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hiatuswhore · 9 months

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: I am so sorry for just disappearing on this fic. I love this fic but I’ve been struggling with writers block BADLY. My think tank is broken or something. So since I disappeared for so long the word count is double the usual. Thanks for your patience. Feedback please!

♕ 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: 17.6K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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THE NIGHT SKY SITS HIGH UP WITH A COOL BREEZE THROUGH THE WINDOW. Sitting alone in front of a vanity worth more than most of your things combined, you sit in the mirror, brushing your hair, toying with the idea of a marriage to William. It’s ideal—more than ideal, it comes with everything you want in life. An out from society, the means to do as you please, but still, it burdens you with a new level of expectations and responsibilities. No matter how much the choice glitters, it’s not gold. You cannot bring yourself to give him an answer.

Opening your room door slowly, you poke your head out quietly, scanning the corridor. At the sight of no one and the low hum of everyone to their own devices, you move cautiously through the hall. The stairs proved to be their own obstacle, with every creak threatening to reveal your scheming. Your end goal? The back porch, certain a moment beneath the stars.

“—you cannot be serious!” Stopping short, the back door sits in view a mere few steps away, but William’s voice halts your movement. The closed-door staring back at you, the persistent padding of the floor matching the faint shadow beneath hastily moving back and forth.

“Spare me, William! You speak on speculation alone!” Anthony seethes, his attempts to whisper clashing with his own frustration. A scandal? You want to listen, to cling to any information the private conversation offers, but the foyer lacks any semblance of coverage. It would only take one person opening the door to reveal your highly inappropriate snooping. As a guest of the Bridgertons, no good would come from this kind of trouble. You cast the moment to the back of your mind, acknowledging that you have more complicated matters than two Englishmen in a row.

Rising early the following day. Typically the beaming sun through the curtains and the loud chirping of birds result in dramatic whines and huffs. Not today. Before your mother or even Lady Danbury can rise to object, you ask Lady Violet to use the driver to see some of the countryside. Her nescience to your troublesome nature granting you jovial approval.

In the carriage, you rest your arms on the open window, the cool air blowing across your skin. The sun warms your face as you melt into the calm that comes with endless farmland.

“Excuse me, sir. Can you pull over, please?” You call out. The vibrant green shines with a sea of endless flowers, assuring John, the driver, that you will soon return while entering the open field. Walking through the grass, you march without a destination. Occasionally swatting away a fly or bug, your smile remains.

“Appa, look at this,” You whisper, eyes shining at the flowers around you. John’s no longer in sight. You are not positive about how far you have journeyed when you turn around. Without a worry, you continue back straight from the direction you came. After a long while, the lack of the familiar carriage comes with a wave of ambivalence. The silence continues on as a frown settles on your face, the terrain on a continuous loop.

Scolding your inability to follow any directions ever given to you. You drag your feet huffing at the uncomfortable rub of your boots. The concept of time now an illusion. Your mind says it’s been hours as your feet cry days. You thank the heavens above at the sound of a horse until you see who rides toward you with a pointed look.

“Must you always be so erratic? William and I have been searching for you for hours! Do tell, how does one get lost with no turns?” Anthony exclaims, stopping expertly at your side. You wipe the discomfort from your face as you cross your arms in front of your chest.

“First, I’ll have you know that I am not lost. Secondly, no one asked you to come searching for me!” Anthony points out the ways off you are from where the carriage let you out. Falling silent, you roll your eyes before holding out your hand to join Anthony on the horse.

“You can’t be seen riding on the back of my horse. It would be improper,” He says, keeping your hand out; you narrow your eyes at his words, “So, to be clear, you journeyed out here with no alternative of getting me to the estate? Have you come only to chastise me, Mother?”

“If you put it like that, then, of course, it sounds foolish,” Anthony grumbles, your right eye twitching as you fight the urge to push him off the horse, “Because it is foolish! Now spare me your silly formalities and help me up!”

His nose scrunches as a sigh leaves him. Taking your hand and pulling you up, he utilizes the opportunity to lecture you on every worst-case scenario. You secure your arms around his lower back and lean your head on his shoulder. He drones about the dangers of the particular area and how fortunate nothing occurred. While he continues listing every action of yours he deems a nuisance, you soak in the release of the tensions on your legs and feet. Before you know it, his words and the smooth trot of the horse lull you away.

“—are you even listening? Of course, you are not. Why would (Y/n) Sharma listen to anyone else other than herself?” Anthony says, glancing on his shoulder to find your eyes closed.

“Don’t be such a boorish oaf. It’s been a phenomenal day,” Yawning, you find yourself nuzzling further into the back of his shoulder as if nothing else matters. Anthony lets out a dry chuckle, keeping his focus ahead as his mind pushes William’s confession to the back of his thoughts.

Before you know it, Aubrey Hall stands in view like your saving grace. Daphne steps through the doors as Anthony helps you down from the horse. Her eyebrows furrow as she carefully eyes the two of you, “No matter how painfully dull I find you, I must say thank you for coming to get me. Repeat that to anyone and I’ll deny it to my dying breath.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Miss Sharma,” Anthony nods his head at your thank you as Daphne lingers by the steps. Her eyebrows furrow at the two of you as her mind generates connections she previously presumed to be false.

“(Y/n) Sharma! Have you gone mad? I was worried sick, my child,” Your mother rushes down the stairs pulling you into a tight hug. While relief fills her, it subsides as she pulls back from the hug with a pointed stare. “What have you done?”

“If I may, Lady Mary? It appears our driver just made haste. Miss Sharma was only a little ways off of the path. Indeed partaking in a breathtaking but safe area of the countryside,” You turn to Anthony as he speaks with a charming smile. His easygoing nature saves you from a long lecture you would have inevitably received from your mother.

“Well, then, my apologies, dearest. Lord Bridgerton, please accept my utmost gratitude for ensuring my daughters' safe return,” Lady Mary says as she takes your arms. She excuses the two of you with a polite smile before dragging you toward the house. You look back at Anthony with narrowed eyes, but he only offers a sardonic smile with a mocking wave. You are certain his help does not come without cost.

“Though Lord Bridgerton vouches for the safety of your insolence, you know better (Y/n)!” Your mother sighs with her back on the door.

“Mama, I did not wish to upset anyone. I just wanted to explore the countryside. You should have seen it. It was beautiful!” You sit on the edge of the bed as your mind fills with the flowers splintering in your memory. The reds, blues, and purples blending in your mind, the ache of your feet long gone.

“My darling, can we please just focus on ensuring tonight’s dinner goes without shenanigans?” Mary sighs, holding her composure she stares at you with patient eyes. “I need your word that while we are here as guests, you will do everything possible to ensure this visit goes smoothly. For Edwina’s sake.”

“Mama, it was only—“ You huff, but as she shakes her head, asking only for your word. “Of course, Mama. I want to make clear I would never do anything to jeopardize our family or Edwina’s happiness. I need to know you know that?”

Mary’s shoulders fall as she takes in your glassy-eyed gaze. She joins you on the edge of the bed, taking both your cheeks in her hand. “(Y/n) I know you believe that, but you fail to remember your actions have consequences. When it is just us, I am more than okay with your adventurousness. But here, my wildflower child is a different world than you know. One wrong move, and it can ruin us all.”

The heaviness of her words does not come without consequence. Even long after your mother leaves you, her words do not. The arrival of dinner does not allow you to dwell on the implications of your mothers' words. You sit between Colin and Benedict, with Kate and Eloise across from you.

