joked with a comforting laugh. "I need to tell Alice about this!"

"I...I'm not sure if I will play at the soireé yet." he suddenly declared.

Will stopped, and when he realized, his friend's reflected a true internal conflict of his own, something so deeply complicated, that he instantly slowed down.

"And...why is that?" He asked delicately.

"I..."He sighed. "I know it might seem unreasonable but..playing for a few nobles at certain normal events is...fine. But playing for the high peers...for God's sake, playing for the Queen!" His hands ran through his face in an exhausted gesture. "I'm not sure I'll be able to fake smiles all night long."

"But you must." He made a face. "Mercy it is your dream to be recognized for your talent, this is your moment to prove them." He insisted. "You can not just let go of this opportunity."

"I know, you are right but..."He sighed. "I've spent so long secretly despising these people..."He looked around the saloon. "To now find myself depending on them."

"You depend on yourself." Will corrected him. "Your value is not based on theirs. Think about it, showcasing your talent and causing jealousy to the nobles." He joked and his friend grinned. "Oh, I would pay fortunes to see it."

"I might just go for the payment, you see." He gave a half smile.

"I knew Lady Danbury was rich, but from your expression, that must be an understatement of mine." He laughed out loud. "But seriously now, Mercy." He held out his friend's shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes. "Be the musician they admire, and the commoner they fear. Do it. For all of us."

Will knew just the exact words to hit his soul. He had won, of course, and knew it right away from the smile on his somber friend's face.

"Will!" Alice called her husband from the door of the club.

"Wife's calling, better hurry." Will winked at his friend.

"I hope you are in serious trouble." Mercy Reeves teased as his friend made a face at him.

"Just wait until you're married, Reeves, I will make your life pure hell." He laughed out loud as he promptly went after his wife.

Mercy shook his head, still with a smile as he looked back at his empty glass, thoughts spinning as he realized that the new chapter of his life was just the beginning of it all. Couldn't help but feel anxious, maybe even contrary against the changes, but needed to embrace them. For the better or the worse.

He wondered what his mother would've said in that ocasion.

"Oh, seems like our favorite bartender is busy." A joyful voice invaded his ears. Turnung around to face a charming man with a slarge smile and light eyes, a golden ring around his finger indicating an endless love. "Wait, do I know you from somewhere?"

Mercy Reeves squinted his eyes at the nobleman, although he wasn't so elegant as the others, rather relaxed, with few ornaments and a more calm expression on his face.

"I don't quite recall." Mercy said in a rather cold demeanor.

"I am certain...oh, wait!" He snapped his fingers. "The concert at the art academy, you were the pianist, weren't you?" Oh, another fan, there we go. "You were formidable that evening, really."

"Thank you." He gave a dry response.

"I'm Benedict Bridgerton." He quickly offered his hand to shake his. Mercy did not have a choice but to shake his hand in return.

"Mercy Reeves."

"I must thank you, Mr.Reeves, your music gave me great inspiration that evening."

That intrigued him. "Inspiration?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a painter." Now he recalled, Benedict Bridgerton, a rising prodigy at his paintings, one of them was put in the National Gallery even. "Your melodies...they are so vivid, almost like a clear picture, I've never seen, actually, heard, something similar."

For a moment, Mercy found him actually genuine. Was it possible to feel slight empathy for a nobleman? "I feel honoured." He smiled politely.

"Would you like to join me and my brothers for a drink?" He pointed to a table where other two males fought over a card game. "They cheat often, but it can be quite entertaining" He chuckled.

Mercy gazed at the brothers, then at the sudden almost amicable friend he just found. It was a nice offer indeed, and he wasn't one to make much friends, apart from Will, but then again, he knew who they were, not by face or by name, but by class.

They were in a level he would never reach, and from a rank that would always look down at him. And those people he would never trust.

"Unfortunetely I am busy working on a piece for an event coming soon." He reponded instead. "I will have to decline your gentle offer."

"That is a shame." Benedict said kindly. "Perhaps another time?" Of course an artist would seek another artist for friendship, he needed someone to get high on inspiration and often share crazy thoughts wit, something his siblings couldn't accompany often.

"Perhaps." Mercy responded trying to keep his distance, nodding softly. "Now, if you'll exuse me..."

And just as he appeared, he exitd the saloon, head held down, furtive gazes to his surroundings, and a mysterious air around him.

"Where were you?" Anthony said as his brother joined them again. "You missed Colin's defeat." He spoke with pride. "You should've seen the look on his face, if only I could register it."

"Oh, do not take pride over a cheating victory, Anthony." Colin rolled his eyes.

