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frost-queen · 22 hours

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Till it bites you back // part 4 (Male!Reader x Eloise Bridgerton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic , @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers , @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly ,@denkisclown , @wildieflower ,@meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07 , @melsunshine @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury , @imagines-by-her , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m , @thethreeeyed-raven , @anonymous-cat-21 , @lord-lyss , @nameless-flowerr , @hipsternerd9 , @kookietunes07 , @dd122004dd , @ryv-viv , @aquilla6077, @sauron559, @cluelessteam. @czarinera , @korane06 , @luvinyouwasred123

Summary: When unmasking Lady Whistledown doesn't matter to you anymore, you fear that what brought you together might turn against you. Not sure if Eloise Bridgerton would still be interested in you without it. [Part 1, part 2 & part 3 ]

The room was quite. Only but a few sounds of a pen scribbling over paper. Aggressive scratch marks crossing things off. Papers crumbling together that landed with a soft thud on the floor. Just one more paper ball amongst the ocean of papers. Through the window fell the moonlight upon a wooden desk.

Some ink stains from the past engraved in the wood, unable to clean off. The candle standing on a stack of books almost burned out. But a small flicker. Head down, you were too focused and agitated to do anything about the mess. You didn’t even hear the knock on the door, followed by it creakingly opening.

Claude stepped inside, staring with wide eyes at the battle field of papers. Papers carelessly thrown and tossed aside. Most of them barely haven anything written on it. Claude took careful steps, gaze downwards to not step on a paper prop. – “Your royal…” – he started cut off by a loud groan of yours.

Followed by a new paper ball getting tossed his direction. It was without you looking up, so you weren’t really aiming for him. It just went his way. Claude moved his head aside, for the paper to pass over his shoulder, hitting the wall behind him before it plopped to the ground.

Claude straightened his jacket with a soft pull. – “Your royal highness.” – he addressed you, moving his hands to his back. Frustratingly you tore the paper before you, crumbling it aggressively in your hand. In utter frustration you threw it away, haven gotten up from your chair to use more velocity with it. The paper flew in Claude’s direction once more as he simply caught it with his hand. You blinked surprised at Claude, only seemingly now noticing him. Claude approached your desk, letting the paper ball roll off his palm onto your desk.

“I believe a restock of paper will be in order.” – Claude said without a glance upwards to you. Your first response was to exhale loud and worn out. Letting yourself slump back in the chair, wiping your hands down your face. – “Your royal highness it is late.” – Claude pointed out. His reaction made you turn your head to the side, seeing a full moon outside. It made you groan even louder with sorrow. – “Je m’excuse Claude.” – you let out. – “Please do not tell mama.” – you asked. Claude shook his head, letting you know it would be kept a secret.

You got up from your chair, walking through the rubbage of paper to your bed. Coming to sit at the end. Seeing the battle on your floor made you breath out a laugh. – “I…I’m sorry Claude.” – you said sheepishly, moving your hand over your eyes. – “I’ll… I’ll clean it up before breakfast.” – lowering your hand, you let it flop onto your thigh. Claude took out his pocket watch, quirking an eyebrow up. – “Which is precisely in five hours, your royal highness.” – he informed you with a cheeky smile. You groaned loud letting yourself fall back on your bed. Not a moment later, you sat back up.

“It’s just… the… the…” – gesturing at the papers, you felt foolish to even say it. Claude started to re-arrange your desk as it should be. – “Lady Whistledown.” – Claude filled in. – “Yes!” – you exclaimed loudly. – “How is your list going?” – Claude asked. You didn’t mind as you knew Claude almost your entire life. He was the only one, you allowed to overstep and mingle a bit in your affairs. – “It’s… it’s pointless.” – you told him. – “I have listed numerous thing. I feel like I have everything and nothing at all. For all could be Whistledown and all could be not. Does that make any sense?” – you asked Claude, sounding like a mad-man, feeling like a mad-man.

Claude looked around the room. – “Perhaps it is not unmasking Whistledown what is important, but rather the journey to it.” – Claude told you as it made you frown. – “Unmasking Whistledown IS what is important.” – you let out. Claude shook his head, clicking his tongue. – “You do not really care for it, your royal highness.” - he went on.

“But I have to!” – you let out, getting up. – “I… I have to…” – you said on softer tone. – “For Miss Bridgerton.” – Claude proposed. You let yourself sit back down, shoulders slouched forwards. – “What if…” – you said soft, looking saddened up to Claude. – “You fear that without Whistledown, Miss Bridgerton will show no interest? That you need Whistledown to keep Miss Bridgerton close and enjoy her company.”

Letting your face fall into the palms of your hands, you knew Claude was right. All of this. The search for Whistledown. The investment in finding clues, figuring it out, was all to keep Miss Bridgerton close. Because she cared for it, you felt the need to care for it too. To be honest, you didn’t care much what that gossipy pamphlet wrote. Amusement for the ton, not so much to you.

You hated the prejudice that was behind it. You wanted to meet people for who they are. Explore their deepest by conversating, getting to know them. Not what Whistledown exploited about them. Claude approached you, placing his gloved hand on your shoulder. – “Your royal highness, try to get some sleep.” – Claude let you know, making you nod.

His hand slipped off your shoulder as you turned around, crawling further up into your bed to lay yourself down. – “Your royal…” – Claude started seeing you slip under the covers in fully clothing. Even still wearing your shoes. Claude exhaled soft letting you be. He blew your candle out as the room went dark.

The next morning you sat at the breakfast table, yawning loud. Claude stood behind you, a few paces to the wall. He cleared his throat loud as it made you sit up straight. Not a second later opened the doors, your maman entering. You got up, addressing her with a bow. Your maman sat herself down. – “Any prospects my son?” – she said placing a napkin on her lap. – “Maman! It is morning.” – you told her sitting back down.

“And not too soon.” – she answered. – “Have I seen any ladies yet?” – she gestured around the room at the countless other empty chairs at the long table. – “Have you been calling upon houses? Danced? Y/n I cannot think otherwise than that you are neglecting what I asked of you.” – she went on. – “Maman.” – you let out.

She simply gave you a motherly scowl whilst tapping her spoon against her egg to crack the shell. – “I…” – you started, but couldn’t finish. She lowered her spoon, placing her hand on top of yours. Giving you a pitiful glance. – “Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.” – she spoke in her mother tongue.

“The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.” – you translated with a faint smile. She gave your hand a soft squeeze. You got up, leaning in to give her a caring kiss against her forehead. She moved her hand back finishing up her breakfast. After breakfast, her words kept echoing through your mind. You occupied yourself till the night fell for the next ball.

Knowing you would meet Miss Bridgerton once more. Not sure how she would react upon meeting you once more. Having investigated much with her about Whistledown. The carriage awaited as Claude opened the door for you and your maman. Claude gave you a promising nod before you stepped in.

Maman was fanning herself some cool as you looked out of the window. Seeing a crescent moon with a haze of clouds brushing past. The carriage wobbled on the cobble stone. Claude sitting in the front with the rider. The carriage arrived at the estate as you prepared yourself for the ball.

Claude stood not far from you. You kept yourself close to the walls. Upon seeing a pair of ladies and their mama’s come your way, your eyes widened. Turning on your heel with a nervous swallow and head into a different direction. Claude following behind you. Coming to a full stop, you saw more girls eyeing you with their fan. It made you turn a quarter on your heel, heading more to the centre of the ballroom.

Claude followed silently at each turn you took. – “Perhaps his royal highness wishes to hide behind the curtains?” – Claude suggested as it made you laugh loud. Stopping and swallowing nervously, you saw a mama pull her daughter your way. – “About that thought.” – you answered, ready to take on his request. You turned round, heading back, not wanting to deal with any ladies and their desperate mama’s to have their daughters married to royalty.

Reaching a wall, you felt like they had closed in on you. With desperation you looked at Claude. Just as they were closing in on you like hunters for prey, you heard a familiar voice. – “There you are. I have been looking everywhere for you.” – turning your head you saw Miss Eloise Bridgerton join your side, tugging her glove a bit higher. She casually joined your side, giving Claude a nod.

Claude nodded back at her. Eloise looked stunned at the girls who now seemingly have stopped, looking around as if their quest for speaking with you has been interrupted. – “It appears I have come at a proper time to whisk you away from all the ladies.” – Eloise chuckled out humouring. – “Yes.” – you answered. Eloise motioned with her hands to shoo the girls away.

They gave her a foul glance before toddling off. – “That should give you some breathing area.” – Eloise spoke with a smile. – “I am forever grateful Miss Eloise.” – you answered with your hand on your heart. You quirked your eyebrow up seeing Eloise manoeuvre to try and pull something out of her reticule. She smiled glorious once she had taken out the crumbled up papers.

“Since we’ve crossed out numerous names now. I am feeling that we are close to unmask her.” – Eloise spoke as you forced a polite smile back at her. She started giving you the papers, apologizing for it being so crumbled. She kept handing them to you, telling you all about her findings as you couldn’t bring a word in between. Claude cleared his throat softly behind you. – “Miss Eloise…” – you said for her attention.

Eloise kept rambling on as a paper fell out of your hands, dartling towards the ground. Having caught it just in time, having bend through your knees to catch it. – “Miss Eloise.” – you called out to her, desperate for her attention to stop. Eloise stopped abruptly, looking surprised at you. – “I…I…” – you began, swallowing your words back in by how she gazed upon you.

With those big sweet doe eyes as she waited for your words. Sighing soft, you felt afraid to let her know. Afraid to loose her. Afraid she would toss you aside once you tell her you have lost interest in Lady Whistledown. That you no longer care to unmask her, but rather wish to spend more time with her.

You carefully gave the papers back to Eloise as she accepted them confused. – “I am sorry, but I… I lost interest in Whistledown. I only kept going for you. To be closer to you, if you allow me.” – you told her. Eloise took a step back as it made you lower your gaze. – “I very much like to be around you without the fuss of Whistledown bonding us. I believe there must be more than that connecting us. There has to be.” – you explained further, hoping for her to see it.

Eloise blinked softly. Reflecting upon herself. You laid your hand out to her. – “I thought uncovering Lady Whistledown was the most important thing in my life.” – Eloise spoke placing the tips of her fingers in your hand. You took a step closer, laying your other hand on hers that rested in your palm. – “I couldn’t have been more wrong.” – she finished.

“Is… is that Eloise with the prince, mama?” – Colin pointed out, making several heads turn. – “Why yes.” – Violet addressed in shock. – “She does not seem one bit annoyed by his presence.” – Benedict spoke, tilting his head to the side. – “That is grand for our sister.” – he chuckled out, receiving a slap against his arm from Violet. Violet smiled warmly in Eloise’s direction seeing how her daughter looked upon the prince. Touched by how her daughter seemed to have found love where she didn’t think she would.

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thetalkoftheton · 2 days

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Eloise: Spread out, look for clues.

Y/N: What exactly does a clue look like?

Penelope: I am looking for footprints or something.

Y/N: Have you found any yet?

Penelope: No, but that is probably because I have not moved from this spot.

Y/N: Perhaps we should move around, pretend we know what we are doing.

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton reader insert #incorrect bridgerton #incorrect bridgerton quotes #bridgerton incorrect quotes #eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington x reader #penelope featherington #penelope featherington imagine

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infictionalwonderland · 10 days

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Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)

(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)

“She’s here!”

The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.

You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.

You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.

(You were in love)

“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.

Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.

“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.

As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.

“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”

“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.

“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”

“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.

All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.

“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.

“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”

“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.

She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.

“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”

“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”

“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”

Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.

“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.

“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.

Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.

“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”

“I would like very much.”

You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.

“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”

“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.

Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.

She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.

“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.

“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.

“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“

“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.

He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.

The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.

Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.

“This—this is hardly—“

“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.

You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.

“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”

“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”

“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”

“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.

You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.

In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.

All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.

The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.

People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.

Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.

Eloise and You blinked.

“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.

The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.

When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.

“Besotted—?”

“Shut up!”

As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.

Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.

#eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #wlw #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine

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lady-ashfade · 15 days

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Eloise Bridgerton x reader! In which Eloise and the reader are friends and Eloise romantically likes the reader but is afraid to confess because she thinks she will be rejected (the reader likes her too, and sorry about the bad english, i'm using the translator 🥺)

Quite Telling

Eloise Bridgerton x Fem!reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 487

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: fluff and bit angst, pinning, short blurb.

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Book’s often portray love as butterflies in your stomach, flattering body that gets weak when you see someone, and a high feeling. Eloise hated the books about love because she didn’t care for it, thinking it was all a lie.

And now she wished she read more.

How was she supposed to get over her feelings of being near you, or seeing your smile or hearing your laugh. The pain she felt from holding herself back from the urge to kissing you was horrible. All she could ever think about was you and she was becoming crazy.

“Dear, are you alright?” Violet asked her daughter who was lost in her thoughts, standing still at the window as rain poured down on the ground. Eloise snapped out of it and grabbed the book that was now in her lap back up and gave a reassuring smile.

“No need to worry, it’s just a beautiful day.” A mother knows much about her children and violet knew her daughter well. Eloise was often to push away when she was going through things. But she could push her to talk about it, so she just smiled and nodded her head.

Just as the sun rises and breakfast was done, the routine of visiting you for morning walks was the thing that woke her up. Her head went fussy when you grabbed ahold of her arm and her heart spiked like crazy.

“There isn’t much my mama has been telling me lately. Each gentleman walking up to door is all the same and non have half the wits they think themselves to have.” rolling your eyes annoyingly, Eloise laughs at your remark.

“Thank the heavens I have no callers, the one thing whistledown gave me was keeping them away.” you glance at her, there was still spite in her voice.

“It’s their lose anyway, you’re a Bridgerton. Pretty and smart sounds like a amazing catch.” you giggle. her cheeks flush red and look away at the compliment you gave her.

Pretty? You think she’s pretty and smart.

“Might I ask you something?” Her mouth speaks on its own before she could stop herself. you humming in agreement and focus on the ground as you walk. ears ready to hear.

could you ever love her? the lump in her throat tighten as her stomach dropped. all she wanted to do was confess or give you a hint. why was it so hard? she shouldn’t be afraid of it. but looking at you and the way the sun cased it’s golden light on you, the beautiful smile on your lips. she couldn’t find the courage.

“Purple?” the excuse didn’t work out as she wanted. you turn your head in confusion to what she meant.

she was a fool. “Purple or Blue? A dress for me tonight.”

“Purple, I like that color on you.”

then she shall wear it for the rest of her days.

𐀔 please don’t repost my fics on other websites. This is my writing. And I don’t own the characters just y/n.

#Eloise Bridgerton x reader #Eloise Bridgerton x fem!reader #Bridgerton x reader #x fem!reader #Eloise Bridgerton blurb #Eloise Bridgerton imagine #Eloise Bridgerton #blurb #short blurb #Bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton

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hiatuswhore · 14 days

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.

Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.

“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”

“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.

”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.

”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.

”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”

”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”

“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.

“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for

her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”

Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”

”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.

Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”

“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.

You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”

”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.

“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.

“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.

Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.

Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”

”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.

Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”

“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”

”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”

“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.

“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”

At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.

“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”

You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.

It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.

“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”

“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.

“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.

“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.

“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.

“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”

Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”

”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”

Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.

You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.

Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.

Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.

“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.

A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.

Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.

“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.

Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.

“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.

”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“

“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”

“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.

“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.

“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.

“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.

“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”

”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”

”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.

“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.

“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.

“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.

“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.

”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.

“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.

“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.

After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.

”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.

“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”

”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.

“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.

“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to

be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.

“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.

“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.

“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.

“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”

Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”

You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.

Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.

Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.

”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.

Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”

“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.

“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”

Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”

Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.

“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”

”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.

“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”

”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”

You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”

”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.

A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”

”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.

“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.

“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.

The violins.

The flowers.

The gossip eager Ton.

The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”

“And I, with my best friend.”

You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.

A smudge on both of your reputations.

#bridgerton imagine #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #Bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton imagine #Anthony Bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagine #Daphne bridgerton imagine #Eloise Bridgerton imagine #Penelope featherington imagine #Kate Sharma imagine #Kathani Sharma imagine #Edwina Sharma imagine #bridgerton au #Bridgerton au imagine #Anthony bridgerton au #Francesca Bridgerton imagine

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nnightskiess · 19 days

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𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮...

₊° - 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧!𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

₊° - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the first preparations for the new season start, Elladine is filled with dread at the prospect of having to enter the beau monde and say goodbye to her childhood to welcome in the world of London's high society.

masterlist (soon), read the introduction that started it all

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

My dearest gentle readers, a new flock of eagerly anticipating young women, yearning to make an impression on the Ton, will soon step foot and enter the world of the beau monde, hopefully tightly clutching the arms of their new husbands in a few weeks time. Reflecting on the last two seasons, I will wait patiently to see if Dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton will succeed once more in finding one of her children a suitable match. The bar certainly is set high, seeing as her first daughter landed the attention of both a Duke and a Prince during her debut season and her firstborn seems as happy as ever. Will she succeed, or will she have to vie for a lord to pay attention to her daughters like Lady Featherington has done for years? And will Miss Featherington ever be freed from the horrible clothing she's put in? I, dear readers, surely cannot wait to see what this season has in store for us. I will watch with a keen eye to see how well our favourite Viscount and his Viscountess have fared over the year. I eagerly await their return to the beau monde now that they have to find Miss Eloise and, how else, following the Bridgerton’s alphabetic name tradition, her twin sister Miss Elladine, a husband. Exciting times, my dearest readers, but we can only sit tight and wait until the first ball of the season, where we will be shown exactly what kind of year this will shape to be. Of course, in the meantime, this writer will keep her eyes and ears open to all that will happen in our beloved Ton.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, APRIL 21 1816

Violet exhaled sharply through her nose when she read the words on the small pamphlet in her hands. The season hadn’t even started, and yet, Lady Whistledown had managed to speak of her and her family already. She had ploughed her way through the rumours and ill words directed to her, her family and her children once with Daphne’s debut, then again with the debacle Anthony had put himself in, but she already held her breath for the kind of things Eloise and Elladine would manage to get themselves into. Knowing her daughters well, she knew something was bound to happen. For now, she worried more about Eloise than Elladine. Although her precious daughters were both equal head-and-heart girls, they still held the fire each Bridgerton had, and they had been raised by one strong woman, not to forget. They had been less willing to bend and mend to the standards of the beau monde than she had hoped, and although at times it gave her evenings full of headache, she could not help but love the strength in her daughter’s characters. Eloise had made it clear time and time again, even before it had been her time to debut, how much she detested the prospect of what would be asked of her, the prospect of not having a choice in the matter either. She'd started throwing fusses whenever the subject had come up, she'd been blatantly rude to avoid having to talk to any man wanting a chat and she had even gone as far to escape social occasions more than once. Where Eloise’s protest had been loud and clear, Elladine’s true feelings about having to find herself a man had been less outspoken. Each time the subject would be brought up, she would visibly recoil and turn quiet, her eyes filling with a glassy melancholic look, the light in them no longer there. She had worn the dresses, learned the customaries and the dances and even done her best to entertain any man wanting to talk or dance with her, but Violet could see the intent was not there. Violet had then vowed to find a perfectly suited man to make the light in her daughter’s eyes return again. She knew it was possible, as she’d seen it happen to Daphne. There was a person for everyone out there, Elladine would be no exception. She deserved to know how euphoric love could be and Violet was going to help her realise that.

“Has she written about our ridiculous order of names again, Mama?” Elladine sighed from behind the easel, eyes not leaving her canvas.

“Of course, it’s only tradition,” Eloise teased, knowing exactly how the famed writer usually picked her words. She stopped flitting through her book and sat up to watch her twin sister focus on the canvas in front of her.

Despite being born mere minutes apart, the two couldn’t look more different from each other. Sure, they both had the thick familiar chestnut Bridgerton hair, but their cheekbones, noses, lips and even their eye colours differed. Where Eloise’s eyes were an earthy green, Elladine’s eyes were as sharp and light blue as those of her mother. No matter if a room was lit by merely a handful of candles or if she stood outside on Grosvenor Square in the harsh sunlight, her eyes would always be strikingly blue. Her blue doe eyes had been one of her most adorable features when she had been young, and they made many a head turn ever since she’d turned of age.

“She is getting rather boring and repetitive lately, don’t you think?” Eloise shrugged, not realising the foreboding irony her words would hold in a few weeks.

Violet’s head immediately snapped up, “Do not give the Lord any ideas on how to enliven her ridiculous paper.”

“Fine, I take it back.” Eloise softly muttered under her breath as she looked up to the ceiling, where a group of painted angels draped around vines looked down at her.

Now it was Elladine’s time to snort as she looked at her sister while smoothing out a thick blob of paint on her canvas. It was supposed to be the start of a bush full of red camellia, the flower that represented the painful yearning for love, something she had learned in a book from their library. She often looked for inspiration there, seeing as it was hard for her to venture out into the world as a young aristocratic woman.

Their butler announced himself as he stepped into the salon, “I have post for Lady Eloise and Lady Elladine,” He announced, handed the two ivory envelopes to Violet before taking his leave.

“It’s from Daphne,” Violet announced after seeing her daughter's familiar curly handwriting.

Elladine’s ears perked up at the mention of her oldest sister. Daphne had been their rock after their father had passed and their mother had isolated in her grief for a while. Like a true big sister, she had stepped up wherever she could, consoled the little ones, taken care of them with the help of the maids, let them cuddle up to her in bed and helped distract them together with Colin by playing music and putting on silly performances for the little ones in their salon. Daphne had been an everpresent tangible anchor for her, something to ground her and help her practice her resilience in hard times with kind affirmations. The day Daphne had left the Bridgerton house, had been one of the worst days so far, together with her father passing and when that dreaded letter had arrived to invite her for her debut. Elladine had looked up to Dapne all her life until her oldest sister had seemed so content being married off to a mere stranger and seeming to love the prospect of being a doting wife— all the things that made Elladine’s skin itch.

“Ella, dear, do wipe your hands before you come and open it.” Her mother pointed at the green and white smears of paint on them. Elladine held them away from her dress and quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe them off, knowing she would likely lose her head if her mother caught her with paint on it, something impossible to remove.

“You know, I think your dress is a bit too maiden-white, a bit of green would liven it up.” Eloise grinned to her sister and plucked the envelope out of her mother's hands.

The two sisters exchanged a knowing grin, especially when they saw their mother’s head shoot up at the suggestion. It had always been a bit like that— Eloise being the instigator and Elladine joining close in pursuit. But where Eloise had chaos rumbling closely beneath her chest, Elladine was usually more collected and aware of situations and repercussions. Even that simple knowledge was why Violet knew Eloise would be the biggest handful this season. Then again, where Eloise went, Elladine followed, what Elladine did, Eloise wanted to do, and vice versa. They’d been like this ever since birth, as was only normal for twin sisters, Violet had presumed. She adored it, though. But now, Lady Whistledown had mockingly practically placed them on the highest pedestal for all the Ton to watch and observe this season. Violet started to fan her face even thinking about what was to come and how her daughters would fare with that much attention on them.

Elladine excitedly snatched the letter away, tore the Duke’s seal apart and hastily opened the letter. The twins quickly scanned through the letters.

“Ah, it’s one of those.” Eloise spoke with a mouth full of distaste.

“Whatever are you talking about?” Elladine tried to take a peek at her sister’s letter, confused, as her letter had started off kindly with words about her nephew and the news of a renovational project of their estate.

Eloise rolled her eyes, “At least that means she did not just plainly copy them.”

“She wouldn’t, she knows us too well to realise we would open and read them together.”

Violet watched the two, “Well, what did she write?”

“That she wishes us a dreadful season and that she hopes we will find our life as married women accommodating and that we will walk off into the sunset with the second best man we can find.”

“She did no such thing-” Violet all but tried to grab the letter out of Eloise’s hands. At the mention of her older sister’s supposed well-wishes for their debut, Elladine fell quiet once more, like she had done so plenty of times already. She didn’t want to read the rest of her letter anymore, afraid it would bring up the subject again.

“I would rather become a spinster than ever make my debut.” Elladine snarked, voicing her disinterest out loud for once as she fumbled the letter back into its envelope and threw it on the table.