“This room is exceptionally well-lit. Have you noticed, Col? How bout you, Lady (Y/n)? The twinkles of the candles, it’s as if—we sit among the stars,” Benedict speaks in awe that exceeds the contents of his words—amusement dances across your face as Colin's eyes continuously bounce to his mother and back to Benedict.

“What is wrong with you?” Eloise questions, mirroring your expression as she eyes her elder brother.

“I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece,” Colin says as if his mind formulates his sentence as it leaves him.

“No, you weren—“ You raise an eyebrow as Colin lightly kicks your shin. The rest of the table watches the pause between the two of you. Colin offers you a pleading smile as you shake your head, shielding your lips with your glass. “You should know that I weaponize my silence. The cost is simple. Why is Benedict acting odd?”

“I gave him a powder that I acquired from my travels. He took far too much of it,” Colin says, earning a loud laugh that draws the attention of the rest of the table. You quickly recover by bringing your glass to your lips again; meeting William’s gaze, he raises an eyebrow. Shrugging your shoulders, you tilt your head toward Benedict until William’s eyes move to the left of you. The longer you stare at the Bridgerton, the more apparent his altered state appears.

“Are you enjoying your time here, Miss Edwina?” Daphne asks, diverting the attention to the opposite end of the table. Edwina sits with Colin to her right and Anthony to her left. Daphne sits across from her with Anthony to her left and William to her right.

“I am, very much. The buzz of the city is thrilling indeed, but I quite enjoy the peace of the country,” Edwina smiles brightly as most of the table watches her. Your attention more on Benedict, who continues quietly in your ear about the room's beauty. Lady Danbury watches you quietly with Kate at her left and Lady Violet at her right. You silently thank whoever made the seating arrangements as your mother sits beside Benedict, unable to eye you the entire night.

“As do I. Though I dare say. It is not quite so peaceful with my entire family in residence,” Anthony points out. Rolling your eyes, you find William chuckling softly, his eyes on you.

“Certainly, I cannot compare my family to your seven brothers and sisters, but you have all become familiar with my wonderfully chaotic sister (Y/n). Kate and I were known to be a handful growing up, but Mama always had her hands full with (Y/n),” Edwina says, leaning forward to catch her gaze; you offer a playful wink. Kate does not miss the opportunity to share when you decided you no longer desired the hair on your head.

“Not this again,” You whine, shaking your head as Kate details how you excitedly carried your hair in your hand.

“I had never seen Mama become so flustered so rapidly. She was endlessly chasing (Y/n) throughout our home,” Edwina details as a chorus of laughter fills the table. Daphne's giggles cease as William huffs to the right of her. She follows his gaze to her left. A smile ghosts on Anthony’s lips as he watches how you laugh sheepishly. Anthony’s eyes focus on you, a nostalgic glint in his eyes,

“(Y/n) was such a fast child I could rarely catch her when she was determined to not be caught,” Your mother smiles, her eyes glazing over as if she leaves the dinner table to relive that memory. The story lacks the part where your father caught you. Despite your upset mother, he only laughed. Not a simple laugh, one without end—he laughed so hard the rest of you could not help but follow suit.

“In seriousness, both Kate and (Y/n) bear heavy responsibilities for our family. (Y/n) has never allowed any moment, no matter how hard in our lives to go without some silver lining. If anyone can help you through a tough time, it’s her. We’d have never survived the tough days without her,” Edwina continues as you look to find her gaze, only to find Anthony’s. It lasts seconds as you roll your eyes at him before looking at your sister. A chuckle leaves his lips as he fails to hear Edwina talk about Kate. Daphne watches warily as William silently watches his oblivious best friend.

“That sounds remarkably similar to you, Anthony,” Daphne says, watching as her brother snaps back into the conversation, “Much familial responsibility to bear, indeed.”

Kate catches Daphne's knowing gaze, and the two watch each other silently for several seconds. You sit watching Colin fail to keep Benedict in check, knocking over his glass and covering his face. When he removes his hand, it reveals a child-like grin, sheer contentment.

“Benedict dear, you alarm our guests,” Lady Violet says with the grace of a seasoned noble. A perfect blend of warmth and patronization. You know that tone all too well.

“Not at all,” Kate says as you offer a giant smile to Lady Violet. The sound of Lady Danbury’s fork against her glass commands the room's attention.

“It is time for a toast,” Lady Danbury says. A smooth distraction, chuckling, you glance at Benedict.

“A good idea. To cheer our guests,” Lady Violet says as your mother beams happily at the idea. It’s clear what they hope to achieve at this dinner, and you find it rather nauseating how they puppeteer it all.

“Or to tend to other pressing matters,” Lady Danbury's words are everything short of subtle. The attention turns to Anthony and Edwina quickly. Kate makes eye contact with Daphne, then with you. While you look unfazed by the inevitable purpose of this invitation, it’s clear Kate seeks a haste exit.

“My—I believe my sisters and I have grown weary,” Kate says. A sharp kick to your shin blocks your attempts to deny her words as you hiss quietly.

“Whatever you gave Benedict, you might need to give it to Kate,” You whisper to Colin, who turns to your sister. She holds her wine close to her lips as her fingers drum against the glass. Her posture’s stiff as she looks at Anthony as if her eyes can strike him dead.

“A toast. Yes,” Anthony rises from the head of the table as you all raise your glasses. “My sincere gratitude to the Sharmas for joining us. It has been splendid having you here to witness what is now my second annual loss at Pall-Mall. Not to be repeated, I assure you. And my special gratitude to Miss Edwina. It has certainly been a privilege to truly make your acquaintance these past few days. In fact, I believe there is a question I would like to ask you.”

You watch as most of the table sits at the very edge of their seats as Anthony pauses. Your eyes cut to Daphne, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight. Daphne steals glances at William, whose lips press tight as he stares at Anthony with—confusion? Kate shares Daphne’s weary expression, and you furrow your eyebrows as something does not quite click. Anthony now stands with his hands clasped behind his back, scanning the room. His eyes find your own, furthering your confusion as he pauses for a second. Anthony moves his gaze to William, and the two appear to speak to one another without saying a single word.

“I should like to uh—I should like to ask you please refrain from telling anyone back in London about yesterday's loss. I fear the harm to my reputation would simply be too great,” Awkward chuckles chorus through the room, but you glare daggers at the Viscount. You may not know classic literature well or Latin, but you know your sisters. The fall of Edwina’s face appears subtle, but the sting of Anthony’s words are unmistakable. Daphne and Kate let out sighs of relief as William stares at you. You cannot decipher what he contemplates, but you are sure it has something to do with Kate, Daphne, and Anthony. Dinner continues, and the end cannot come fast enough.

Finally, just your sisters and yourself. Kate rubs Edwina’s head as you sit without words. Deep frown lines crease Edwina’s forehead, her eyes misty, and you are confident that her self-scrutiny eats away at her insides.

“You must know you did nothing wrong,” Kate dares to say, but Edwina’s words are sharp as she speaks almost instantly, “I must have done something. The rest of the ton are now set to join us in the country. Surely, if the Viscount were to propose, he’d have done it by now. Yes?”

“Edwina, you are putting far too much pressure on yourself. You are wonderful, and they know it,” You take her hand in both your own, bringing it up to your lips.