"I've made a friend." Benedict smiled joyfully. "He is an artist as well."

The other two brothers exchanged glances. "Does he uses drugs as well?"

"He might." He tilted his head. "And stop it, I stopped with the drugs once I met Bella."

"Painter or musician?"

"Musician."

"Makes sense." The two nodded.

"It will be good to make a friend during my staying in London. Sometimes not even Bella can endure my chattering over shades of yellow." He chuckled. "But he does seem like...a rare and discreet gentleman."

"Maybe you imagined him." Anthony teased. "Wouldn't be the first time you imagine things when drunk." Colin laughed, recalling the good old days.

"Very funny." Benedict made a face. First,

to clarify, I'm not even as drunk as you are. And second, I will be returning home now, to my spledid wife and my adorable daughter. You may stay at the bar, gentlemen." He replied victoriously, raising his head and exiting the establishment.

Colin laughed as Anthony shook his head. "Sometimes he is quite insufferable."

"Sometimes?" Colin remarked.

"Always."

"You are jealous he might leave you behind because of his new friend." He teased. "How cute, Jealous Anthony."

"That is ridiculous, I do not need Benedict's companion." Anthony lied bluntly. "Besides, I have you."

"Who says I wany to be publicly seen with you? I was just taking my leave as well-ouch!" Colin groaned as Anthony punched his arm.

"Not another single word." He ordered. "Now take your cards."

✨️

"Do you think Aurora will be fine without me?" Bellatrix Bridgerton wondered as she accompanied her husband into Lady Danbury's soireé, watching the delighting couples dance. "I mean, she is still very young, what if she misses me?"

"Lady Willow is a great sitter, she has taken care of Gregory multiple times for our mother when he was younger. I'm sure she will be just fine." Benedict calmed his wife, as he looked at her with his sparkling blue eyes that skaked her soul. "Now, I ask you to please enjoy the evening for a moment." He grinned, kissing softly her cheek. "It is been so long since we've properly joined a ball just us two."

"And your family." She remarked as the Bridgertons one by one joined them.

Indeed, after the honeymoon and Aurora's birth their life has been rather energetic, with not much time to enjoy each other's presence, even if they still lived in the countryside, Benedict bad became famous, he was making art at museums, and that left rather short time for his family. Moments like these were meant to be savored. Although each moment, each gazed smile, and touch, for a couple who never even expected to be together was completely worth it.

But that moment would be very short, hence someone gripped Bellatrix's arm, almost making her gasp.

"Bella." Francesca smiled at her sister-in-law as she held onto her. "Can I stay here, close to you?"

Bellatrix loved the young Francesca, she reminded her of when she made her debut, of all the crescent anxiety on her shoulders and the pressure she thought she would never handle. But there she was, now married to the love of her life and integrant to a warm, welcoming family she never expected to be with. It was a dream come true.

But Francesca's dream was still far from reach, and she knew the hell she'd have to endure in society to achieve it finally.

"Of course-"

"I believe Francesca needs to meet some of the suitors first." Anthony came in, in a more fatherly, authoritarian tone. "Right, Francesca?"

But the debutante didn't seem to approve much of his idea, her eyes were lost as she gripped more tightly to Bella. The soireé was loud and crowded, and even the lights seemed to blind her at that instant, everything was extremely uncomfortable to her and strange.

"I don't think that is necessary Anthony," Bellatrix interjected, noticing the girl's fear. "Francesca is a remarkable lady, I'm sure her presence will be noticed. She doesn't need to chase anyone. They must chase her."

"Spoke as a true Diamond of the Season."Benedict winked, making her chortle. "Francesca," he called his sister as she looked at him. "Want some lemonade?" She nodded. "I'll fetch some for you both, just a moment." He said joyfully as he kissed his wife's cheek and hurried.

Anthony remained serious, hands behind his back. He was quite dazzling that evening, the suit well tailored, and that enticed his strong features. Although all his incredibly powerful posture would crumble in front of Bellatrix.

"I did not know you were Francesca's Defensor now." He teased as Bella smirked at him.

'Not a defensor, but a friend." She responded, making the young girl smile. "And besides, just as you, I want her to find a good match."

Anthony looked at Bellatrix piercing dark eyes that never took no as an answer, a smile escaped his lips. "Not a viscountess, yet behaves as one." He mocked with a hint of longing and sadness.

"Perphaps you should take notes on how to be like me then, Lord Bridgerton." She snapped back, only to make him laugh once again.

But the laughs wouldn't remain for too long before Bella could find herself being observed by a rather familiar presence, very familiar indeed.

