Eloise had attempted to grasp after her brother but unfortunately missed as he dodged gracefully aside. She couldn't look at her dear sister in the face just yet as she pressed her lips tightly in dread before forcing a smile. "Hello sister, how goes your evening? Find some handsome suitors to dance with yet?" And in all honesty, at least Anthony and Mother had somewhat resigned themselves to her expected antics.<br/><br/>"No, I'd much rather hide out in the garden… Nope, that's not happening. Alright then." Daphne had already announced themselves to the room basically, and she could not escape her grip on her arm. Grumbling, Eloise  pulled at her dress's side. "Yes, well. I'm a terrible dancer, we all know that. Would you rather have me embarrass the family on the dance floor or in a scandal of a fake marriage?" Her annoyance at being all dolled up finally getting the better of her as she heaved, her shoulders slouching. "As if Nigel Berbrooke would want to dance with me, an ugly duckling." Despite her gloomy mood, her sister's poor attempt at a joke was at least endearing and managed a weak smile from her.<br/><br/>In her sister's distraction, she practically steered them right into an unfamiliar gentleman. Eloise followed suit and politely curtsied. At the request of a dance, she smiled sarcastically. "Oh no, you wouldn't want to dance with me. She's definitely the one you'd rather, Daphne's a very lovely dancer," she bluntly replied while presenting her older sister to the gentleman.<br/><br/>Unexpectedly they were joined by the gentleman's mother. "Lady Downing, yes of course." Eloise politely curtsied again before returning to awkward silence as she side-eyed her sister to take the lead as she knew she would in situations like these. At least until she found the right opening to escape all this polite bowing and curtsying before it was the death of her composure.<br/><br/>—<br/><br/>Benedict could clearly see the cogs turning in the young woman's mind as she decided whether she wanted to take his offer or not. Finally a small smile had ensured his success, as he returned it with a brilliant one of his own. "Not at all, Miss Moretti." To which he promptly offered his arm and swept her off towards the ballroom without even a second glance at the clucking chickens around them.<br/><br/>Granted, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that he would be catching an earful from Anthony at a later date about fraternizing with those touched by scandal. Not that there was anything actually scandalous to his own mind about what was known. He didn't care much what others might say, after all he had his privilege that would likely shield him from most of it. What could a single dance really do? Other than perhaps proposition the idea in many mothers' minds that the second Bridgerton boy potentially might be courting a young lady who once was thought to be set for marriage and in the end no proposal came.<br/><br/>It was something that could happen, and obviously did every now and again. He didn't quite understand why it was such a big deal to the women of the ton, they liked their drama he supposed.<br/><br/>And as they began their dance, he wondered if perhaps it was too intrusive to ask her about it. Perhaps it was still a sore subject. But that didn't help keep him silent, not that he was trying to be insensitive. "I do apologize if I've come across too forward Miss Moretti, but I hope you've been well? I don't believe we've seen much of you since the Baron's son's wedding." He spoke delicately, so as not to be overheard by others.