“That is easy for you to say. People always love you, no matter where you go. You were proposed to by a man in line for the throne of England, Lady Violet dotes on you, and you charmed the Queen. You don’t even try and have done far better than I am. What if I missed my chance? Perhaps I should’ve found out more about the Bridgertons. I should’ve known more about their interests. I should’ve been better,” Edwina does not allow either of you to get a word in as a tear escapes her eyes. You place a chaste kiss on the back of her hand as your chest aches at her words.

“Edwina, do not fool yourself. How am I doing better, and yet you are the diamond of the season? You are amazing and do not need to study a man's family to prove your worthiness. If a proposal is what you want, I will beat it out of the Viscount myself if you so wish it,” Earning a chuckle from Edwina and Kate, the tension eases as a small smile plays on Edwina’s lips. It does not reach her eyes, but you do not expect to expel her fears so quickly.

A soft cry leaves her lips in one shaky breath, “I have bungled this entire affair, and now I feel like a fool.”

“Never say such a thing, Bon. I knew he would only end up hurting you. Come here,” Kate says, wrapping Edwina in her arms. You join the other side closing your youngest sister in. Your heads touch as you focus on the sound of Edwina's quiet sobs. “I hate seeing you like this.”

“I thought he liked me,” Edwina cries, her hand squeezing you both a little tighter. You meet Kate's gaze, nudging your head, telling her it was now her turn to give a pep talk.

“(Y/n) is right, Bon. You are the diamond of the season. There is nary a gentleman back in London who does not wish for your hand. You have choices, Bon. I assure you that all will be well despite this disappointment with the Viscount. Plus, do you truly wish to marry someone our sister might murder?” A loud laugh leaves Edwina’s lips as you nod in agreement with Kate. Despite the heaviness of the conversation, a warmth lingers in the air.

The following day you wake to Kate rushing into your room, sitting up; you grumble as she mutters apologies. She moves to your things, removing the cream you have used on many cuts over the years.

“Are you alright?” You ask as she applies it near her collarbone. She assures you everything’s fine. “What happened to your chest?”

“I got a bee sting while near the gardens—“ You frown as she trails off, her eyebrows furrowing as your presence seems no longer relevant. “While I am not fond of the Viscount, you could help him.”

“Why am I helping him?” You ask. Initially, you do not believe her tale of being stung in the gardens and the Viscounts' familiar reaction.

“I do not know his history, Bon. What I do know is there is something with him and bees. I think he shares your ailment. It appeared like he could not breathe. He looked so afraid—his hands were shaking. Bon, I fear I will never understand your ailment, but for the first time, there is someone who can. Please talk to him, not for him—for you.” Kate crouches at your bedside, brushing your hair with her fingers much like she would after one of your episodes. You do not say a word during the entirety of her explanation. Rarely do any of you talk about your ailment. Kate caught it during the announcement of the season’s diamond, but beyond that, it had been relatively dormant.

“I will not seek him out, but if we happen to cross each other paths, I will inquire if he is indeed alright,” You say. Kate smiles, kissing your forehead before leaving your room. It only takes you mere minutes to get ready, not bothered by doing your hair in some precious way. Your mother, Lady Violet, Lady Danbury, and Daphne appear busy planning the lunch. The Bridgerton siblings scatter amongst the large estate to their own devices, and your sister appears nowhere in sight.

While you said you would not seek him out, you find yourself in the gardens. The flowers bloom beautifully with a significant number of hyacinths in view. You marvel at the simplicity.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony joins your side, but his gaze stays on the flowers. You watch him carefully as he eyes them not in awe but with a cloudy disposition.

“Lord Bridgerton,” You say, turning to the flowers. Anthony's expression does not change, leaving you wondering if he even heard you. Uncertainty plagues you as you are sure what you want to say but not when to say it. “I will not dawdle any longer. I fear I am familiar with where you are now in this ailment. After the horrifying feeling as if all the air will leave your body at once comes that strange calm, where you feel as though you cannot feel anything.”

Anthony’s head whips in your direction, but you do not move your eyes from the flowers. The look on his face tells you that you are on the right track, but it does not confirm your assumptions, “Kate told me what occurred earlier. Correct me if I am wrong, but typically it comes randomly, right? Often in the most inopportune times but typically from certain settings.”

“I—you are mistaken, Miss Sharma. I, the Viscount, suffer no ailment, just temporary lapses,” He does not offer you much as he turns his attention back to the flowers, and you both share similar frowns.

“There is no shame in it, Lord Bridgerton. My father used to say we all have something, if not an ailment—an insecurity. A lot of my insecurities trigger my ailment, if I am quite honest. I have a lot to live up to with two great sisters. I am a lousy shot and not as cognizant as Kate. I lack resilience. I just bury my troubles with humor. Then there’s Edwina, whom you would be a fool to not marry. She checks every box of those silly questions of yours—excelling in modern and classical literature. Which are without a doubt boring,” Anthony chuckles as he listens intently. You let out a huff as you look up and meet his gaze. He appears in awe almost.

“Miss Sharma, I think you are undoubtedly your own harshest critic. You need not be like Kate because you find and elevate the room's most exciting part. Who cares if you are a lousy shot? My younger brothers excelled in shooting before I. You have voiced your distaste for classic literature, and it does edify the mind, but one has to enjoy it to sharpen their wit,” He clasps his hands in front of him, offering a sheepish smile as you look at him. A small smile threatens to break the frown on your lips. While you look off at nothing in particular, you miss how he looks at you. At ease, he appears unusually calm, not stressing the ball or his search for a wife.

“I—I must admit that I was wrong about you, Lord Bridgerton,” You say. A chuckle left his lips while correcting you.

“Anthony,” He says. You nod your head as a smirk tugs at your lips before mocking him.

“You suddenly think we are friends?” He looks incredulously at your sardonic tone, “Oh, do not look at me as if you are unfamiliar with who I am? You can call me by my name if you like. Last I checked, I lack a title and am not a man.”

He scrunched his nose before chuckling as your personality shined through. “With much regret (Y/n), I do agree with you to a point. You lack a title, but I am a gentleman.”

“Spare me your self-righteousness, Lord Bridgerton. I guess I should congratulate you. You have finally acquired the favor of one Sharma sister, now only one more to go, and you can wed Edwina,” Anthony’s face falls at your words. Looking past the garden, William walks toward you both. He ignores your playful smile as his eyes focus on Anthony to your right.

“Miss Sharma, we require a moment alone,” William says, glaring daggers in Anthony’s direction. He does not spare you a single glance as he waits for your departure.

“Miss Sharma?” You scoff at the formality, waiting for him to look at you. After a few seconds, William’s pointed gaze turns toward you.

“Your presence is likely needed elsewhere, and if I am not mistaken, it is highly inappropriate to be with Viscount Bridgerton unchaperoned,” He sounds like your mother, and you do nothing to cover your scowl.

“I know not of your issue, and I do not like whoever this is before me. When you find the time to pull your head out of your arse, then and only then will I happily enjoy your presence. Good day Lord Beauregard,” Your mocking curtsy’s evident before you stomp from the gardens into Aubrey Hall. The rest of the day continues in a blur of your mother preparing you and Edwina for lunch. In the middle of your mother doing your hair, a tap on the door becomes the room's focal point. Mary calls out enter, to which a maid reveals a letter for you from the Duke.

Lady (Y/n),

My apologies for my demeanor earlier. I am cross with my very best friend, and I fear I took it out on you. I will not be in attendance for lunch, for I fear tensions run far too high between Anthony and I. I will be in attendance at the ball. Until then.

Lord Beauregard

“Why is the Duke cross with the Viscount? They are dear friends,” Your mother says, reading over your shoulder, shrugging lazily at the neat cursive you toss it aside.