"Don't look now but...I think she might have found us." Eloise whispered in a playful tone to Benedict's wife.

Bellatrix looked up only to find her mother there, the mighty Queen Charlotte, watching her, waiting to be greeted next to the host of that evening, Lady Danbury.

"Good God." She sighed. "I might have to go greet her, I'm afraid." She gave a half smile as Benedict returned. "Ben?"

"Yes, my splendid goddess?" He smirked jokingly and Eloise pretended to vomit.

"Accompany Francesca for me, yes?" She said, as she let the girl with her brother, who didn't like her very much be abandoned. "I'll come back very soon." She reassured her, and Francesca forced a smile.

Once Bellatrix was out of sight, there she was again, now in the middle of a glamorous chaos that she didn't want to belong to.

"Lemonade?" Benedict offered, and without thinking twice she distracted herself with the beverage.

Across the room, a rather quiet figure would also repulse the flashing lights of the chandeliers and the pampered laughs emitted by nobles in the atmosphere.

Mercy Reeves adjusted his suit, chin held up high as he took a deep breath and prepared for showtime. Smiles and waves, a true celebrity walking between his haters but also fans. The dark waistcoat with crisps contrasted with the soft, sparkling gowns of the debutantes as he walked by, that is until he bumped into one of them.

"My apologies." He muttered in a low tone until his eyes met light blue ones that resembled the cold first snowflake of Oxford's winter.

But the large shoulder pads and the interesting blonde hairstyle seemed to reprove every breath he'd take. Their eyes went up and down, measuring his clothes. "Watch where you're going." Cressida Cowper called out the musician as he did not mutter a response to not be rude.

He only closed his large fists and walked away, maintaining his posture, while a redheaded wallflower watched it all in some distance, ready to take any interesting fact about that mysterious presence.

"Miss Francesca, tell us, what are your hobbies?" A gentleman would approach her, as Benedict stood by her side.

"Oh, I..."She gulped nervously and smiled. "I play the pianoforte." Benedict smiled proudly.

"That is magnificent."Another one of the men replied. "And what are your other interests?"

"Pianoforte does take a great deal of my time."

This time Benedict wanted to slap his face not to witness the scene. Anthony, who wasn't very far from them, just then noticed the disaster.

"Alright, what Lord Fife means to say is, who are you besides your hobbies?" The man asked once again.

"Yes." Another one remarked. "What do you desire?" He smirked, and Benedict made a face. "What do you despise?"

"What makes you uh...tick?" Another pathetic one asked this time.

Oh, her brother could not endure that scene even longer, those gentlemen were all equally awful and making her nervous. He was about to say something when Anthony came in, squeezing between them.

"Francesca, Benedict." He suddenly said. "Our mother is looking for the both of you, come along." The girl blinked surprised at him and Benedict did not waste any time to link Francesca's arm to him, as Benedict did the same to her by her opposite side and raptured her from that conversation.

"Perfect timing." Benedict sighed relieved as Francesca tried to relax.

"Maybe Bellatrix is right." Anthony reluctantly admitted. "We do not need to rush into finding you a suitor, a better one will present himself and not make you..." He noticed the panic on his sister's face. "...feel uncomfortable."

"I agree." Benedict nodded positively.

Up at the balcony, where all the high aristocracy stood, Bellatrix interacted with her mother, watching the trio move across the room.

"Your husband reminds me of some sort of mouse." Charlotte squinted her eyes as she watched Benedict walk.

"...Thank you?" Bellatrix did not know how to respond.

"I believe what she meant is...that Mr.Bridgerton has a unique charisma." Lady Danbury corrected instead, she looked stunning that evening in her white gown. "And he is quite handsome as well."

"Acts like some sort of mouse looking for cheese, I can not tell why."Charlotte insisted as Bella made a face. "What?" Bella rolled her eyes. "I do not disapprove of him, I accepted your marriage, your abdication of the throne. I accepted him."

"But you mock him."

"If I did not mock him, that would not be me." And this time Danbury agreed with her. "How is Aurora? Still can't believe you accepted your father's name suggestion of naming her from the Aurora Borealis."

"You saw her two days ago with Papa."

Charlotte made a face, a bit reluctant "I might miss her."

"Might?" This time Bella smiled at the tenderness of seeing her mother as a sweet grandmother.

"She would never openly admit it," Danbury whispered making Bella chuckle.

"Enough gossip you both, I already have to deal with the obnoxious Whistledown for that," Charlotte replied as they now looked over at the dark-dressed musician. "What is that? A funeral?"

"Quite charming," Bella commented.