Violet looked at her through squinted eyes, “I don’t like your tone, Elladine.”

She withheld an eyeroll at her mother’s usual reply whenever one of her children went a little out of line. But while she would have giggled or grinned at it on any other occasion, it made her look at the floor and let her shoulders fall. Her mother was right. Daphne had written a kind letter in support of her debut fast approaching, and she hadn't even taken the time to read it through.

“I know it is a prospect you do not feel anything for, but know that all I wish for you is to be loved, adored and cared for. You two deserve to live as happy as I have. I won’t be around forever, and I do not wish you to be alone when I'm gone.” Although her words were soft-spoken and well-meant, her two bad-humoured daughters standing before her could not yet appreciate the intent of her words.

“Oh, we won’t be alone. We’ll have each other.” Eloise linked arms with Elladine, “First, we will go to University, to hell with those small-minded egotistical men who think it is no place for us. Then we will travel the world and inspire other like-minded women to break free from their shackles. Then we'll settle down somewhere and write and live off Anthony's wealth." Her eyes had a playful glint to them before she turned serious and sighed in exasperation, "We do not wish to be married when we will have each other and our books and travels, Mama.”

Elladine pulled her arm away from Eloise, “That’s what you want, why does it always have to be what you want?"

"I thought we wanted the same thing?!" Eloise huffed, arm pulling away, "Well, what do you want?"

Elladine fell silent, she realised she hadn't really dared to dream of her future when the only future she thought she would have, would be one she hated. And what kind of self-torture would it be to allow herself to daydream of a life she could never get anyway?

Even if it had been only momentarily, she could feel herself slip away into her worries again. She swallowed, "Um, I want to paint and play music... upkeep my own garden and live somewhere far away without the rules and obligations of the Ton and... to just be me.”

Eloise scrunched up her nose at that, ready to butt in and voice how boring it sounded compared to her ideal life.

“Girls.” Violet’s tone was a message in itself, but Elladine took it to heart and huffed before leaving the salon, ignoring the pleas of her mother. She headed directly to the stables, knowing her mother would never follow her there. Even if Eloise was the only one who could ever get remotely close to understanding how she felt, she still would never get it. No one would. The conversation she'd just had only further proved her point. Elladine wasn’t opposed to being loved, adored and cared for, to not be alone but to live with her person by her side, it was just… Well, what was it exactly? Why was something inside of her so opposed to the entire idea when she should feel happy and have some healthy nerves, like all the other girls starting their debut.

She balled her fists when she felt the familiar ache in her heart that no one would ever understand. Hells, she wasn’t even sure if she would ever understand her fears and reason behind her heartache. It wasn't like she could ask her family about it either, no matter how close they were. No, this felt like something she had to battle by herself.

The horses all turned their heads when she walked into the stable. Some continued to eat or turned back around, but not her own dark dapple grey mare— Cecille, who immediately lifted up her head. Elladine had gotten her when she was young, when Violet thought it would help her put her violin or brushes down and get her to go outside for some fresh air. Edmund's death had taken a toll on the entire family, plaguing each of her children and herself in a different way. Some turned rebellious, others had turned stoic, others had acted as if nothing had happened at all, but Elladine had locked herself up in her chambers. Violet had tried multiple things to lure her out, but it wasn't until she'd seen her daughter pet and talk to one of the coach's horses that she had made the decision. Elladine had hated the mandatory horseriding lessons at first, for all she wanted to do was practice her arts, but she could not deny that Cecille had in fact been the greatest gift she had ever gotten. No animal would ever utter an ill word about you, hold resentment or judge you for who you were. And somehow, Elladine just knew that her horse could see the true her. It was as if Cecille knew of all her dark secrets, yet she simply continued to look at her beneath those long eyelashes as if to say that everything would be alright, that she had a friend in her. Their home on Grosvenor Square, in the middle of Mayfair and in the heart of London, wasn't surrounded by much nature for Elladine to ease her heart and soul. So, the only place where she could hide and recharge and be completely by herself was the stables next to the coach house. Well, she also loved to furiously paint away with no clear vision in mind or play sonata upon sonata on her violin until the strings left painful marks on her fingers, so long that it drove everyone mad, but those weren’t options when all she wanted and needed to do was to flee their home. Sometimes she wished she was a simple girl who didn’t need a chaperone to accompany her whenever she wanted to step so much as even one foot out the door. It was just the life she was born into, and unfortunately for Elladine, that meant she had to make the biggest sacrifice of her life— to give up her life’s true happiness and be wedded off like cattle like any other aristocratic girl, just to appease their so beloved Ton.

Elladine grabbed the bucket with kitchen waste. She hoped that taking care of Cecille would soothe the fast hammering of her heart against her chest. She was so angry, furious even, but it was nothing Cecille could do anything about. The horse happily chomped through the bucket, but even seeing that did not seem to make the tension in her body vanish.

This time, Elladine didn’t care about dirtying her dress, and in protest even smeared the dirt and dust down her sides to clean her hands. Her mother would be furious, but so was she. It would be a fair exchange. And maybe, if she didn't have any dresses to wear, she could hide in her room some more. At least Eloise was an expert in openly speaking her mind, even having done so in front of the Queen last season, but Elladine didn’t have that type of guts. She often went about things a little more discreet. Instead, she showed her disdain on the matter through actions instead of Eloise's blurted words, and more often than not rebelled in ways that made her brothers chuckle and her mother sigh. Though Violet loved how all her children had a mind and character of their own, she also disliked how that meant they only influenced one another in that regard. Elladine was to be a fine example for her younger siblings, as Daphne had been for her- well, to a certain extent- she knew that, but it was so hard when her heart and her life were on the line.

The door behind her creaked open, and a sliver of sunlight shone through the stables.

“I would have preferred green above brown, but it’s a nice touch anyway.” Eloise pointed at the streaks of earthy dust on her sister's dress and approached.

Eloise would never immediately outright apologise, despite being so fiercely outspoken. Still, she knew she had hurt her sister, even if she hadn’t known the true depths of her words.

When no reply followed from her sister, Eloise shrunk, “I apologise… for putting words in your mouth… again.”

Elladine softly brushed Cecille’s main, who was still happily munching on the carrot presented to her.

“Ella?”

The girl beside her sighed. There was one thing Eloise and Elladine were good at besides complementing each other— making up after a fight. Even if their fights were never really fights, only mere bickers or a couple of eyerolls after a disagreement- because yes, those did happen often- they could never be mad at each other for more than an hour.

“I’m not mad at you.”

Eloise let out a visible sigh and her posture relaxed immediately. Elladine didn’t have to speak it out loud, for Eloise knew perfectly well what her sister was truly mad at.

“I know Daphne means well, but it just upsets me so.”

“She does.” Eloise nodded, knowing their older sister held them in her highest regard and would never write the things she had just to spite them or remind them of their hell.

“Why is it so hard for people to realise that their dream isn’t ours? Far from it, actually.”

“It’s the patriarchy, I am telling you.”

Elladine gave her sister a look, “It’s always the patriarchy in your eyes, El.”

“Because- It just always is!” Eloise spluttered, "They have spoken their beliefs and spread them like an epidemic, and now the world knows no better than the way it is! Look-” She pulled her sister away from the horse so her attention was solely focused on her, “We will just… stick together. Through it all. I promise to not walk out on you even if I would rather walk through a room of mouse traps than waltz one second during those balls.” Eloise grinned when she saw her sister’s expression soften.

“I will even agree to burp at least once each night to scare off any onlooker wanting to take us for a dance.”

Elladine softly shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, “No, El, you know it would hurt Mama. And taint our name.”

Eloise turned quiet, then her eyes glossed over and she grabbed her sister, “But else it would hurt you.”

The two sisters looked at each other. Feeling herself get too vulnerable, Eloise suddenly cracked a smile, “Of course, I also can’t imagine a life without you by my side, and marrying means we would not see each other for long periods of time.”

“Ah, so in the end, it’s an entirely selfish reason?”

“It appears so.”

They grinned at each other with innocent mischief in their eyes. Elladine wiped the lone tear from her nose that she hadn’t realised had fallen from her eye until it had tickled.

“Although you will have to face Mama on your own or she will likely blame me for that hideous stain on your dress.”

“I thought you liked it?”

“Brown’s never been my favourite colour.”

Elladine made a face at her as Eloise pulled her out of the stables and gave her an encouraging push towards the house.

“She’s still in the salon.” Eloise jumped when one of the horses kicked against their stable door, quickly taking her leave and going to the Featherington's.

With her head held high, Elladine entered the salon again. She was never one to admit defeat easily, nor show her true emotions. She couldn’t afford to show what was truly within, not if she wanted to stop her mother from worrying.

Violet stood with Daphne’s letter behind the canvas, taking in the swipes and colours. Violet looked up and smiled softly at her daughter when the door opened, and opened her arm,

“Elladine, come, my dear.”

Elladine walked over and let herself get pulled into her mother’s safe embrace, the place that could always comfort her, even now.

Violet knew of her daughter’s variety of talents, as she had been the one behind the pursuit of most of them, but the vision of this current project was lost on her. She tried her best to mask her confusion when she spoke, “Do tell me what your newest painting will be?”

“It will be a field filled with camellias, like the ones back at the estate during summer.” Violet’s eyes twinkled and the apples of her cheeks lifted up into a warm smile, “I found an encyclopaedia in the library and used reference pictures.” Knowing what conversation was to come next, Elladine quickly continued talking, “I shall clean up now. I don’t think I will be able to put much more work in before dinner anyway.” Not knowing what to say next, she peered at the letter in her mother’s hands. Daphne’s letter to her. “She said that Auggie’s speaking his first few sentences.”

Violet smiled kindly, but knew her daughter was stalling. She pulled the both of them on the couch, “Come, sit.” But then she gasped when she saw the ruined dress.

“Elladine Bridgerton-” She started, knowing very well that this was another one of her rebellious outburst.

“I went to the stables.” Was all Elladine said.

Violet held the bridge of her nose. Her children were a handful, but she couldn’t deny that she loved every second of still having them around.

“No matter, we’ll talk of this later, but first I want to talk about something else. It’s been inevitable.”

“Do we have to, Mama?” Elladine sighed softly.

“It is important I tell you this, my love.”

Elladine looked at her, but her eyes held a certain kind of rebellious spirit in them that Violet couldn’t help but grin at— she recognised her younger self in her daughter. She pushed a fallen lock of hair behind her daughter's ear before lovingly cupping her cheeks,

“You are my everything, Elladine, all eight of you have my whole heart, which is why it is so deeply important for me to know you will be fine should I no longer be around, to see you happy, to rest assured knowing you are taken care of, that you are adored and loved.”

Elladine opened her mouth to say something, but Violet gave her a look,

“Your protests haven’t gone unnoticed, but don’t you ever for a second think that I am willingly putting you through what you see as pure torment.” Violet grazed her daughter’s cheeks with her thumb before dropping her hands back to her lap. So young, so innocent yet so full of fire and determination. Her girls were growing up, but she couldn’t help but realise that even if the Ton found them the right age, they weren't ready yet. She too hated how her children couldn’t slowly learn to live their lives and then stumble upon their great love along the way, instead of having to find a match within a few weeks with the pressure of the society weighing them down. But that was just the way it was, how it always had been, and how she had found her dear Edmund as well. Their offspring were visible proof that it was possible.

“I know it’s scary and I know you feel pushed into a corner, but I am afraid that this is just how it is for us women. But don’t fear, my love, I found your father, Anthony found his lovely Kate and Daphne found her doting Simon. You will find your happy ever after as well with a husband made just for you, I can assure you.”

Elladine was silent for a while, letting her mother’s words hit and giving them a place in her head, “But I don’t want to.”

In this moment, with the slight quiver of her lips, furrowed brows and big blues looking up at her, as Elladine tried her best to hide her emotions, Violet couldn’t help but see a four-year-old Elladine sit in front of her. She pulled her in her arms and planted a kiss on her daughter’s hair, “Oh, my darling girl.”