“Lord Beauregard is upset with Lord Bridgerton? Maybe that is why he did not propose?” Edwina says. You say nothing as Kate observes you as Edwina and your mother continue theorizing. Newton nuzzles at your feet as you hold your tongue. Your mother excuses herself, leaving the three of you alone. Kate still urges Edwina to recognize that she has no shortage of options in terms of suitors. This reality matters little, Edwina speaks passionately, and you cannot discredit her logic. Anthony can indeed provide her with the life she wants—deserves. Kate sighs, looking toward you. Shrugging your shoulders, you scratch the top of Newton’s head. Edwina keeps her gaze low as she speaks cautiously, “Sisters, I’ve been thinking.”

“Clearly,” You mutter under your breath, earning a pointed stare from Kate. Edwina’s shoulders fall as she glances between the two of you. “Apologies, bon, continue.”

Edwina straightens her posture lifting her chin. Raising your eyebrow, you cannot help the faint quirk of your lips. The anticipation of Edwina’s following words nearly comical, far too dramatic for your liking, “I am now quite certain I know why he has not yet made his declaration.”

Kate stiffens, glancing at you briefly before looking back at Edwina. The action terse, earning a furrow in your eyebrows at her. Edwina looks between the two of you with this confidence that you are certain has the strength of wet tissue paper. Her features too frail, and her voice far too delicate, “It's because of the two of you. (Y/n) you push too harshly at him and Kate; you hate one another.”

Edwina crosses the room crossing her arms, contemplating the situation. You eye Kate, her posture loosens, and a long breath leaves her. She looks back at you, and the pause lasts far longer than it should. Kate shakes her gently while turning to Edwina, “Uh, hate is probably too strong a word.”

“And quite frankly, I have been going rather easy on the Viscount,” You say, leaning back in your seat, taking note to later ask Kate what’s going on. Edwina's eyes widen, a glint flashing across her irises. “Oh no, whatever it is you’re thinking, I already hate it.”

“It is clear from your exchanges with the Viscount that he shares the feelings you each have for him. (Y/n) the two of you often banter, but the line between friendship and disdain is far too blurry. Kate, the two of you simply bicker, the line is very clear, and you are on the wrong side of it. All of this time, I thought I needed help getting him to fall in love with me. But I now realize I neeapparentting him to fall in love with both of you,” Edwina speaks softly, joining you on the couch. You can feel Kate’s gaze searing into your skin as she frowns at Edwina.

“Well, I don’t know about love, but the Viscount and I have recently found some common ground. I actually gave him my blessing earlier today,” You speak casually, watching Edwina squeal excitedly. She quickly pecks your cheek before turning to Kate with a soft smile. Kate’s sharp stare does not leave you even as Edwina urges Kate to try harder.

“I have not given up, I will not give up,” Edwina says with a dreamy look in her eyes. She rests her head on your shoulder, failing to see the tense stare between the two of you. Kate wastes no time in asking Edwina to go retrieve your mother.

At the closing of the door, the room still, you both stare each other waiting for the other to speak. Newton whines softly from the floor, the tension all-consuming in the sunlit room. You scoff, crossing your arms, “If you have something to say, just say it. The shared looks with Daphne and William and looks of scrutiny are becoming rather irritating.”

Kate huffs as her shoulders fall. She glances around the room before her eyes come back to you. The second she speaks, you do nothing to hide the grimace that takes your features, her tones gentle. Too gentle, you know it all too well, “Have you lost your mind? Why would you give Anthony your blessing? This will only further complicate things.”

“Do not patronize me, Kate. What are you even on about? We do not have to like him, Kate, but we cannot deny that he can give Edwina the life she wants. A large family, simple affections, dutiful husband,” You stand up with an incredulous glint in your eyes.

“A life where her husband and sister have feelings for each other?” Kate’s words rip through you. The weight of her allegation thinning the air around you. You blink several times as though if you do it enough, it will reset time, virtually ending this conversation.

“I would never hurt Edwina like that. That is a vile accusation,” You seethe, stepping closer to Kate, the breeze from the window cooling the fury that burns your skin. Kate places her hands cautiously on your shoulders. She knows how to anger you just as easily as soothe you.

“I know, bon, but we cannot ignore the truth of the matter,” Kate says, biting the inside of your cheek; you shake her hand off your shoulder. At the window, you peer out at nothing, in particular, swallowing thickly.

“He is courting Edwina, that is all,” You do not look at her as you speak, busying yourself with the many who prepare the backyard of Aubrey Hall with tables and umbrellas.

“I confronted him during Pall Mall about this subject matter. He, too, dismissed me. Neither of you even deny your feelings, only emphasize the inappropriate nature to which your relationship treks dangerously close,” Kate says, being greeted with your silence as you focus as though the workers perform for you. A long sigh fills the silence, “I do not wish to upset you, sister. We swim in precarious waters. If not careful, we’ll drown.”

You turn to Kate, your eyes glassy. Neither of you move, and Edwina’s jubilant voice sounds in the corridor. Before the door opens, you speak barely above a whisper, “We’re friends, that is all.”

Edwina rushes into the room ahead of your mother. She runs to the clothing, insistent on picking her best dress. Your mother glances between you and Kate. It seems she catches all that Edwina misses, and still, no one speaks a word of it.

Though not customary, you wear a sleeveless apricot dress that your mother forces you to pair with a sheer shawl. You walk without a destination with Kate through the backyard, the sea of faces, unfamiliar--the people, uninteresting.

“Sisters!” You can recognize Edwina’s light tone anywhere, her voice lacking the faint bass of your tone. Edwina sits with Anthony. Kate glances your way as Anthony meets your gaze. The pause brief. You glance at Kate before both of you look back to Edwina, her smile beaming. If she notices the hesitancy, she does not show it. “Come sit with us!”

Anthony rises as you both approach. As you approach the seat across from Anthony, Kate stands by the chair across from Edwina. Your eyebrows pinch as you look at Anthony, now questioning every little detail about his demeanor—every little detail about your own.

“Miss Sharma,” Anthony stands with his hands behind his back, dutifully nodding at both of you. You fight every urge to call him Serg.

“Lord Bridgerton,” Kate says. You nod your head fighting your better nature. The boundary between yourself and your potential brother-in-law now hazy. You like his disdain, maybe even prefer it. Contempt can be understood, but anything else resembles putting together a puzzle with missing pieces. You always did like to hide away parts of the puzzles to avoid finishing them.

The three of you sit down, sharing awkward glances as Edwina smiles, sticking out amongst the polite smiles. Anthony clears his throat, momentarily filling the silence. You fidget with a string hanging from your dress as Edwina looks at Kate.

“Did you tell the Viscount about your bee sting?” Your eyes cut to Kate, then Anthony as the question seemingly stills the table further. Kate chuckles softly. She looks at Anthony, speaking plainly. He offers a mock ah that earns an eye roll as you fiddle with your dress string. Edwina’s gaze turns to you, “Sister, you are quiet. Are you alright?”

“Tired perhaps,” Shrugging, Edwina huffs softly but maintains her chipper smile. The table conversation relies focally on Edwina bouncing between the three of you. Edwina suggests that Anthony give you and Kate a tour before you can decline; both Anthony and Kate speak over each other.

“I’ll be shooting with the other gentlemen. The party is to leave quite soon, I’m afraid,” Anthony offers a charming smile toward Edwina. Your younger sister perks up, not missing the opportunity to announce your adept skills in tracking and Kate’s excellent shot. Kate scoffs as Anthony laughs, seemingly dismissing the revelation.