"My newest discovery," Danbury explained. "Mr. Mercy Reeves, a self-made pianist, extremely talented."

"Well, he does look rather melancholic." Charlotte tilted her head to the side. "But the most depressed are the best artists, are they not?"

"Not mine."Bella smiled as she waved at her husband down there, he smiled as a little boy admired at her presence. Charlotte groaned.

"Well then, you forbid him of greater success then." She interjected as the artist avoided her gaze nervous. "I can not lie, he is extremely joyful with you..." It almost reminded her of George of when they were young, and it struck her heart to even think about it. "...At least he fulfills his duty to love you" She hid her admiration for their relationship.

"Was that a compliment I heard?" Bellatrix smirked.

"I did not say such a thing-"

"Enough you both." Danbury silenced them. "The show is about to start."

There was the announcement of his name, then, the gathering and silence of the crowd surrounding the center of the saloon, where now a piano was moved and the musician came to the center.

"Oh, look, Francesca, a piano presentation, you might like that," Benedict said sweetly, as his sister turned to watch the dark-dressed stranger sit on the stool just in front of the black jet instrument decorated with golden details that sparkled beneath the glistening lights of that evening.

He didn't make any introductions or speak about the ballad he would play, in fact, he barely acknowledged the crowd, as some closed, narrow specter of focusing only on the sound of the music.

She couldn't see much and was a bit far from the middle, but could spot that the playful facade of the stranger was gone as he let his finger descend upon the keys, delicate notes of fragility and vulnerability opened his act, as the crowd listened entranced to the rhythm.

It wasn't a recognizable melody as she listened to it, it could've been noticed it had never played before, something unique, just as that intricate moment witnessed before her magically hypnotized eyes. The harmony was somehow lost in its own paradise, as some refugee to outcasts in a beautiful room of judges, and it got louder, in a crescendo of a storm that represented one's mind, pouring the perfect outraged balance between heart and soul in every note.

All Francesca Bridgerton thought she knew about music was proven wrong at that single moment, at those single notes, and at the existence of that man.

In that fragment of time, his melody made her escape from the crowd, from the duty, the overthinking, the lack of speaking...and everything.

It was a supernatural, invisible, and unspoken force that made her instantly quiet, filtering the sounds of the room even when her brothers were speaking to her. This was not simply a complexity of notes written on a music sheet that someone followed heartlessly, this was, to her, the extraordinary, the intangible, the reflection of one's most beautiful dreams and most horrid nightmares.

A souvenir of his heart.

Hands glued to her chest, eyes open wide, mouth slightly open to the amusement of that scenario when the song had ended. She couldn't even applaud along with the ton by how intense the sensation was, like the whole room vibrated but she and that mysterious man were there, stabilized into another frequency no one could tune in.

"That was gorgeous" Anthony applauded and Benedict nodded with enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around his wife who now rejoined the group.

The musician bowed fastly, almost unnoticeably, and within the blink of an eye, he had vanished from the room, leaving Francesca astray.

"Mr. Mercy Reeves is astonishingly talented, can you believe that was his own composition?"People nearby would say.

"He will be the next Mozart of our generation, I can tell"

"He is not even close to Mozart, do not speak nonsense, he is such an amateur, I can not believe Lady Danbury would allow this man as her main attraction" Others would say.

But all the chattering, the gossiping, although incredibly inviting to many would only mean nothing to Francesca, as she stood there, as an open wound in the middle of a sea of words, only reverberating the melody of her recently discovered heart to a music she has always dreamt of, although never known.

"Brother."She suddenly said to Anthony. "I should like a moment alone." Francesca let the anxious sentence hang in the air, making the Bridgertons exchange confused glances.

"But you haven't met the suitors yet-"

"Anthony."Bellatrix kindly touched his arm. "Let her take some fresh air for a minute, yes?"She gave a gentle smile and nodded to the girl, who thanked her in silence.

Anthony sighed. "Do not take too long." He remarked.

"I won't. Thank you" She smiled furtively and quickly exited the saloon, eyes following her charming presence until she couldn't be seen anymore.

"You spoil her."Anthony teased Bella.

"Oh, come on, Brother."Benedict tilted his head. "None of us wouldn't last an hour being a debutante as women do. It can be suffocating, especially with these bunch of narcissistic suitors." He explained as Bella looked at him proudly. "And Francesca is very responsible, I'm sure she'll be back in no time."

"Let's hope so." Te viscount said a bit pessimistic, but with all good intentions, as he cared deeply for his family.

"Now." The artist turned to his black-skinned muse with a grin. "I think you still owe me a dance, Miss Bridgerton."