The disappearance of the light in Elladine’s eyes as of late hadn’t gone unnoticed, and neither had the mood shifts and her rebellious behaviour, but Violet made herself a promise then and there, that she would do everything to ensure her daughter’s happiness. After all, there was a perfect person out there for everyone.

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“Miss Elladine?” Her maid entered her bedroom, where Elladine had been playing her violin for three hours straight up until this interruption. She was grateful that her family had let her this time around. “Pardon me, but your friend Lady Lillian is here.”

Elladine dropped the violin to her lap. She knew Lillian would never visit on a Wednesday morning, for she would always take a stroll with her siblings through Kensington Gardens. This had her mother written all over.

“There she is.” Lillian’s voice echoed through the Bridgerton hall as Elladine walked down the stairs to her best friend. Although Eloise and Elladine were as thick as thieves, they did not share the same friends. Where Eloise had found a friend in their neighbour Penelope, Elladine had gravitated towards Lillian, whose mother was a close friend of Violet. They were close in age, with Lillian just two years older than herself. Lillian had long undergone the first steps into the Ton and had married during her first season. Now she happily lived with her lord husband in Kensington, together with their two pomeranians and their newborn son. Lillian had flourished from a young, insecure girl into a woman of status. Though she didn’t quite grasp what there wasn’t to love about marrying a loving lord and having his children, she did feel sympathy whenever she saw how deeply Elladine was affected by it all.

“I feel like it is the perfect weather for a nice stroll around Hyde Park, do you not?” She grasped her friend’s hands and gave them an encouraging squeeze, trying to turn Elladine’s frown upside down.

“But what of your family?”

Lillian only waved her off, “They see me all day long, having to miss me for an hour or two should not be the end of the world. Besides, I want to steal you away one last time before all the bachelors of the Ton will.”

Elladine gave her a look which Lillian brushed off by dragging her friend outside, their two maids following suit as they walked onto Grosvenor Square. The sunlight blinded Elladine, and the sudden hustle and bustle of the street rammed into her head like a carriage. Lillian had her arm linked with hers as she led the two west, to Hyde Park, where it would no doubt be swarming on this gorgeous Spring day.

“Did Mama write to you?” Elladine wondered, looking up at her friend to gauge her reaction. Lillian only side-eyed her, her face stoic, before her eyebrows dropped and a guilty expression took over.

“You know I cannot lie to you. Yes, she did.”

Elladine groaned, “About how pathetic I have been lately, I’m sure.”

Lillian laughed, “Well, she used kinder words, but yes.”

Elladine gasped at her friend’s jest and bumped her hip, almost making Lillian collide with the nearest bystander. They both started grinning as the old man dipped his head.

“How’s little Oliver?”

“Growing heavy, but very healthy.”

They came to a stop on Park Lane, letting the carriages pass through before entering Hyde Park.

Lillian continued, eyes flitting across the many women walking with their young children or pushing their strollers, “It’s all going so fast. It feels like it was ages ago when I gave birth.”

Elladine patted her friend’s hand and tugged her closer as a carriage passed them, “You are a wonderful mother, and I’m sure you will be blessed with more children in the future.”

A wickedly broad smile took over Lillian’s face as she pulled Elladine back to stand still. Elladine eyed her friend, confused, then watched as Lillian slowly rested her hands on her belly.

Elladine stopped and gaped at her like a fish.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Perplexed, Elladine put her hands to her mouth. Lillian laughed at her friend’s reaction and let herself be wrapped in Elladine's arms.

“But Ollie is merely five months old!”

“I know! We’re both over the moon!”

“Lillian!” Elladine gasped again, head still not fully registering it all, “But how- how is that even possible so quickly again?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Lillian sighed, knowing Elladine would find out on her own one day, "The female body is a wonder!" She only said as she hooked her arm around Elladine's again and continued their stroll, their maids still following along behind them. But Elladine was still stuck on her friend's words. The comment had felt patronising in a way, and it had made her feel too stupid to bring it up and risk making an even bigger fool of herself.

They walked for half an hour in the shade of the many trees, before circling back around and exiting the park near Constitutional Hill— the road that led to where the Queen’s newest palace was being built, and what would lead you to her current one when you followed The Mall— St. Jame’s Palace, the awful place that would kickstart her entire nightmare on the day for the debutantes.

Right as the women were about to cross the road, people started to gasp, yell, wave, stop and stare. They stood back, watching as a cavalry shepherd the Queen's familiar golden coach through the streets. Royal guards sat atop their stallions, but even if people called out to greet their Queen, it was not Queen Charlotte who Elladine saw through the reflection of the glass. It was a young girl who sat caged inside the coach, looking at the world outside of it. Just then, Elladine could have sworn that the girl's eyes landed on those of her own, but before she could make that claim, the coach had passed them already.

Apparently, Lillian had also realised it wasn’t Queen Charlotte that the carriage was transporting. She nudged her friend, “A royal visit at the dawn of a new season? I bet you it’s another Prince or Princess wanting to see the finest ware in London."

She giggled, but Elladine barely reacted, for it was another blow to her heart to remind her of the one thing she was desperately trying to forget— the season was about to start.

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The Salon was filled with an aroma of scalding tea and the cook’s latest pastries to properly welcome their guests. Madame Delacroix hurried through the room with dresses in her hand and held them up to Elladine’s chest.

“Non, too yellow.” Then she tried the other, “Non, too dark. Hmm, but this one brings out your complexion so perfectly, Mademoiselle Bridgerton.”

“Oh, yes.” Violet immediately agreed and nodded approvingly, loving how her daughter’s chestnut hair matched with the green. Elladine’s eyes flashed to those of Daphne and Eloise, who sat beside her on the couch, one with an unamused glint on her face, the other with eyes full of pride.

“It’s a wonderful colour, Ella. I love it with your eyes.” Daphne complimented, glad she had travelled to London to witness it all.

Madame Delacroix kept the dress up to her chest, expectantly. Elladine cleared her throat, “Yes, I prefer this one over the yellow one.”

Kate, who sat beside Violet nodded in agreement and took a sip of her tea, grinning slightly as she saw Eloise try to make her twin laugh by mocking Madame Delacroix and her handful of dresses.

“And how about this one-” She hurried back to her coffers and pulled out a deep blue dress. “I was not sure if it would be too dark for your fair skin, but let’s see-” She mumbled and pulled it up to her figure.

A few gasps were heard.

“My, Ella, you look like a wonderful lady in that one.”

"I like that one," Hyacinth blurted out through a mouthful.

“C’est magnifique. Mysterious too, non?”

Elladine’s eyes glanced at herself in the mirror, before they landed on Eloise, who sat slouched on the couch, wishing she were anywhere but here— she would be up next.

“Yes, perfect,” Eloise added absentmindedly after being nudged by Daphne. She sat up straight with a sigh, realising Elladine needed a little more confirmation from her, “Both are great, but the light green one makes you look young, whereas the deep blue one feels more mature. Either way, you look beautiful in both.”

Violin looked greatly surprised at the genuine reply, but quickly turned pleased— it seemed that Eloise's attempt to comfort her sister had worked.

“If I might have a say-” Kate leaned forward and touched the fabric in Madame Delacroix’s hands, “Start with the light green one. A soft shade is easy on the eyes and is a nice symbolic shade to start off the season. Yes, you want to stand out, but doing so on the first nights might not be exactly what you’re looking for.” She hinted at the dark colour of the dress, knowing most debutantes stayed with light pastel colours to mirror their innocence, “Wear the deep blue one once you’ve stabilised your place and feel more at ease. Besides, it is quite mysterious, it might make your suitors take the last leap.” She smiled heartedly, with a naughty glint in her eyes.

Everyone looked to Elladine for the final answer.

“Then I’ll take both on top of the others we liked.”

“Perfect, Lady Bridgerton, I’ll start adjusting them right away. Now, for the casual gowns-” She opened another set of coffers. Elladine loved getting new dresses, but not when she knew she had to wear these to a ball she didn’t want to go to and wear them for a man she never wanted to impress.

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Dear readers, it seems that our season is off to a magnificent start with the arrival of Spanish Crown Prince Felipe and his equally beloved twin sister Princess Graciela, both descendants of our King's line through their mother. It can only be assumed that His Grace is looking for a possible suitor for his future throne, seeing that he has reached the acquired age for a betrothal and his otherwise rather unusual timing to visit the Ton. Now we can only wonder who will turn his head. But before we lose ourselves to the speculation of the matter, all eyes will first be focused on this year's debutantes. Who will be the Ton’s newest Diamond? And will the Prince agree with the Queen’s decision?

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, APRIL 29 1816

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☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆* tagged: @alohastitch0626 @crimeshowjunkie @thatgirljas13 @hauntedfictionland

#bridgerton!sister #bridgerton fic #bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton imagine #bridgerton!sibling #bridgerton x sister #bridgerton x sibling #bridgerton fanfic

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wlw-imagines · 1 year

Text

Go Home - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)

request: another eloise request…since you’re into writing angst how about lady Whistledown hinted at the reader’s sexuality so reader breaks up with Eloise for her safety?? (Adore your writing and Eloise is my fav!!!) - anon

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. that's all i have to say.

also part one of 2, exciting times!!!

also warning i guess of like era homophobia :-( also pen is v clearly pro lgbt i strongly believe but here she is just trying to protect a friend, i am certain she loves the gays

ALSO kind of spoilers if u haven’t finished season 2 i think?

FEAT. ANTHONY AS BIG BRO

You shielded the bright sun from your eyes, looking up to see Penelope walking over and taking the empty seat next to Eloise, “The day I no longer have to endure the excruciating pain of finding a husband may be the happiest day of my life.” She slumped back into the chair, after completing a quick search to ensure her mother wasn’t watching her.

You grinned, gently resting your hand on the arm of the chair, subtly linking your pinkie with Eloise’s, “I take it the stroll wasn’t a successful one then Pen?” You asked, sipping from your glass of cold lemonade.

Pen hesitated, “Mother did very well in succeeding scaring off all potential suitors left in the ton, if that’s what you mean?” She smiled and shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts from the walk, “What have the two of you been up to? I didn’t see either of you taking a walk?” She asked. You caught her gaze briefly flicking down to your hands and you cleared your throat, bringing your hand away from Eloise’s, and shifted in your seat.

“Oh, gosh no, I’ve been spending a blissful afternoon sitting right here with Eloise. We’ve been setting the world to rights, haven’t we?” You looked at her to see her already gazing at you, her eyes soft as she nodded.

“We have.” She smiled a secret smile, immediately making you think of your murmured conversations just 10 minutes ago. You did your best to stop the blush from settling on your cheeks, although (judging by Penelope’s thoughtful expression) you don’t think you had done a good enough job.

You cleared your throat again, shaking off the feeling of unease, and shrugged, “No better way to spend my day than with the Bridgerton clan.”

“Maybe if you like the company of them so much then you should set your sights upon marrying one.” Pen mused, raising a challenging eyebrow at you. Surely you weren’t imagining this - had Eloise told her something?

But Eloise was still blissfully in her own world, her soft gaze still tracking your movements and her chin in the palm of her hand. “I am telling you right now Y/N, you are not to marry one of my brothers!” She grinned and you playfully roller your eyes at her.

“Well, I can think of only one Bridgerton I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with and I will never say who.” You told her, once more forgetting who’s company you were in until Pen let out a terse reply.

“I see.” She sent you a thin-lipped smile.

You smiled back at her, a proper smile in the hopes of mending any bridges that have seemed to break in recent days. Pen hasn’t been happy around you for a while. Eloise doesn’t think she knows, and even if she did, would be supportive of the two of you, but you can’t put your finger on what’s happening.

You went to stand up, “I should go, my Papa will be expecting me.”

“No, don’t go.” Eloise jumped up to join you, “Do you want company?”

You squeezed her hand and let her go before turning so Pen would not see the two of you holding hands, “No, El, you stay here with Pen and enjoy the sunshine. I don’t see why we should both have to miss out on all the fun.”

“I am sure we are capable of making our own fun.” She attempted an almost-wshiper but failed to hit the mark. You just hoped that Pen, or anyone else, had heard the not-so-subtle remark.

You winced as Pen spoke up, “As long as you can escape the watchful eye of the ton.” You sent her another placating smile and nodded.