“Do you not think it true?” Kate says. Benedict approaches, reminding Anthony it’s almost time to go. You cannot fight the grin off your lips at the sight of Kate. She has that look on her face. The one where she gets crazy competitive and enables your shenanigans.

Anthony chuckles, glancing at you just as you roll your eyes and laugh, “Perhaps your sister excels in fields with straight aim and level ground, but surely they would have some trouble managing—“

“Well, that certainly wasn’t condescending at all,” You murmur very clearly, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. Kate follows with her own question as Anthony steps further into it. Benedict smiles largely as his oldest brother crashes and burns rather quickly.

“I only mean to say—“ Anthony's slow drawl fuels your amusement. He meets your gaze, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

“Because we are women?” Kate says.

“No. I did not say that.” Anthony's gaze swiftly turns to Kate. At this point, he fumbles to clarify his point, merely shoving his foot farther into his mouth.

“But you implied it,” You point out, glancing at Benedict, whose grin falls as Anthony looks at him. Anthony then chuckles, speaking with a newfound diction, “Ladies, do not hunt.”

Kate quickly distinguishes between what ladies are and are not allowed to do. You bite your bottom lip, mirroring Benedict’s grin as Edwina redirects the conversation. Before you know it, you chuckle while changing in your room as Kate grumbles about Anthony, her irritation of the smug Bridgerton allowing you reprieve from her hefty assumptions. You push her accusation and William's proposal to the back of your mind. The fresh country air pulls a large smile to your lips. The glances from the other men barely reach you as Kate glares at them. Your and Kate's chaperone struggling like a fool on her horse behind the two of you. You sit on the back of Kate’s horse, your eyes taking in all the greenery, specifically the dirt that sits just faintly visible beneath it. The untrained eye would miss the faint but present signs of life in the area. One of the gentlemen up ahead calls the hunting party to the right.

“To the right?” You mutter, your eyebrows pinching as you glance over Kate’s shoulder. Several men steer their horses right as your eyes lock on Anthony’s back, the mocking tone leaving you with ease, “Viscount Bridgerton, do we intend to merely gaze at nature this day?”

“I do like your riddles, Miss Sharma, but I would love it if you spoke plainly,” Anthony says, his overly saccharine smile matching his mocking tone. Kate supplants Benedict spot riding next to Anthony, putting the two of you in clear view of the other.

“My sister's, right. Look, tracks are going off to the left. You can see the cloven shape in the moss,” Kate says. You spot her find, nodding your head as you gesture to the closest tree to the tracks, “The markings of the tree, deer like to rub their antlers against them.”

“Let’s stay with the group. If we find nothing, I shall offer myself up for both your target practice,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you scoff.

“You shall most likely come out unscathed as my target but rest assured, Kate won’t miss,” You taunt, tilting your head mockingly. Anthony narrows his eyes at you, a smile ghosting upon his lips. Kate glances between the two of you, sighing as she clears her throat, ending the moment as swiftly as it arrives. Silence blankets the three of you. You rest your head on the back of Kate’s shoulder, huffing quietly. The silence lives for only a few seconds as you perk up, “Lord Bridgerton, do you know why Lord Beauregard departed so abruptly?”

“He likely made haste once he realized you are more vexing than you are charming,” Anthony says with a matter-of-fact tone as you roll your eyes.

“I knew you thought me charming. The rest of your family certainly finds me to be so,” You fire back instantly, a smirk on your lips as you hold your chin up high. Anthony mimics your eye roll while looking ahead, your moment short-lived as William’s proposal lingers in your mind. You continue with half-hearted amusement while drumming against the saddle, “It’s unlikely William runs from me given his desire to make me his bride.”

Your eyes fog over as you presently leave the moment, Anthony’s locked stare failing to garner your attention. His voice lacks the condescension it has carried throughout the entirety of the day. He ignores Kate’s stare as he looks at you, asking, “You are engaged?”

The drop of your stomach at his question makes you sit straight as a pencil, a distant ringing in your ear faint and nagging. If Kate notices, she does not show or voice it. It seems that minutes—no perhaps hours pass since the question leaves Anthony’s lips, and yet his brother calls after him mere seconds after. Yet the question still lingers. You find yourself considering the possibilities. Will you marry him? You should have an answer. At least that’s what you believe.

Uncertain. Unbecoming. Unworthy.

A foolish—Kate’s voice pulls you back to the present. The horse comes to a stop as the masses dismount and scatters amongst the woods, “Sister, are you alright?”

“Always,” You say, climbing down with a grin. Kate eyes you carefully, and you wonder if she can see how you bury the anxiety, smothering its fire and leaving mere smoke in its wake.

Marching through the woods, you put your focus on your surroundings. You ignore how Kate challenges the others on how to go about the hunt. Kate and Anthony, too consumed bickering to notice how you veer off further and further from each of them. The lean, long-legged ruminant mammal greets your gaze with glowing reddish-brown fur with a cream-colored underbelly. A quiet chuckle leaves your lips, placing your gun down. You watch it in awe.

“Good find, bon!” Kate whispers. She joins your side, meeting your amazed expression with a proud smile. Anthony joins the two of you quite loudly, both of you shushing him as he thankfully did not manage to rouse the deer.

“Are you two quite serious? You cannot just go off like that,” Anthony scolds. Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

“If I wished to just see the trees and shrubbery, I would’ve gladly stayed and followed your very skilled guide,” Your sardonic tone earns a mocking smile, the two of you appearing like squabbling children.

“Lord Bridgerton, would you please be quiet. Bon, it’s your find. You should take the shot,” Kate says. All eyes fall on you, a chuckle leaving your parted lips as you stammer before the words escape you. Your sentences do not form or leave you as you glance at your gun.

Anthony purses his lips as Kate holds her gun out to you. You stare at the gun for several seconds, swallowing thickly. Just as you go to refuse, your blood boils as Anthony’s words reach your ears, “Miss Sharma, cowardice looks good on no one.”

“Takes a craven to know one,” You grumble. Taking the gun from Kate’s hand, you crouch down on the fallen tree. The barrel, at a comfortable place below your shoulder against your armpit, you inhale deeply, controlling the subtle tremble of your hands. Your palms glide against the gun faintly, coating it in a light sheen of sweat. You squeeze the trigger, closing your eyes, the sound scurrying away, telling you the verdict of your shot. Standing up, the sound of the hunting party rushing overfills your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek, your mind scrambles to prepare quick comebacks at the inevitable teasing that heads your way from the Viscount Bridgerton.

Just as the first few faces arrive, Anthony’s voice fills the silence, “It headed that way. It appears I am a bit rusty, but both Miss Kate and Miss (Y/n) are to be credited for finding the deer.“

Kate meets your gaze with a knowing look, but it does not matter as neither of you says a word to the other. The bout of confusion silencing, Kate does not push the subject any further than earlier, and you are grateful.

As the sky bleeds orange, it soon blackens, leaving you to lie awake with the pattering of rain outside your window to keep you company. Like most nights, you slip out of your room to your favorite part of Aubrey Hall, the steps. Sheltered by the house without being in the place. You rest your legs on your elbows on your knees, your chin against your palms like a patient child. The rain falls in heavy droplets, and light splashes mist up, just barely reaching you. It’s constant and unwavering. Approaching steps lull as soft as the pouring rain. You glance at the cup placed at your side.

