The day would be a long one and Eloise had been weary about it since the moment sun had broken over the horizon. Everyone knew she hated balls, and much more so when it was one being held in her own home. It went without saying how important mother had impressed on her children that they were to be engaged by the end of the season, and Eloise was not interested in the least. She had barely slept as it was, and dark circles had appeared beneath her eyes as she peeped in the mirror.<br/><br/>Her hair entirely unkempt from tossing and turning, she attempted to straighten it out by patting and stroking it with her fingers. Useless.<br/><br/>Throwing her hands in the air, she gave up on it. Knowing full-well that soon the maids would be in to clean and have her prepped, primped and ready for the dreaded ordeal (undoubtedly supervised by mother), Eloise decided now was the time to act. She didn't care about the consequences and would face the music later, but for now she had better plans. Snatching the latest book she'd been reading off her bedside table, she somehow managed to sneak outside unseen. For days like this, she had a secret hiding place which was behind the stairs in the extra outdoor cellar storage.<br/><br/>She wasn't sure how much time had passed as she sat there with her candle reading her book. However it was more than enough time to cause a panic as she heard the scurrying footsteps of their servants running around in search for her. She imagined Daphne was having a right fit over her disappearance and rather than be found out in her only refuge, she decided it would be better to keep the place a hidden gem.<br/><br/>Once the coast was clear, she emerged with book still in hand. It looked to be late afternoon by the sun and as she entered their living quarters, mother nearly had a stroke. "Eloise!<i>Where</i>have you been?! Quickly, quickly, we must get you ready! There's hardly enough time before guests will be arriving!" And she was shuffled off to her room to be plucked and stuffed into a straightjacket one might call formalwear.<br/><br/>As per usual, Daphne looked stunning and exceptionally natural in a gown whereas Eloise… An awkward duckling. She pulled uncomfortably at the gloves she was forced to don and fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Everyone looked so beautiful and especially so under all the decorations. Her eyes shifted about in hopes of not catching anyone's gaze causing her to bump into her favorite brother. "Brother!" she exclaimed, swiftly linking her arm in his to safe herself from anyone who might approach her. "How fairs your evening? Dance with any pretty maidens yet?"<br/><br/>"So you finally decided to show yourself, hm? Could've had better timing, Daph might strangle you on sight," came Benedict's tease. "And no, not quite yet. I've only just freed myself of our brothers and am rather stifled from all the blatant<i>staring</i>." The two chuckled, nudging each other lovingly before they were abruptly met by none other than their dear sister Daphne. "Well, that's my cue." And smoothly relinquishing El's hold on his arm, he swerved around the two, though not before whispering 'Good luck" in El's ear. That was not a reprimanding that he would like to witness.<br/><br/>He had more pressing matters at hand, which happened to be getting a drink in his hand. Wandering through their multitude of guests, Benedict made it over to the table of refreshments and was glad to have his first sip of the night. One could hardly attend a ball sober. As he drank deeply from his glass, he nodded acknowledgements to those he ought to recognize and even those he didn't. As each beautiful face stared him down, he smiled as he should and charmingly so. He understood their purpose here, hoping to snag one of the Bridgerton boys as a prize. He never felt more like meat on a stick than tonight and though it took quite a lot for him to feel self-conscious, he couldn't help feeling the creeping sensation of growing discomfort.<br/><br/>Of course he would dance with some of the girls, or else mother would have his hide. But he wanted nothing more than to disappear into his study and paint. As his thoughts wandered to the studies he'd been working on for a project he had in mind, his gaze had fallen on a vaguely familiar face. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but as he watched her in her own discomfort he recognized her as Isadora Moretti. The scandal had been a while ago, but it was clear from those around them that it was not quite yet forgotten.<br/><br/>Topping off his drink, he made a firm decision as he placed the glass on a passing servant's tray. Confidently, he walked straight over to the woman and bowed in greeting. "Good evening Miss Moretti, has anyone taken your first dance yet by chance?" He smiled warmly to her, causing a hush around them. He wished only to quiet their nonsensical whispers, feeling sympathetic to the young lady's unease.