a pagliaccio triste.

[Jim Scott]

It is a major culture shock being in The Ton, especially for someone not used to being on the other side of the suit -- so to speak.  Jim (please remember that your name is now Jim) had been used to dressing lords, not being one.  He thinks, however, that he has a good enough idea to play the role perfectly.  Some young women who flock to him for attention help solidify that.  He's lucky that he has a pretty face, and his accent is mysterious enough to attract curiosity.  He can see the look of disdain in their parents faces, and already he has been thwarted in courting some potential brides because of his bastard status.

Ugh.  If only he could have concocted a different story, but being a bastard was the only way to sell it best.  

Still, he is not deterred.  He has decent coin now from selling off a good percentage his father's land.  If Jim has his way, he won't have to step into Scotland ever again.  He's taken to London well, especially downtown, where he can gamble and enjoy himself like he did back home.  All he needs to do is secure a sizable dowry, and he would be set for life.  He's got this.  

No pressure.

Jim spots her from across the room with her incredibly detailed hairstyle and matching dress.  Cressida Cowper, he recalls.  Lord Cowper has a sizable estate, and certainly Miss Cowper's dowry would be quite. . . agreeable.  Yes, she would do nicely.  At least for a dance.  Jim approaches her, smiling at her, those baby blues gazing upon her with manufactured reverence.  "Miss Cowper,"  he greets with a nod of his head.  "I would be honored if you could fit me in for a dance later this evening."  

Tag: @cressidacowper

[Deleted]

Cressida's dance card was not as full as she'd like it to be. It never was. She told herself and her friends, Li Na and Caroline, that she was keeping some spots open for something bigger. That wasn't entirely untrue. Most debutantes were trying to marry above their station. She had really only been aiming for a Bridgerton to ask her to dance. She'd even accosted Colin when they'd both gotten a moment free, but it hadn't gone as planned. Thankfully, the Bridgertons had other sons.

While she waited, she clung to the sidelines like glue, gossiping with her mother and friends. If anything thought she was a terrible and nosy gossip, she had nothing on her mother. It was clear to everyone who she had gotten it all from. She made a few mocking remarks about Penelope being some pathetic wallflower to ease her own self-conscious feeling knowing she had some empty spaces on her dance card. She hated feeling this desperate.

However, just as she was starting resign herself to a night of snide remarks and enough gossip to fill a Lady Whistledown sheet, something she enjoyed more than she cared to admit, he came up to her.

James Scott, the Earl of Deloraine. That was certainly a title she could get behind and her eyes lit up as he spoke her name. She wasn't particularly fond of some of the rumors she had heard about him and his illegitimate status, as he appeared in town almost out of thin air, but she wasn't sure she could take watching so many other girls on the dance floor with reasonable suitors. Didn't she deserve one, too? And, besides, it was just one dance.

"Oh, Lord Scott." She bowed her head, smiled softly and quickly brought her fan up to cover her face to keep up her demure act. "I would be honored."

---

Jim Scott

★fai

a pagliaccio triste

cressida & jim

notes:

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! I FORGOT TO BOOKMARK IT!!