“Right, yes, quite.” You took a deep breath, gathering your skirts.

“Whistledown is always watching.” Pen shrugged, a cautious eye flickering between you and Eloise.

“She is utterly wonderful thanks to her wide expanse of knowledge but alas, I doubt I am interesting enough to feature in her paper.” You nod towards her.

She shrugged, “You never know.”

“Well, I’ll frame it on the wall if I do get a feature and I will sign everyone’s copies.” You grin, trying desperately to win Pen over to your side again.

Eloise wrapped her hand around your arm and smiled, “I’ll be first in line.”

“Of course.” You smiled, sending her a look of gratitude, hoping it conveyed everything you wanted it to, and more, “I should go.”

“Okay, okay, yes. Go home and be safe.” She stops herself just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, her eyes slightly wide with alarm at her own almost mistake, “I will see you soon.” She quickly rearranged the panicked-look into a smile, waving you off.

“And I will look forward to that moment.” You nodded, before waving to Penelope too, “Bye, Pen!” And leaving the pair to their own devices.

Pen watched as you left, looking across the Eloise and watching how her gaze followed you until you were out of sight, “Since when have you become so close to Y/N?”

“Oh, not that long, not really.” Eloise quickly looked away from the space that Y/N had last occupied, and smiled at her friend.

“And so damning of Lady Whistledown? I thought you were still excited and trying to find out who she was?”

Eloise nodded, “I am! Not that I’ve got any further than last we spoke. I don’t know... it’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it?” She smiled, in her own little world, as she slumped back in her chair. Relaxing in the sunshine and watching the people of the ‘Ton pass by.

“I suppose.” Pen eventually shrugged. She wtached El in silence for a few moments and then leaned forward, a worried frown on her face, “Is there anything you want to tell me? As your friend. You can tell me anything. Anything at all.” She put her hand on Eloise’s.

“What’s with all the questions!” Eloise laughed, taking a sip of lemonade.

Pen let out the breath she was holding and sat back in her chair, “Sorry, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” She glance to El, once more, “And I’m worried about you.”

Eloise shook her head, “There is nothing to be worried about. I promise you. I have never been better. Honestly.”

What Penelope wanted to say was that she had become increasingly aware of Y/N’s intentions. What if Eloise got too attached? What if the ‘Ton caught wind of Y/N’s attachment to Eloise and the Bridgerton’s got dragged down into the dangerous rumours too? Eloise would never survive the accusations.

Perhaps Penelope had to take things into her own hands, before the two did something particularly dangerous, like fall in love.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Y/N?” Eloise’s voice echoed through the hall. You slowly lifted your gaze from the window, dragging it to the door, “Y/N?” She called again and your heart broke. Since reading the Whistledown this morning, you knew this moment would have to happen. You were hoping you could have put it off for longer. “Toby let me in.” Her frustrated tone pierced through the door. You could hear your butler do his best to convince her to leave but- “Did you... have you seen-?” She asked, bursting through the door. Toby stood in the doorway, looking apologetic but you just brushed him away. He sent you one last worried look and bowed, closing the door for your privacy,

You nodded, “It came through this morning.” You croaked, blinking slowly. You didn’t know that life could stop so suddenly. You could hardly believe your eyes when Toby had insisted you get up immediately and had carefully passed you the small piece of paper.

He had held you for most of the morning as you wept.

Eloise stopped in front of you, not entirely sure of what to do with herself. She crouched in front of you, hand on your knees, “Are you okay, my love?” When you didn’t answer, she gently reached her hand up to your cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and abruptly stood up. “I- I’m okay.” You had to get away from her. She shouldn’t even be here. You were angry with her. Or were you? You couldn’t tell. You were so confused and tired and sad. But you knew that her being here was a stupid mistake. What would people say once they knew she was in your company, alone.

“As soon as I saw it, I had to come over.” She rushed out, her eyes watery and her hand still grasping a crumpled up version of the gossip. You turned away.

“Eloise.” You forced out her name. How could even her name be ruined for you? How dare they take that from you?

You flinched as her hand rested at the bottom of your back, “I needed to see you and make sure you were okay.”

“Eloise.” You shook her head and tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You couldn’t say it. You wanted, just for one moment, to be selfish. You loved her. You will always love her. How could you leave her? But you couldn’t be selfish. You loved her too much for that.

“Mother doesn’t know I’m here though, because-” She hesitated and forced her fingers to ungrip the gossip. She looked up at you as fresh tears formed but she quickly rubbed away the tears and threw the paper into the fire. You pretended not to see it, “well, that doesn’t matter.” She clenched her hands into fists so you wouldn’t see them shake, but you did. Was it fear? Anger? You closed your eyes.

“Eloise, I can’t see you anymore.” You managed to whisper out. The fire crackled and had swallowed your words.

She stepped closer, “Pardon?” She looked so worried, she was worried about you. You strugled to breath.

You turned away again but spoke louder so you wouldn’t have to say it again, “We can’t be together like this anymore. I’m not... I don’t want this anymore.” You shook your head, looking out of the window, trying to imagine you weren’t here, you weren’t doing this, you were happy.

“Want what?” Her voice was quiet now, and she hadn’t followed you this time.

“Eloise, listen!” You turned sharply, “You have to understand.”

“Understand?” Her breathing had sped up and she shook her head, “Well... understand what?” You couldn’t tell if she truly didn’t understand or was being willfully ignorant. She was a clever girl, your Eloise. You shook your head. Not your Eloise. Just Eloise.

“I no longer wish to see you, Miss Bridgerton.�� You tried to hold your head high and keep your voice even.

She frowned and squinted at you, “And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?”

“I am sure I can only say this once.” Your voice shook again. So much for keeping the voice even, “Please, we can’t be together. I do not want to see you... ever again.” You gazed at the fire, refusing to make eye contact.

Eloise hummed, “You mean you do not want to be seen with me.” She said softly, correcting you.

“No, I-”

She interruped, “It’s two very different things.” she stepped between you and the fire, cutting your gaze off. Your eyes landed on her hands again. She was wearing your ring. You heart fell that bit further.

“El-”

Now she was desperate. Her hands started moving as she spoke, “Of course, we’re never going to want to be seen together but we can still-”

“Eloise! Stop.” You felt like a petulant child, who wasn’t getting their own way. “Stop it! I have simply...” You gritted your teeth, “I’ve moved on.”

Her face fell. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t- you didn’t want to do this anymore. She took a breath, and in a very small voice, asked, “You have... moved on?”

You averted your gaze to the garden again. This time insisten that you would see this through. This was what you had to do. “This was nothing but a brief dalliance. I am sorry if I ever hinted otherwise.” You looked at the trees in the garden, the one you were so fond of when you were little. You would spend hours climbing, falling, painting, climbing again. You kept focused on that, on happier times.

“Dalliance?” You could hear the anger coming through now, “I’m not dim. I read the entirety of the latest Whistledown. I saw everything...” She faltered for words. “What was published means nothing to me, Y/N. My love,” You winced again, “I know you. The gossip changes nothing. I don’t care if I am seen with you, I-”

You shook your head, you needed another route. She knew you too well, "The gossip in the Whisledown is a separate matter, it is not... it has nothing to do with this, Eloise.”

“You’re being quite serious.” She stopped in her tracks.

Your gaze switched to the swing your brother had built for you when you were young, you distracted your mind with memories of those days. Days before Eloise. You survived then. You could survive now. The days after Eloise. Was that how your life would be mapped out? “Yes.”

“You cannot do this. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t... allow it?” You turned around to face her.

“This is not you. Not the Y/N I know.” She was moving again, right in front of you with her hands cradling your cheeks and her forehead on yours. You did all you could not to cry, “I know you Y/N. I have got to know you in so many ways. I love you.” A tear escaped and she sniffled, angry once more with herself for letting her tears fall.

“What else do you want from me? Eloise? What more can I say?” You whispered, you didn’t have the energy. You felt like you could hardly stand.

“I want you- Darling, I want you to be honest with me. Tell me what is going on inside that head of yours. You cannot push me away.” She had broken now, tears were stubbornly spilling from her eyes.

“I’ve only ever been honest with you, Eloise.” You spoke softly. And that was the truth. Until today.

“And do I not get a say in the matter?” She asked, voice breaking.

You closed your eyes. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“It cannot be changed? That I am nothing to you?” She whispered.

“No.” You shut your eyes even more. But instead of blocking things out, it only brought images. Like a book opening before your eyes, full of memories, full of Eloise. You groaned in frustration and pulled away.

“We could... you could come visit me, in the country. We could be together there, without worry. If it’s the ‘Ton that worries you.” She hiccupped and pulled you in again, she wiped your face, wiping away tears you hadn’t even realised were there, “We could leave tomorrow.” She intertwined your fingers, pulling you closer to her.

“You need to go.” You whispered.

She kissed your brow, “We could leave now.” She moved her hands, still intertwined with yours, to your cheeks and kept her lips to your cheek.

“Go home, Eloise. Please.” She shook her head, pressing a kiss to both eyes, and to your nose three times.

“I love you.” She trembled, “Tell me. Look me in the eye, Y/N, and tell me you do not have love for me. That you do not love me - as I love you.” She forced you to sit and knelt in front of you, as she had when she first arrived.

“Just-”

Her hands squeezed yours, “Say it.” She challenged. A new steel in her voice.

“El-”

She squeezed your hands harder, “Do not ignore my request.”

“You need to-”

“Y/N.” She let go. You moved from the chair and to the floor, sitting in front of her.

You put your hand to her cheek now, and said as softly as you could, “Go home, El. I will not say it again.”

“Then do not say it again, and I will stay.” She looked at the floor, refusing to meet your gaze.

“I-” Her eyes snapped to yours, and you looked down, “do not love you.”

She leant forwards, “I asked you to look me in the eye and-”

“Eloise, I-” You dragged your eyes to hers. You couldn’t do this. How could you0 “I do not love you.” You said.

You watched a shift of emotions in her eyes, and there was a long period of silence. Eventually, she leaned back, stood up and took a deep breath, “Y/N,” You prepared yourself for the worst, to hear her say something awful. As you have said hurtful things to her. For her to leave, which is what you supposeduly wanted. You couldn’t watch her go, “I just do not believe you.”

You pushed yourself up off the floor, “I have done everything you have asked of me!” You shouted.

“It is truly what you want?” She asked back, her voice rising to match yours.

Before all hell could break lose, Toby knocked on the door. You turned away, back to looking out the garden.

“Miss Y/L/N? Lord Bridgerton is here.” He said, and you sighed, body tensing up.

Eloise spoke softly once more, “He- my brother?” She asked, in disbelief.

“Send him in.” You tried to sound commanding, but all that came out was a weak request and a tremble in your voice.

“Miss Y/L/N,” You turned and he briefly bowed to you, “Eloise, we’ve been looking all over for you. It is late. You should come home.” He said, curtly.

Eloise gathered her emotions together, “Brother, I am perfectly capable of visiting my friends, thank you very much. We are simply... discussing the latest gossip.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, but she nodded to her brother, “You may leave, I will follow shortly.”

He glanced at you, before striding over to his sister and grabbing her arm. He whispered, angry, but you could still hear, “You will do well to remember what Mother said.” He gritted his teeth, “This is inappropriate. You are being childish.”

“I did not feel in need of your accompaniment, brother, so I do not understand why you are even here.” Her voice was angry once more.

“You know perfectly well why I am here.” The tone perfectly matched Eloise’s.

“Oh? Well, please, elaborate.”

“Eloise, I am your brother. You will do as I say.”

You were suddenly immeasurably tired. Both you and Mr Bridgerton wanted the same thing. You put your trust in him that he would get his way quicker than you would.

“The two of you may remain here and squabble all you like. I will depart to bed.” You said, hardly glancing at either of them as you passed.

Eloise went to move towards you, “Y/N-”

Anthony bowed his head as you passed, “Miss Y/L/N-”

Just before leaving you turned and looked Eloise in the eye, “Go home, Miss Bridgerton, and be safe. Do not think of me. That is all I can ask of you.” You sent her a pleading look with your eyes, praying she listened. “Lord Bridgerton.” You bowed your head to him and closed the door behind you.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a soft knock on your door. You chose not to respond.