“I like to have tea on my restless nights. It’s soothing,” Anthony sits at your side, staring out at the rain as he speaks. He takes a cautious sip of his own tea, glancing over at you when silence greets him. You stare at him with a raised brow glancing between him and the cup sitting next to you.

“I prefer—“

“Coffee. Perhaps if you take the time to look at the cup, you will recognize it,” Anthony says casually, taking another sip of his tea. You look at the light brown drink, steam wafting from it to your nose. The sweet smell leaves your mouth salivating in anticipation.

“Is your plot to assassinate me, Viscount Bridgerton? Presenting as a dutiful potential future brother-in-law with a cup of arsenic in hand?” You ask. Taking the handle of your cup, you bring it to your lips while holding Anthony’s gaze, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Why, of course, my lady. Name a better pass time. I’ll wait,” He says, earning a chuckle as you wipe the remnant of the coffee from your lips. It lacks the nutmeg and cardamom you are used to. The bittersweet taste familiar but all the more different.

“Very funny, Viscount Bridgerton,” You chuckle softly, taking another sip as you peer back out at the rain. The muggy air and warm drinks flush your skin, a faint tint of reddish pink covering you. It’s serene but not perfect with the uncomfortable temperature, poor visibility, and loud silence. Yet it works. Neither you nor he moves to break this solitude. It lasts for seemingly a lifetime in mere minutes.

“William asked you to marry him?” Anthony says. You sigh, placing down your cup of coffee. You can see Anthony’s watching you from the corner of your eye.

“I presumed he would tell his best friend,” You are quick but not fast enough.

“Do you love him?” Anthony asks. You stare out at the rain with an unreadable expression. Your silence does not paint your truth to its full scope.

“I love William, I do. But I’m not in love with William,” You swallow thickly, your fingers fidgeting in your lap, “He wishes for me to be happy. Yet he does not understand what love does.”

“And what is that?” Anthony murmurs. He looks away from you, tracing the rim of his cup.

“It—“ You open your mouth just as your thoughts jumble in your mind. Taking a deep breath, Anthony glances over at you, a curious glint in his eyes. You cannot help but notice how you hold his full attention, “Love is like an anchor. It drags down to the sea. Further and further from reality, the reality is that marriage is an economic proposition. I do not wish to delve into detail, but the fantasy of love and marriage have long been sullied for me. I do not desire it nor require it. I know that may sound harsh, but it is my truth.”

“Not harsh at all. Refreshing perhaps,” Anthony says quietly. You nearly do not hear him. He takes a sip of his tea before clearing his throat, “After, uh, after my father passed, it took such a heavy toll on my mother. They shared a great love which showed all the good, but once you’ve seen the bad, it’s near—near—“

“Irreversible,” You say softly, finishing his sentence and meeting his eyes. The rain rages on, the soothing white noise all-consuming. You flinch as the sky brightens with the strike of purple lightning that flashes across the sky. The loud following booms rumbling the ancestral home.

“Perhaps it is time to retire to our rooms. Allow me to escort you,” Anthony says. You raise an eyebrow at him with a teasing grin. He rolls his eyes taking a taunting tone, “To ensure the arsenic takes, of course.”

Chuckling softly, you reach for your cup, cut off as Anthony takes it before you. You offer a mock surrender raising your hands in defeat earning a chuckle. Anthony walks you to your room door. Pausing before entering, speaking just barely above a whisper, “Tell anyone of this, and I will deny it. You are not as dreadful as you present yourself to be.”

“Great final words, my lady,” Anthony jokes, earning an eye roll as you bid him goodnight before disappearing into your room. Inside you choose not to dwell on the conversation too long, finding sleep at the touch of your face to your pillow.

You stand with Lady Danbury flittering with the uncomfortable corset rather than pay attention to all in attendance. Lady Danbury glances at you, vocalizing the arrival of Lord Beauregard. Your eyes dart across the room, considering blending into the sea of ambitious ladies and their slithering mothers.

“Miss Sharma,” William offers a warm smile while holding out a glass of wine. He apologizes for his absence, suggesting they dance.

“Mhm, do I let you off the hook so easily?” You sip your wine with a tilt of your head, a playful glint dazzling your eyes. William lets out a hearty laugh, his own sparkle shining with mischief.

“Please, oh beautiful Miss Sharma. Please forgive me, for I cannot continue without your forgiveness,” William clutches his chest, throwing his head back dramatically. The laugh that leaves your lips rises from deep in your stomach. Your cheeks grow sore as you ignore the looks of others. It’s almost easy to forget the frivolity of being in William’s company.

“Shut up and dance with me,” You chuckle. Discarding your cup, you take William’s hand, leading him to the dance floor. He bows as you curtsy, the two of you taking your uniform positions. Step back. Chin up high. Lift your hand. Turn. Each step visibly graceful and painfully robotic, controlled.

“I don’t wish to pressure you, but I cannot help but wonder where your thoughts are on my proposition of sorts,” William says. He makes the dance look easy. Each move carried out as though instinctive.

“Mhm, binding myself to the royal family who currently lacks an heir puts me dangerously close to being wed to a man who could be king someday. You offer not a simple proposition but a hefty proposal that cannot be taken lightly,” Your matter-of-fact tone impedes your count. William shifts right, covering your stumble with a light lift as he turns the both of you. When your feet touch the ground, you grumble a thank you continuing the dance, “I am too uncoordinated.”

“Some could say unique,” William counters. Taking your hand, he spins you gently.

“Unfit,” You fire back, continuing your count, step back. Hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand.

As expected of the dance, William steps forward following your step back. His nose brushes your own as his gaze does not falter, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Without a doubt.”

Your voice catches in your throat, William looking at you as imagine man did upon discovering fire. While your decision remains unclear, you are certain of one thing. The security and companionship of William’s offer. Your eyes glaze over, thoughts flooding your mind all at once. William chuckles softly, pulling away, continuing a simple sway. “I do not aim to make you uncomfortable or pressure you. Only for you to see you as I do.

“It appears Eloise is enjoying this night just as much as you,” William looks over at Eloise. She dances a few paces to your left. Her eyebrows pinched as her eyes narrowed at Lord…you cannot put a name to his face. In seconds the gentleman walks away as Lady Bridgerton follows Eloise to the stairs. Her exchange with her mother does not reach you, but the looks are all too familiar. Lady Violet's unable to understand her daughter but proceeds with gentle patience, Eloise’s frustration. Neither understands the other. You find yourself glancing across the room at your own mother.

She smiles encouragingly, blissfully unaware of your plight. Unable to see the world through your eyes.

“You should go after her,” William says, pulling away from the simple box step you’ve both resigned to. Your eyebrows furrow as William bows, with a fond smile as he speaks, “Eloise Bridgerton. A comely lady of the ton going against the norms of the system set upon them. Sound familiar?”

You cannot stop the smile that spreads across your face. William nudges his head toward the direction Eloise disappeared. Nodding your head, you follow the stairs, passing Penelope on your way. She quickly calls out where to find Eloise. It does not take you long to find her door. You offer two light knocks, turning your head to listen in.

“I wish to be alone!”

“Might I join you? I certainly wish for a reprieve from the farce that occurs in your family home,” Chuckling, you lean on the door frame. Shuffling behind the door greeting you with the distant music of the ball continuing on down the hall. After a few seconds, you are sure she will ignore you, but the opening of the door welcomes you. Eloise sits on the floor a few feet from the door. She pulls at the string of her dress, watching as a piece of hem gently unravels. You take a seat next to her, drumming your fingers against your thighs, “do you wish to talk about it?”