Bella smiled and lightened the whole room with her heart pounding on her chest, no matter how much time it would pass, Benedict managed to always break its speed limit. "I thought you'd ever ask." She let it out softly as the two swung to the dance floor, as two love birds never apart.

✨️

The air of the moonlit gardens was rather fresh and mystique, with a hint of the roses that adorned the stunning and lonely night scenario. It brought Francecsa and immediate sense of peacefulness, something she has been longing for all evening since she stepped into that residence.

There was no sign of anyone nearby, and in that realization, all her defenses were brought down by the wave of desperation that was built inside her body involuntarily. She hated to be like that, hated how not to form a sentence correctly or to answer as she was supposed to. Her looks privileged her, in some way, but what was her apart from that, if none of the men in that room could witness the hidden gem she was beneath those layers of introvertment, who only wished to be seen in secrecy?

A deep breath escaped her lungs like the wind would blow in a stormy weather, shoulders, and posture relaxed. There were no obstacles, no eyes, no talking, only her bare soul and the night.

That is until footsteps were only some inches away from her, a taller presence with hands behind his back, rigid structure that nervously stopped in its' place, not daring to look at her.

"Good evening." A velvet british tone was spoken within the silence.

Francesca already cursed mentally to have her solitude ruined so quickly, but she almost gasped as she looked across her direction, spotting Mercy Reeves. The weather became colder as she stuttered to even say a word to him "Good even-"

"Do you mind if we stay in silence?" He suddenly cut her, his deep blue eyes piercing into hers, as a benevolent unease pleaded. "I did not know someone else would be in the gardens, I apologize." He explained. "But I can assure you, that my intentions are only to find some seclusion from that pandemonium." His ideas matched her suddenly. "Would you allow me to please stay here, just for a moment as a speechless spirit whose presence you won't even notice?"

Francesca could barely speak, the thought of being inequality of thoughts with someone that evening seemed all too surprising and surrealistic to her. Something fragile, sweet, and comforting took over her chest, and she only nodded with her head. "Thank you" He muttered lowly, turning his sight again to the horizon of the fields in the distance.

She did the same, but could not help but notice his worried figure, now closing his eyes to remain present in that single timestamp of his recent success. How, such a victorious talented pianist could break so easily after receiving a long and vibrant standing ovation?

There were more layers to the persona by her side, layers that developed when he exposed his melody to the ton, and only a few, misjudged, small, and hidden ones would comprehend, such as the outcast Francesca Bridgerton, who would feel lonesome in the most welcoming on the families.

His skillfully yet calloused hands that played such beautiful melodies now rest by his side, flexing his from time to time, as a clear sign of his fears now seen by her. It was almost as she met him through his song, and now received the confirmation by meeting him in person.

For a single moment, he looked to his left, meeting her soft gaze between the dark sky, sparkling dark oak eyes framed by a delicate face, reflecting the somber image of a lonely, secretive, and shadowy pale musician.

He was, hauntingly, the most mesmerizing quietness she had ever experienced.

And she was, stunningly, the most receptive gemstone among sparkling yet fake ones.

Their shared, timid smile, was the most dangerous yet thrilling emotion ever evoked in that decade.

"Francesca!" The young woman could reconize her mother's voice in somw distance.

The silence was broke and so was that small oasis of time. Her posture became tense again, the expression nervous.

"That must be for you, I suppose" He said in a warm note that made her chortle nervously.

"Oh, yes...Yes it is." She nodded, trying to find unthinkable words to say. "I...sorry, please, excuse me."

Mercy only agreed with his head in a gentle motion, their gazes still meeting as she looked back, over and over again at the mysterious man who captured her essence in such a small time.

"Oh there you are" Violet grabbed her daughter's hands. "Where have you been? i was worried-"

"Just taking some fresh air." She answered, still with her thoughts stuck in the garden.

But Bellatrix noticed something off, maybe the faint blush on Francesca's cheeks or the smile loosen on her usual shy facade. It was something rather...familiar to her and she couldn't quite tell.

"Penny for your thoughts, dearest wife?" Benedict joked as they all gathered to go back to the carriages.

She rubbed his hand on hers softly, with a smile. "I was just thinking...well, nevermind." She turned to him. "Something I learned with you it is, to let fate take over."

"Such a powerful sentence." He teased with a grin. "Ready to go home?" He linked his arm with hers.

"You're my home" She smiled softly, as their heartbeats matched their step until their carriage.

But as Francesca Bridgerton entered her carriage, she didn't feel like going home. Instead, her consciouness traveled to secret gardens in her mind.

A kaleidoscope of emotions never before felt, but now awaken.