The knock sounded out again, a few minutes later, “Miss Y/N?”

You groaned and tore the soft blankets from over your head. “What is it Toby?” You called out, gaze settling on thpacked bags at the end of your bed.

“Lord Bridgerton has requested your presence.” He called out, voice as soft as his knock. You winced at the title.

You sighed, rolling over, “Send him away, please.”

Toby hesitated, “I told him as such myself. I’m afraid he has insisted on waiting in the library.” He finally admitted.

“Well then, you can tell him that he can do what he likes but I will not be seeing him.” You gritted your teeth and covered your head with the blankets once more.

“Y/N, I do not think he will go without a fight.” Your butler’s voice was muffled through the sheets covering your head.

You screwed up your eyes in frustration and shouted out, “I will not see him, Toby.” Then took a deep breath and unclenched, already feeling sorry for your reaction to the man who was more like your father than the biologoical one you had, “I’m sorry, I- please, I cannot.”

“I will try again.” He promised.

“Thank you.” You whispered after he had gone. You pulled yourself into a tight ball and wept again.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You had waited all day, knowing that you had a visitor yet hoping that he would, essentially, fuck off.

Toby had been coming in at intermittent priods to give you updates but they were pretty much all, ‘Lord Bridgerton still waits in the library’ and you telling him to tell him to ‘fuck off but please phrase it a more palatable way’. Unfortunately, the Bridgerton hadn’t seemed to get the hint.

You sighed and sat up in bed. You could wait him out but a bit part of you fully believed that he would say all night and then, when you tried to leave for Frankfurt the next morning, he would follow you all he way their until he had got what he came for. He was like his sister in that way.

You gritted your teeth. How many time would you have to tell a member of this family to just leave you alone. You’re just trying to keep them safe, don’t they get it?

Finally, after meditating on it a while, you got up. Your lady’s maid had put out a dress, just in case you had wanted to talk with him, but you wanted this over and done with. If he insisted on talking to you, then let’s make this as difficult for him as possible.

You’d speak to him in your sleeping garments. On your terms.

You stomped down the stairs, going back to stomp on a stair again if you felt it hadn’t been loud and angry enough the first time.

Toby couldn’t help but smile as he saw you, well- heard you first, and he bowed his head as he opened the door.

“You have a great deal of patience, Lord Bridgerton.” You glared at him, sitting in your chair, your favourite spot in the library. He practically jumped out of his skin, dropping the piece of literature he had been entertaining himself with as he waited. “Did I say you could read my books?”

He looked you up and down and averted his gaze, looking slightly stricken. He snapped the book shut and put it down on the table.

Anthony stood up and bowed his head, “I, uh, wanted to speak with you.”

“I do not wish to do so with you. You may leave now.” You all but snarled, showing him the way to the door.

He paused and frowned, “I will wait here until you agree to talk.”

“Then you will be waiting a long time.” You shrugged, turning around to walk back to the door.

“I can stay here all night.” He called after you.

“And I will be gone in the morning.” You spoke, hand on the door knob, willing yourself to leave, now. You weren’t even meant to warn him that you were leaving.

He faltered for a moment, “Gone?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, more with yourself than him, and turned back towards him, stepping away from the door, “Tomorrow I leave for the continent. My brother will be waiting for me in Frankfurt.” You spoke evenly for the first time in days, “My father organised it all.” The spite returned back to your voice. You hated the man, but you accepted that the change of scenery would do you good.

“And Eloise...?” Anthony blinked a few times, lost for words.

You shook your head, “Doesn’t know.”

He frowned, “Perhaps she should.”

You already felt the familiar prickle of tears at the back of your eyes and bit your tongue to keep them at bay.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, quietly, resigned.

He sat, slowly, as if to not scare you off, “I- I just have some questions.”

“I am not interested in answering them.” You said and yet you found yourself sitting in the open seat opposite him, your father’s chair.

“Eloise-” You audibly winced at the name and Anthony quickly took note, trying to move on, to keep you talking. “You and her.”

“I am sure you have seen the papers. I could not continue a,” You hesitated as yet another li escaped your lips. It seemed all you could do now. “friendship with your sister after what has been spoken of me.”

He nodded, a look of deep thought crossed his face and he turned his gaze directly to you, a soft gaze, almost a gaze of brotherly love. Your chest ached again, “You saw a lot of one another.”

You hesitated, waiting for the trick. But sighed and nodded, “We did.” Giving him no more information.

He shook his head, “Don’t make me say it.”

“We were friends.” You gritted out.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking, Miss Y/L/N.” He sat his weight forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he look at you with his brow wrinkled.

“Then what are you asking, Lord Bridgerton?” You asked, terse once more.

“Were you...?” He dropped off, hoping that you’d understand what he was trying to get across without actually having to speak the words.

You lifted your chin stubbornly, “No.”

He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands, “I shouldn’t have asked for I already know the answer to that. I should have recognised the looks you gave one another. From the very beginning...” He sat back in the chair again. You looked at him, really looked at him. He was tired, lost, confused. He was in pain. “She’s not been the same since your last... conversation.”

Not in the same kind of pain you were in. You gritted your teeth again as your heart dropped, “That’s not a question.”

“No,” He was watching you, just as you were him. You felt vulnerable and wished you had just left the room when you had the chance. Now, the mention of her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. He was your last connection to her, “I thought you should know, is all.”

“Anthony-” You pondered how to phrase it, how to say it, what tone to take. “I have done what I needed to in order to protect Elo- to protect your sister. Now you are duty bound in continuing to protect her.” You gaze intensified, “As her brother-”

“As her brother! I would do anything for my family- for my sister.” He interjected, a split second of anger at the suggestion that he is not doing all he should.

“Then get her a best kind of husband. One that will respect her wishes and treat her kindly.” You pleaded. You knew that’s not what she wanted. How could you disrehard her wishes so?

“What if that's not what she wants?” Your gaze flickered up to his. He knows. He cna protect her. “Not what would make her happy?” The same flare of anger that had just struck Anthony moments ago now struck you hot.

You stood up over him, “Do you think I am happy?” You bit out, digging your fingernails into your palms. Don’t you dare cry, Y/N, you thought to yourself. “Look at me! Do you think it filled my heart with joy to have to lie to her? To look her in the eyes and deny all feelings of my love for her?” Your voice wobbled and your pressed your palms even tighter, “Do you think I enjoy hearing of her misery?” Your voice broke and you took a deep breath, carefully unfurling your fingers to see little indentations in your palms.

Anthony was gazing at the floor, chin in hand, deep in thought, seemingly unaffected by your outburst, “You did what you had to.” He summarised for you.

“Yes.” You whirled around again, “Yes! To prevent scandal to your family name, I did what I had to!” You poked your finger into his shoulder, “I have not slept for feeling so wretched. I didn’t know it was possible to feel even more so.” You crumpled on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest, and letting the tears o, “Yet here I am.” You wept.

He stood and, slowly and quietly, came to sit next to you. Anthony brought his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

“Anthony, you know she doesn’t have to marry a man. But you know as well as I do of the connotations that will bring. If that is what she wishes, and I believe it is- I know it is, then you need to prepare for that.” You mumbled into his shoulder, your tears making his shirt wet through, “Don’t force her to marry. Even if you think it’ll make things easier.” You begged. This was, surely, the last thing you could do for her. The only thing you could do to bring her joy.

His adam’s apple bobbed and he turned his head slightly to you, “And would you marry a man?”

“Never.” You gazed into the distance, thinking of your ow family, of your father, “But I will no longer have the gossips of the ‘Ton to answer to.” You shrugged, helpless and tired, but defiant.

“And what will you do?” He asked, softly.

“All that is left to do is to leave come morning.” You responded, “My bags are packed. There is nothing left here.”

“Nothing?” He moved sharply, almost so fast that you keeled over right into the space he had just occupied. You steadied yourself as he sat himself in front of you, passion burning in his eyes. He was challenging you.

“Perhaps I mean that there is too much for me here.” You met his gaze again and he nodded.

“Perhaps.”

The two of you sat in silence for a short period of time, perhaps a few minutes. Eventually, you wiped at your cheeks and stood up, holding out your hand. “I thank you for your visit, Lord Bridgerton.” He took your hand, standing up.

“I fear nothing good came of it.” He looked more troubled than he had when he had first arrived but he squeezed your hands in thanks.

“Hmm.” You nodded in agreement, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help her. I don’t even have the answers myself.” You admitted.

“And what if I want to talk again?” He asked, plainly.

You faltered. You were going away, cutting off all conncections to this place. You frowned and shook your head, “I’m leaving-”

“But can I write?” He perservered. The ache in his eyes made you falter, and you gave in too easily. Maybe you were becoming too soft.

“You can.” You answered, before your tongue could stop and your brain could cut in.

He quirked up an eyebrow and there was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, “Will you answer?”

“Maybe not. I don’t think I’ll ever have the answers you’re looking for.” You admitted, “You’re a good brother.”

“And you’re brother... is he good?” He asked, still with a tight hold of your hands, torn between letting you go and begging you to stay.

“He will look after me.” You nodded.

“I am sorry, for what it is worth. I’m sorry that you can’t be happy here, with Eloise.” He said her name with such force and certainty. Perhaps you couldn’t just shut her away in a memory box in your brain. She was always stubborn like that. “You have all the qualities I would wish for in a gentleman.” His lips quirked up in a small smile.

You think that, for the first time in a days, you may have just smiled too. A sad kind of smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Good night, Anthony.” You pulled your hands from his grip. “I will esnrue to send you Toby with my future address.” He nodded and bowed one last time.

“Safe travels,” Anthony walked himself to the door, opening it. You didn’t follow. He looked back one last time, “and thank you.” He smiled again, closing the door behind him.

663 notes · View notes

margowritesthings · 2 years

Text

Lightning (And Her Thunder)

pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: fluff, un-beta'd?, discussions of era-accurate sexism and lack of same sex marriage, a bit of making out

a/n: little miss begs for requests then writes random ideas that strike her is back hello! Sorry not sorry. I kinda love this, it's possibly my fave I've written (also can you tell Im reading pride and prej

tagging: @faye-tale @slut4colinbridgerton @musicallisto

My requests are currently open!

Lightning cracked the midnight sky, illuminating a mischievous glint in Eloise’s eye. You both began to count.

One.

Tiny laughter lines creased in the corners of her lips.

Two.

A single curl of hair had escaped her sleeping braid and had landed on her cheek. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Three.

Thunder boomed and bounced around the walls of Eloise’s bedchamber. Even though you were expecting it, the sheer volume had you digging your fingernails into your palm. Eloise looked positively enthralled, unbothered by the vibrations in the air.

“See? I told you! Without fail, after the lightning there is thunder.” She beamed, satisfied that her hypothesis had been proved. You scrunched your nose, feigning confusion while you tried not to notice how lovely she looked when she was this excited about something. Eloise always was passionate, no matter what the topic.

“I don’t recall disagreeing with you, El, but I fail to see what has gotten you so worked up about it.” You said honestly, fully expecting the eye roll that came your way. Eloise was, as usual, around three steps ahead of you in her thought process.

“My Mama says that thunder is the noise God makes when he is rearranging his furniture, but how should that be true? It is always after lightning and, besides, how often does one need to rearrange furniture? I should think that He has run out of places to put his writing table and pianoforte.”

You laughed hard, throwing your head back slightly. Only El could come up with such an image, with her brilliantly unique perspective on the world. Another crack of lightning lit the room, replacing the warm glow of the candlelight with a harsh brightness for a moment. Thunder followed and Eloise held out her hand in a violently I Told You So manner.

“And if you’re right…” you started, trying your hardest to keep up with your best friend’s somewhat unconventional train of thought. It felt a little like treading deep water, so you held out your arm for support, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I am struggling to find your point.”

Another eye roll. It was loving, though, as Eloise’s eye rolls sent your way always were.

“My point is… well, that perhaps there is more to the world than what our mamas tell us.” She says it in a hushed tone, as if Violet Bridgerton herself was somehow peeping into Eloise’s rooms, waiting to hand her in for treason to mamas everywhere.