“Being my mothers' disappointment? Not particularly,” Eloise says with a matter-of-fact tone.

“I get it. The feeling is rather draining. Focus on it too much, and you’ll find yourself scrutinizing every detail about yourself,” You say, resting your head back against the wall. The laxness of your tone contrasts her furrowed eyebrows.

“You feel like your mothers' disappointment?” Her incredulous tone earns a chuckle as you nod with a gentle smile. “Not a chance. You’re pretty and charismatic, every mother's dream.”

“Many find me argumentative and blunt. Kate is more reserved. She has mastered proper etiquette. Edwina is the comely charismatic one. Most days, I can’t tell if Mother fears what I might do or what I might say,” Your words leave you quickly, shrugging as you near ramble. Wetting your lips, you chuckle as Eloise continues your rambling, “And even when you say something outside of the norm as they’re expecting, they act as though it surprises them. As if they don’t know our natures.”

“Ah, so my Mom isn’t special. It just comes with the having a mother package, I see,” You jest, chuckling softly as Eloise does as well. Only little shards of the prior remains. A reminder in the music that plays from downstairs as the ball continues. The fancy dresses you both wear that itch at the neckline and constrict your midsection. Reminders in your stations amongst society, “Eloise, we are the second daughters. The middle children, like shadows not clearly seen but fairly visible. Existing behind the first and last born daughters. It may sound like a sad reality, but there’s something rather amazing about us.”

“Being ignored and forced to conform?” Eloise’s eyebrows pinch as she stares at your chuffed stupor.

After a few seconds of staring off with the grin of a fool, you speak. Your voice much like velvet, appearing as though nothing in the world could hurt you, “We get to be whomever we wish, not what our mothers molded us to be for society.”

“Are you certain you don’t want to marry any of my brothers?” Eloise smiles, sliding closer. She rests her head on your shoulder. You kiss the crown of her head before resting your own head on hers. Eloise yawns as her words leave her, resembling a sleepy child as she says, “I do not wish for you to leave. My sisters don’t get me.”

“It’s okay. Sisters aren’t supposed to. It keeps things interesting that way,” You joke, earning a weak chuckle. Eloise does not say a word. She continues resting her head on your shoulder. A few minutes pass before Benedict pokes his head in, and you do your best to help get Eloise to bed. You both walk back to the main room together, where the party continues.

“Eloise seems to really like you,” Benedict says with a big grin. You furrow your eyebrows, looking at him.

“And just what exactly are you implying, Lord Bridgerton?” Your playful and straightened posture earns a laugh.

“Just that whether we become in-laws through our siblings or not, you, Miss Sharma, are always welcome back here. Especially for Pall-Mall,” Benedict says. His smile spreads across his face, even his eyes smiling.

“I will remember this invitation and hold you to it,” You tease, grinning as Benedict assures you his word is his bond. As you both walk, he cuts right at the dance floor. You cut left, following the outskirts of the dance floor. Edwina’s smile shines on the opposite side, the light of a young girl in her eyes. Reaching Edwina’s side, she clings to your arm with a giddy smile.

“Oh, sister! Lord Bridgerton and I have danced twice tonight. Twice!” Edwina exclaims, her smile shining up at you as she interlaces her fingers in yours. She gestures to the dance floor where Kate and Anthony dance. Your eyes stay on them as Edwina speaks, her words not fully registering as Anthony’s eyebrow furrow at something Kate says. Edwina gives your hand a light squeeze, “Oh, Didi, I’m certain he’d not have asked me for two if he did not have intentions for the evening. Kate should be giving her blessing as we speak. Oh, isn’t it all so exciting, sister? We shall both be wed before the season's end!”

“Yeah,” Chuckling softly, your eyes stay on Kate and Anthony. Anthony’s eyes widen before scanning around the room. His search halts as he captures your gaze. Edwina still speaks, oblivious to your lack of attention or how Kate looks between you and your staring partner. Anthony glances at the door and back at you; arching your brow, you turn to Edwina. Your pensive stare eludes her as she rambles with a large smile, painting the vision she sees of your future. Anthony politely bows to Kate before leaving the room as Kate joins you and Edwina. If she notices how your eyes follow Anthony out of the room, she does not give any inkling of it as she nods along to Edwina’s excitement. Your ears ring as the various colored gowns of the room muddle, and your vision splinters. You swallow dryly, the ringing in your ears growing louder. Pulling at the edge of your short-sleeved dress brings a faint cool to your flushed skin.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s voice snaps you back into the present, looking at her with a weak smile.

“Just a bit warm. I think I shall take a moment to get some air,” The words leave you quickly, almost incoherently. You do not look at Kate, her gaze burning a hole into the side of your head. The corridor outside of the ball greets you with low light and a cool breeze from the open back door. Anthony stands on the porch pacing back and forth. You look at him and then glance back at the doors that lead into the ball. You should go back inside, of this you are sure. Despite this, you take a few steps forward, your light efforts capturing his attention. You tilt your head toward the library doors before entering without a word. The room is far more lit than the hall, with many candles and closed windows drying your mouth. You eye the pitcher and cup on the desk, undoubtedly some form of alcohol—hopefully far stronger than wine.

Anthony slams the door behind him, his fists clenching as he paces. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms, your mocking tone filling the silence, “Please just share what I have done this time. The suspense is killing me.”

“When will you leave? Huh?” He asks, furrowing your eyebrows; he gives you no time to speak. A mirthless chuckle leaves his lips, “Oh, Miss Sharma, now you are one for silence?”

“What are you going on about?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at his condescension.

“Your sister speaks of your plans to depart back to India, so when shall you leave?” Anthony grits his teeth, hissing his words as he steps closer to you. Your eyebrows quirk up, staring into his eyes, quickly identifying what lies across his face—utter betrayal. Anthony shakes his head, scoffing, “Of course, you grow silent when one desires you to speak. You live to get under my skin. I’m almost certain god has sent you to punish me.”

“Lord Bridgerton, I fear we have found ourselves in a conundrum that if it ever came to light, I fear my family would never forgive me. We mustn’t confuse our understanding and friendly nature for something entirely different. Yes, I can be infuriating and insolent, but it's a part of my charm, I think. We are just confused. A line is blurring between us,” A weak chuckle leaves your lips. How can one want to punch and kiss someone all at once? You shake your head as though to rid yourself of the thought and feeling. Internally scolding yourself for ignoring Kate’s warnings, you clear your throat, “You seek a wife of perfection, which my sister can provide. That is simply where we must stand.”

“I am a man of honor and of certainty. I have been certain of what I seek of what I want from start to finish in all things. Especially matters of my family, and yet—“ He pauses, inhaling sharply as he looks at you. The look in his eyes that was not there before that you have not seen before.

“Here, in your quick wit and inability to listen to reason, you challenge all I stand on—all my certainty. Your sister and I share understanding, but there is no shroud for what we share,” Anthony stands before you with a look of utter desperation, of devotion. His eyes reflect all you feel. The confusion, the frustration, the desire.

“Lord Bridgerton—” Straightening your posture, you clear your throat. It falls on deaf ears as Anthony steps closer, his hand ghosting over your cheek. The heat of his palm spreads across your face like wildfire that never quite touches. He speaks quietly as though coveting his words “(Y/n). Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me, your mind does not feel the temptation of this dalliance? Do you have no comprehension of how you plague me?”

