January 15, 1896 — Revenge Ball; Dupont Household, London

It was no secret that Dupont had been jilted only days before meeting his bride at the altar. The whole of British society, and likely French society, were abuzz with the gossip that followed. Mr. Dupont was, of course, painted as the heartbroken hero of the tragic tale. It was sure that many young ladies of any prospect and self-respect would likely be looking towards less notorious. No, the ladies of society would leave the poor man to those who were either desperate or had little regard for social standing. And Dupont wasn't even responsible for the incident!

Bell wasn't either, for now. And thus, decided to leave Dupont's name off her card for the time being. Even still, she wasn't a stranger to a good party and there were plenty of men that were less in the hot seat that her ticking debutante clock might be desperate enough to consider. Perhaps. She had to tread cautiously. She had her family to think about. Tradition, secrets, everything.

Each new face to dance with was less exciting than the last. She needed someone to spark something interesting. More importantly, she needed to know that this wasn't going to be a waste of her valuable time. If she was going to spend more than an afternoon on a potential courtship, she wanted to make it count. Men that entered into the family were a hit or a miss, and she would rather not encounter a miss in her own lifetime. Those were a pain to handle. Or... so she had heard.

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