Your features softened as you considered Eloise’s words. You were certain there was more to the world than what your mama told you. You knew it from the scarlet shade your mama’s ears turned when you first asked about babies and where they came from, you knew it from the time you walked into the servants quarters to find your father’s valet and your Governess entangled in each other, completely naked and you knew it from the way your heart fluttered whenever you and Eloise shared that one look that made it difficult to think straight.

“Perhaps you’re right.” You eventually confirmed, leaning back against the foot of Eloise’s bed. You had only intended on visiting your best friend for tea, but when the rain started to hammer on the windows of Number Five, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton declared that she paled at the thought of you trying to make your way home that evening and Eloise had been instructed to find you fitting bedclothes. You didn’t mind one bit, of course. Not only did you love spending time with the Bridgertons possibly more than your own family, you were also currently working on a theory that you were irretrievably in love with Eloise Bridgerton.

Another reason you knew for a fact that life was so much more than what your mama has shared with you.

“Take men, for instance,” Eloise started, leaning back into her headboard and straightening her legs so that yours rested beside hers, “We’re told we are not to be alone with a man because we will be compromised, but why? What can a man do that a woman can’t? We are alone together right now, doesn’t that make us compromised?”

“Well, no, of course not. Compromising involves marriage, does it not? And we could never marry.” You attempted to produce a substantial addition to the conversation, still somewhat struggling to keep up with Eloise’s fast tongue and mind.

“Precisely!” Eloise’s excitement in your vague understanding pulled her upright and closer to you, her legs folded neatly beneath her and her knees brushed against yours.

“I think it has something to do with kissing.” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, though you thought you managed to pass it off quite casually. There was an overwhelming urge to fiddle with your fingers and look down at them, but you managed to fight it, looking Eloise right in the eye. The mischievous glint hadn’t moved. If anything, it had grown brighter. Your theory on your feelings strengthened.

Eloise scrunched her nose just as she did when she was deep in thought or struggling to get through a page of a particularly difficult journal.

“But that does not stand to reason… you and I could kiss and we would not be forced to marry. You and I could kiss right now and yet our Mamas are perfectly fine with leaving us alone together.”

Your heart pounded.

You gulped.

“That is true…”

Luckily, Eloise was on a roll and didn’t require any more response. Good, as you didn’t think you had one. Not an appropriate one, at least.

“So it therefore stands to reason that there is something between kissing and marriage that only men can perform upon women.”

You thought back to the servants you once walked in on, naked and moaning in between passionate kisses they shared. Whatever it was that Eloise was searching for in her monologue, you were almost certain it was something to do with that. How to approach that with your best friend/secret love interest, you hadn’t the faintest idea.

A pause.

“...And you got all that from lightning?” Your tone betrayed you, confirming to Eloise that you weren’t entirely with her.

“Thunder.” She confirmed, as if it were the most obvious mistake in the world. You both sat for a moment, still inches away from each other. The distant roll of thunder and dull hammering of rain on the window were the only saviours from the silence that grew between you both. It wasn’t an awkward silence, more a silent anticipation. Of what, you weren’t sure.

“I suppose it does bring about many questions…” Your voice was much softer now, almost as if the world had shrunk around you and Eloise since this conversation had started. You subconsciously leant forwards, barely enough to be noticeable by El, “About the sexes… marriage… love.”

You could have sworn you saw a gasp get trapped in Eloise’s throat, though you couldn’t be sure.

“Love? What of love?” Her voice was also hushed, which was very unusual for Eloise Bridgerton, and she was leaning in, much like a child as they are told the most engaging of fairy tales or secrets of the world.

“Well, my mama told me that a marriage can be built on a foundation of love. My mama and papa are a love match, as were yours, therefore it should signify that love is a contending factor.”

Eloise paused to think and you inwardly congratulated yourself, as causing Eloise to ponder so was a feat rarely accomplished. You were so excited by that fact that you almost didn’t notice the wistfulness swimming around Eloise’s striking eyes, but when you did, your chest tightened.

“I don’t know how love should signify when women may only marry men.” Even in the intimate, weighted moment, Eloise still managed to huff. “I cannot imagine a single member of the male specimen which I am not related to that I could ever imagine loving.”

You would have laughed at the insult to mankind if the very same thought did not plague you day and night while your mama forever squawked on about marriage. Of course, you had attended balls and partook in the social season, giving you more than enough stories of boring men with bad breath and wandering eyes to put you off the species entirely. In fact, the only part of these balls and house parties were the moments you stole away with Eloise, giggling and shushing each other as you snuck through the hallways owned by various socialites and dignitaries in search of respite. You never cared for the dancing, awkward and embarrassing, but you always came home with a smile on your face and memories of Eloise’s flushed cheeks as you both hid behind statues in the garden.

How, then, could you ever set your cap for one of those men, knowing exactly the laughter and pure joy you were missing out on? You feared more than anything the emptiness in the pit of your stomach you were sure you were destined to feel, begat from an unfulfilled life with a stranger. You could never fall in love. Not again, at least.

“Nor I.” You admitted, all fight for maintaining an impartial disposition disappearing. “I do wonder who decided that women must marry men. I believe I should have a much easier time finding a woman to share my life with…” By the time you had realised what you had said, the words were spoken and there was nothing to be done about it.

Your hopes that Eloise hadn’t caught on were, of course, in vain, being the smart, capable woman she was. Her jaw was looser than normal and you saw Eloise’s lips part just a hair. Her chest was rising and falling harder than you’d noticed all night. You waited for her to say something, anything, when Eloise was irradiated by the harsh white light of the lightning cracking outside. In your mind, you start to count.

One

Your own lips are parted and your breathing is hitched.

Two

The stray hair was back in Eloise’s face.

Three

You reached over to push the curl behind her ear.

Four

Your eyes hadn’t left Eloise’s, swimming in her wide, expectant gaze, waiting for her to stop you as your hand inched ever closer.

Five

Nothing was going to stop you.

That moment lasted an eternity, despite the fact that you counted five seconds between the lightning and the crashing of your lips against Eloise Bridgerton’s. Your fingers dove straight past the curl hanging on her cheek, instead entangling themselves into her thick chestnut hair. It was soft, as were her lips. God, they were soft. You had never kissed anyone before, so had no idea what to do, but instinct on the moment, instinct on what your soul needed at this very moment helped you lead you and Eloise through.

For the first instant, she had stiffened, but quickly relaxed and began to mirror your movements, even taking the lead after a few seconds. Your lips brushed against each other as you pulled at Eloise’s braid to bring her as close to you as possible. The distant thunder still rumbled, but the world around you ceased spinning as you kissed the girl you were destined to love forever.

She tasted sweet, sweeter than you could have possibly imagined from such a headstrong soul. Trust Eloise to be the perfect… well, everything. Sparks fell from your neck down your spine as her hand found its way to the back of your head to hold you closer as you were her. In that moment, you knew. Everything about this moment meant everything to you, but it also did to her. She wanted you just as much as you wanted her, and if the tug of your hair didn’t tell you that, it was the sweet moan that escaped her as you licked at her lip.

Before you could capture the moment and hold onto it forever, it was over. Your eyes were open, falling into each other as your foreheads rested upon the other. Eloise’s fingers ran over the skin of your neck and you fought back the emotional weight of what had just happened.

“I told you…” Eloise breathed, still trying to regain control of her respiration. “There is so much more than our Mamas teach us…”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ: *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x you #eloise bridgerton fanfic #eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton fluff #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #margofiore

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agxxb · 4 days

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ eloise bridgerton .ᐟ

𖤓 sfw. ☾ nsfw.

eloise thoughts

imagines!

☾ Touch Me There [1k]

blurbs!

#agxxb #eloise bridgerton fluff #eloise bridgerton fanfiction #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton smut #eloise bridgerton fanfic #eloise bridgerton #eloise x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton x reader

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blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 1 year

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Thoughts- Eloise Bridgerton

Pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x Reader

Characters: Eloise Bridgerton

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- can i request an eloise bridgerton fic based on “I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much.” please?

Word Count: 432

Author: Charlotte

Eloise rushed back into the library to take her seat in an armchair, waving the new Lady Whistledown article at you. You should have known she would head out early to get her hands on the popular article, desperate to see the newest thoughts of the mysterious writer. Since the writing had become remotely popular, Eloise had taken grasp onto the plan to find out the identity of the writer but had thus far not gotten far. You were supportive of her plight, but you did doubt that it would be successful.

You had no idea what this article was going to be about. Often it was cruel or harsh words about the ton of London and teared into the lives of all of those around you, the factual state was questionable to anyone but the subject. You weren’t much of a fan, not wanting your dirty laundry aired to your neighbours, so equally showed disinterest in there’s but you couldn’t help but find interest in all of Eloise’s plans and theories.

She quickly read through the page before gleefully clutching it to her chest, letting out a joyous squeak.

“I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much,” she grinned. “Her writing is superb, and I truly believe she may be my soulmate.”

You shook your head at her. “You do not love her.”

Eloise cocked an eyebrow at you, her grin slightly faltering, not sure what you were talking about.

“You do not love Lady Whistledown, you are in love with the idea of her,” you corrected. “Frankly what do you know about this woman? Do you even know if she is a woman?”

She paused for a moment. “Well… no, I do not know much about her, him, them. What I do know though is that they are an amazing writer. It is all truly gripping to read.”

Although you hadn’t read many of her articles, it didn’t fascinate you in the same manner that it did for Eloise.

“It is also known that she is spiteful and manipulative,” you stated. “The subjects of her writing do not consent to having their lives put to paper, so why should she be allowed to write about it? She is ruining the lives of our families and friends, it is not something to admire; and for that matter, her writing isn’t even that impressive, you are by far a superior writer.”

For once Eloise fell silent, rarely ever at a loss for words. She looked over the article in her hand this time seeing it in a different light.

#Thoughts #Anon #Request #Eloise Bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton Imagine #Eloise Bridgerton One Shot #Bridgerton #Bridgerton Imagine #Bridgerton One Shot #Charlotte

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allthornsnopetals · 3 days

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Love on Parchment E.Bridgerton

Description: Flora Deluca -Lady da silva- is the pen pow and beloved author of Eloise Bridgerton. With her travels around the world, Flora finally travels to Mayfair London, in the hopes to inquire inspiration for yet another successful story, one in London, away from France and Italy with the aid of her pen pow. Unknowingly embarking on her romance mini-series.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Prologue: Stain the Parchment

:I - Amethyst orbs and raven Mane: :II - The spring Thaw: :III - Count the Petals:

:IV - Make it of Love: :V - Make it of Hate: :VI - Make it of Romance:

:VII - Make it of Adventure: :VIII - Make it of Longing: :IX - Make it only you and I:

:X - Love on Parchment:

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frost-queen · 10 months

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Till it bites you back // part 3 (Male!Reader x Eloise Bridgerton)

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @elllie-does-the-posts, @alex--awesome--22, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @melsunshine, @evilcr0ne, @czarinera, @god-titan, @thethreeeyed-raven, @svrootles, @milo890, @anonymous-cat-21, @luvinyouwasred123, @cluelessteam

Summary: Deeply invested in finding out who Lady Whistledown is partner Eloise and you up. With each second spend together the emotions of love swell up till it makes both parties hunker for a love undescribable [Part 1] [ part 2] [ part 4]

Standing at the sideline of the danceroom, you were observing those on the sideline. You gaze resting a few moments on a lady in soft blue. Her expression saddened as she stared at the dancers. The long yearning on her face as a stake to the heart. Reaching in your pocket, you took out a little brown leather notebook held close with a cord. The pencil followed as you started scribbling observations down. Some movement caught your eye whilst writing, making you look briefly up.

In the blink of an eye you saw a lady make her way over to you. Her dazzling dress kept approaching as it distracted you in blinks. Before she could open her mouth and speak she got greeted by Claude. The right hand of the prince. He held his gloved hand gently up to her by his waist with a shake of his head. The lady stared dumbfound back at him seeing you scribble further behind him.

Without looking back at you, spoke Claude. – “Occupied.” – with the warmest most faked polite smile. The lady left with disappointment. Claude returned to his place near you, but not too close. You observed another lady in a soft pink dress, pearls around her neck. After watching for some moments, you wrote some things down again. Shutting the notebook you approached Claude. Claude stepped side-ways aside to maintain his distance from you as formal as it should be.

“I feel as if I am getting close Claude.” – you exclaimed tugging the notebook in your inside pocket once more. – “My observations are becoming more accurate.” – you continued as Claude turned briefly towards you. – “Your royal highness if I may.” – he started with a bow. With a wave of your hand you ordered for him to do so, occupied with looking around. Claude cleared his throat gently. – “I…don’t get me wrong, but should you not focus on finding a fiancé? A wife?” – he changed wording knowing it was your mother’s dearest wish and here you were at the side-line having ordered Claude to keep every woman at bay.

Dismissing them as you are otherwise engaged. You quirked an eyebrow up, turning to him. – “I do not require to dance to find a possible suitor.” – you told him. Claude bowed his head letting you know he stepped down. Apologizing for overstepping his position. – “Au contraire, Claude I am practically engaged.” – you continued making the poor man gulp in surprise. – “Your Royal Highness, when?” – he asked as you went to completely ignore him.

Caught by a beauty in the midst of the crowd. – “Miss Eloise!” – you called out raising your hand up for her to notice you. Eloise, the fresh breath of air caught had noticed you, smiling widely. Claude looked baffled and puzzled at the lady as you made your way through the crowd towards her.

A few curious heads turned seeing the prince hasten himself through the crowd to reach the Bridgerton girl. Eloise met up with you halfway. – “Your Royal Highness.” – she started wanting to bow as you took her by the wrist, pulling her away from the midst of the crowd. Eloise let you drag her away, seeing a puzzled Benedict glance her way before he was out of sight. By the walls behind a line-up of chattering girls came you to a stop with her. – “Your royal Highness.” – Eloise repeated taking her bow before you now.

It made you chuckle out of breath from surpassing every soul in the ballroom. – “Miss Eloise for our quest of the identity of Lady Whistle.” – you told her grabbing for your notebook. You pulled it out as Eloise’s eyes widened. – “I believe I have become close.” – you continued resting your hand on the cover. – “You… you used a notebook?” – Eloise asked both confused and curious. – “Oui.” – you said proudly only upon seeing her puzzled, you weren’t sure if it was a positive matter.

“Should I have not?” – you asked her, embracing the notebook with your hands, pulling it close to your chest. Your sudden saddened reaction startled Eloise. – “No!” – she blurted out making you look even sadder at her. – “No… I meant…no… I didn’t mean it like that.” – she explained in a haste. – “I am lost…” – you said sighing deep. – “English… I will never understand.” – you mumbled to yourself. At this point it felt as if the world was caving in on you. Nothing made sense. Her reaction to you carrying a notebook felt like a foreign language.

Eloise grabbed you by your elbows, smiling sweetly to make you meet up with her gaze. – “I think it is rather sweet.” – she said lifting your spirit a bit up. – “You… you do?” – asking her to be sure. – “Oui.” – Eloise responded with a little bounce of her feet. Her sweet reaction made you almost want to kiss her. Just by the way of her cuteness and her attempt to speak French. Your language by birth. It moved you to see her put some effort in it. To have the patience and explain herself better when you do not follow.

“What are your findings.” – she said with a little flinch feeling herself get flustered from staring in your gaze. Clearing your throat you opened your notebook. – “Well…” – you began as Eloise came standing close to you. – “I have observed a number of ladies standing on the side.” – you continued feeling a presence close to you. You only had to turn your head slightly to the side to see her face peek over your shoulder into your notebook.

Her eyes darted from your notes to you, staring closely up to each other. – “You… you have a beautiful handwriting.” – she whispered catching herself stare slightly down to your lips. – “As are you…” – you whispered back caught in a stare. Aware of what you just said, you quickly changed your words. – “As is yours.” – you corrected with a nervous clearance of your throat.

Eloise set herself down on her heels laughing. – “My handwriting is terrible. Poorly readable if I say so myself.” – she joked as it made you laugh as well. – “I do not believe a single one of it.” – you chuckled out. Hearing your heart thump loud against your chest, you moved the notebook up to hide the flush in your cheeks. – “You see I…” – you began needing to steady your voice. – “I have taken notes off numerous ladies, yet only seven of them I believe might be Whistledown.” – you informed her. – “May I see that list?” – she asked, you nodded and gave it to her.

Eloise started reading the names out loud that you had listed underneath as possible gossip writers. – “Lady Margaret Price, Miss Agatha Fletcher, Miss Eden Grace. Lady Phryne Fenton, Miss Penelope Featherington.” – Eloise suddenly stopped. – “You… you know her?” – you asked her. – “Yes, she is my dearest friend. How come you think of her?” – she questioned making you pull your shoulders up. – “I never see her dance and she always roams the walls, sliding across the proportions of the room.

I meant no harm with including your friend. I did not know I was merely making a conclusion of finding out the identity.” – you explained with desperation as you hoped it wouldn’t mean losing her. Eloise shook her head. – “It is alright. It is true she rarely dances…” – Eloise said the intensity of her voice wandering off. You plucked your notebook out of her hands. – “I shall exclude her from the list.” – you said out loud already taking out your pencil. – “No!” – Eloise called out putting you to a stop. – “You shouldn’t do that. We must be thorough as partners.”

Her choice of words made you grin foolishly. – “Now we must find a way to be certain.” – she thought as you had a sudden idea. – “Miss Eloise.” – you said tapping her shoulder for attention. – “If you could… we could watch Lady Price. I know for a fact where she will be tomorrow midday. If…if you are not otherwise engaged… I thought perhaps we could…” – saying it out loud it seemed rather foolish now. Eloise’s eyes widened in a cute surprise.

“You want to stalk Lady Price with me?” – she said lowly hoping she had heard you correctly. You could only smile sheepishly at her for the dumbest idea you had yet presented her with. Of course she was going to decline. A midday alone with you, unchaperoned. She was no fool. Perhaps you were. You still needed to get rid of Claude then if this would set foot. It was a foolish idea, thinking you could spend more time with her alone. It was just when you were around her, you couldn’t think rationally.

Certainly when those lovely doe eyes stared right back at you. How her enthusiasm and close manners made your heart beat as ever loudly. – “Why not.” – Eloise spoke making you stare in shock at her. – “What a good idea your Royal Highness.” – she expressed. Smiling proudly you were so glorified by the feeling of her approvement. You leaned a bit closer to her to whisper. – “Meet me tomorrow at noon at the market.”

It was almost an agony to get rid of Claude. He insisted upon following your every move. You had tried lying to him that you require solitude in the garden. Solitude he would be happy to give you within reach of his sight. Getting slightly annoyed you almost had to shout at him to be gone. Finally you were able to get rid of him as your mother required a moment with him. You saw the chance, winked at Liana to keep your little escape a secret and left.

Disguised as a regular man, you waited by the market for Miss Eloise. Suddenly smiling you saw her approach. Her hair down in such elegance it made you swallow hard. The blue cloak over her shoulders giving her a graceful disguise. – “Your Ro…” – she started wanting to bow as you quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, pressing her against your chest for a hug. – “It is Y/n here Eloise. Common Y/n.” – you whispered in her ear with a nervous chuckle.

Eloise’s eyes stood wide slightly panicking at the loud thumping of her heart, hoping you wouldn’t hear it. You let go of her, looking nervous around. – “Alright common Y/n.” – she said smiling. If there was any fluster inside of her, she hid it well. – “Where do we find this Lady Price?” – she asked getting on the tips of her toes to overlook the market.

“There.” – you said motioning with your head. Indeed Lady Price stepped out of her carriage. It made Eloise turn around hoping she wouldn’t see her. You took Eloise’s hand laying it over your arm. – “What do you require dear, some fruits? Flowers? Cattle?” – you suggested seeing the slight panic in her eyes. It made you laugh loud. Eloise chuckling sheepishly back. You glanced over your shoulder watching as to where Lady Price would go. She went to pass by some fruit markets. Pulling Eloise with you, you went after her on a distance.

Eloise and you stood by the fruit booth next to hers. You pretended to look for fruit, picking one up to smell for a second. – “I didn’t know Lady Price did this by herself. You would think she has maids buying fruit for her.” – Eloise whispered to you. – “Perhaps she only trusts her own judgement on fruit?” – you responded making Eloise quirk her eyebrow up. Her expression made you laugh loud.

Your laughter caught Lady Price’s attention as Eloise, and you freaked out. Eloise turned her back to the lady, picking up a watermelon to hold up in front of your face. She waited till Lady Price stopped looking and went on. You came peeking from behind the watermelon with a smile. – “A good choice dear.” – you joked. Eloise lowered the watermelon. – “I don’t think it is ripe yet, dearest.” – she responded putting it back down. Both of you smiled at the little charade going on. – “Not ripe? My fruit is the ripest!” – The owner shouted upon hearing her. Eloise and you wouldn’t have ears for it.

Gazing at each other, you came to her side, walking off with her. You were so lost in her eyes, you barely noticed Lady Price moving on. – “Wait, where is she?” – you said out loud, looking around desperately. – “There!” – Eloise called out. Before you knew it she grabbed your hand, pulling you with her. She started running with you over the market towards the house Lady Price went in. Eloise and you came at the house as she pulled you down behind some sacks of flour.

Crouched she and you crawled a bit closer to an open window to hear word of her conversation. Eloise was narrowing her eyes a bit to focus her hearing on the conversation. What she did made you form a smile. If you could burn her image on your sight, you would be happy if her face was the only thing you could see. Her very existence radiant to you. If one were to ask who your muse was, it was her. Every second spend in her company was uplifting.

The longer you were, the harder it was to say goodbye to her. At this point you never wanted to say goodbye to her. Wanting to have her stuck to you. Heart beating loudly for her, you leaned a bit closer to her. A grave urge to be close to her. A tingle in your lips, restless hands that needed contact with her hands. As clear as day, you wanted her. You weren’t aware of your surroundings anymore. Luckily Eloise was.

She heard the door open startling her. Her body flinched as she turned round, wrapped her arms around you and dropped down with you. You fell on your back, Eloise laying on top of you. Her eyes squeezed shut as you felt her muscles pull together around you to stay hidden. Hoping you wouldn’t be seen. Hearing footsteps fade away, Eloise waited a few minutes before getting up. The moment she got up, you were boiling hot.

If it was possible, there would be steam coming out of your ears. This was the closest she had ever been to you. – “Y/n.” – she said pulling you to sit up by your hand. You needed a second to recover from that. Eloise looked behind her. – “She left. Let us go inside and see what she was doing in there.” – Eloise got up as you had to scramble yourself to your feet. Following her, you went inside. Eloise barged in loudly announcing her presence as you remained on the background.

It took her one observation to understand what kind of house this was. – “Yes?” – a man with round glasses said curious. – “Nothing.” – she replied waving her hand. The owner went back to fill his cabinets. – “Who knew she sought out potions.” – she said smiley. – “I mean if it means becoming numb to hearing Cressida’s annoying voice I would jump at the opportunity of whatever intoxicating concoction he has in those bottles.”

Suddenly aware of you staring dreamily at her, she felt flustered. – “What?” – she asked moving her head a bit back. – “I am so in love with you.” – you confessed unable to keep it to yourself. Eloise smiled shyly away. The shop owner cleared his throat to announce for you to leave if you weren’t buying anything. Eloise and you went outside, making sure no one had seen you come from that house. Imagine the papers. His Royal highness and Miss Eloise Bridgerton seen unchaperoned in search of intoxicating herbs to numb the brain.

It would be scandalous. Eloise and you left the market. – “I believe we can take her off the list.” – Eloise said as you nodded. – “Y/n.” – she said making your flutter at how easy your name rolled off her tongue. – “I… cannot describe what my body experiences but I like it somehow. I never thought I was capable of feeling it, but I do.” – she confessed as you took both her hands.

Keeping an eye on her, you kissed her hands with care and love. Eloise smiled moving her hands so that she was now holding yours. Letting her thumb stroke your hands. Eventually Eloise and you parted as the time spend away from home was starting to get suspicious. You parted with her, knowing you would soon be with her again either to continue your search for Lady Whistledown’s identity or at another ball.

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