Your voice sits in your throat. Every muscle in your body tense as though you await something cataclysmic. Neither of you takes your eyes off the other. His hand still cradles the air centimeters from your cheek. The crackling of the fireplace fills the silence.

It all implodes with the faintest tilt of your head into his palm. You both pull forward sharply. His hands cradle your face as your foreheads touch. You place a hand on his shoulder. The proximity dizzying. The feel of him all-consuming. You squeeze your eyes shut, the consequences be damned.

“This is wrong,” You whisper, gripping his shoulder and taking long deep breaths through your nose. His breath tickles your lips as the space between you further closes.

“Oh!” You flinch back, Daphne’s eyes looking from you to her brother. Her eyes are wide as Anthony steps toward her. She looks back at you, speaking softly as your glassy eyes stare back at her like a fearful child, “I’m sorry.”

Daphne leaves the room hastily, with Anthony chasing behind her. You walk to the desk, pouring a quick glass of the drink. The drink makes you grimace as you swallow it down in one go. You do not look up as the door opens again, crying out desperately, “I require something stronger, please!”

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says softly. You rest your hands flat on the desk letting your head hang as your tears fall beneath you. She pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob into her shoulder. You refuse to share the source of your despair, your thoughts haunting you. Kate was right. Even William was aware, “Oh (Y/n).”

“Didi, it’s all wrong. It’s all wrong! ” You cry out, looking up at her. She cradles your face. All red and puffy.

“Bon, we will get through this, I promise you. Wipe your tears and show me the fearsome (Y/n) I know.” Kate says, kissing your forehead. She takes you up to bed, tucking you in, even brushing her fingers through your hair as you quietly cry with your back toward her. When Edwina stops in, she offers well wishes before bed. It only fuels the fire of your despair.

The following day, you rise early, bathing before hastily packing your things. You thank the heavens that Kate makes no mention of the night prior, nor does Daphne. Your goodbyes? Almost robotic as you anxiously await packing away into the carriage and leaving Aubrey Hall behind. Kate holds your hand, offering occasional light squeezes as the three of you stand by the carriage. Edwina glances at your interlaced hands and says nothing as she takes your free hand in her own, kissing the top of your hand.

The slight chill of the morning breeze does nothing to cool the warmth that holds you captive. Your palms are sweaty as your stomach wrestles itself. You look at Edwina on the brink of tears, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight.

“Sister, are you alright?” Edwina’s head tilts as she gently squeezes your hand. Your throat drying just before you can find your words.

“Um, I need to—“ You speak quietly, the calling of wait making you tense as you all turn toward the front door of Aubrey Hall. Anthony marches down the stairs with unwavering confidence, squeezing Kate’s hand tight; you swallow dryly.

“May I speak with you?” He says. You fail to notice how Edwina slips her hand out of yours as well as how Anthony's eyes do not meet your own. Your ears ring so loud you do not hear the words that leave Anthony’s lips, only registering the knee he takes as he holds a ring out to Edwina. Kate whispers in your ear, coaching you to keep it together as your nails dig into her palms. Edwina’s eyes are large and shining. She looks at you and Kate. The smokescreen of pending nuptials blinds her to the mournful look that holds your face. Your mother focuses too intently on Edwina and Anthony to notice but Lady Danbury? Lady Danbury eyes you with a knowing look, but still, she says nothing. As the seconds pass like hours, your expression sharpens as though the despair never existed. You look at Kate, offering a curt nod.

“I do wonder about the trim. Is it too much?” Edwina asks, standing up on the podium as your mother beams up at her. You are certain the last you saw her so happy was when your father was still alive. Sitting by the window, you lazily peer out at nothing in particular. No one comments on your icy demeanor, but you know they have noticed it.

“Nothing is too much now that the Queen is hosting,” Your mother smiles, looking from Edwina to the Modiste. As your mother continues to look over different fabrics, Edwina may like the room grows silent in her absence. Kate steals glances at you as Edwina takes in the view of her gown.

“Did I mention we will be married by the archbishop himself?” Edwina says gleefully. Kate's smile does not reach her eyes as she nods and watches you. The bride-to-be glances over at you with a frown, “Sister, did something happen between you and the Duke? You’ve been unwell since the last night before we left Aubrey Hall.”

“We are fine,” Your flat tone barely audible as you continue eyeing the bustling road outside.

“Sister, you should accept his proposal. Then we would both have royal weddings, and you would be a royal! The Queen already adores you, and I’ve seen the way Lord Beauregard looks at you,” Edwina says, her smile large and tone encouraging. You purse your lips looking over at Kate. She holds your gaze before you turn back to the window. Edwina frowns, observing the brief moment, but she says nothing. Instead, she maintains her smile, “We must get you both dresses as well. Special ones. This wedding is as much both for your triumphs as it is for mine. Both of you clearly said something that swayed him to declare himself.”

“We cannot claim credit, Bon,” Kate says, chuckling slowly while shaking her head, but Edwina insists. You chew on your bottom lip, ignoring the burn of your throat, blinking continuously. Kate reminds Edwina that you both plan to leave after the wedding if you have not accepted William’s proposal.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you hide away in your shared room, sitting by the window lazily drumming your fingers against your leg. You let out a frustrated huff, your sulking growing utterly dull. Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at your room door, perhaps a venture outside. You stick your head out of the door, looking down both sides of the corridor before stepping lightly out. Where your mother is currently is not to your knowledge, but you know she will prevent wandering if she catches wind of it. You move carefully past the tearoom, freezing in your tracks.

“—nothing appropriate about what you’re doing proceeding with your engagement,” Kate seethes. Frowning, you press your ear to the door.

“On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all,” Anthony says, rolling your eyes as you glare at the door as though he stands before you.

“Oh, and what of everything that has happened between you and my sister at Aubrey Hall?” Kate says. The silence tenses every muscle in your body as you await his answer.

“Nothing passed between Miss (Y/n) and I,” Anthony says cooly, a blatant lie. You bawl your fists. How dare he! Opening your eyes to something you could have easily continued oblivious to, only to shut you out completely. You march off to the stairs, stopping at the sight of your mother and sister at the bottom of them.

“Is that so? If I recall correctly, you appeared angrier than hornets at the prospect of her departure,” Kate says, “I can recall the way your eyes find her in every room. The way you look at her, far more than a prospective brother-in-law. If she accepts Lord Beauregard’s proposal, you will be bound to each other in a tortuous way forever. ”

“Would Miss (Y/n) and I being the ones to marry after all my public courting of Miss Edwina, be the outcome you desire?” Anthony asks. You greet them with a large smile stalling as you scratch the back of your neck.

“No, but I’m certain it’s yours,” Kate says. You make certain to enter the room first, giving Lord Bridgerton and Kate a moment to step away from each other. Anthony greets your sister and mother with a polite smile. It falters as he meets your gaze. You roll your eyes quickly, averting your gaze to your mother.

“I will return in seconds. You lot can begin without me,” You sputter, leaving the room before your mother can protest. She calls out to you, but you are already out of the door and halfway down the stairs. A pair of hands steadying you at your waist as you crash into a chest.

“Easy there. Are you always so spritely?” William chuckles, offering a warm grin as you recollect yourself. He frowns, taking a good look at you, “(Y/n) are you—?”

“If we were to wed, would you consider coming to India?” You ask. It’s selfish and wrong, complicating your situation even further if possible.

“I uh—well, I could, but once my grandfather leaves us, I will have to return. His responsibilities shall fall to me,” William says, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at you, “(Y/n) I only want you to consider this if you truly see it in your future.”

“Let’s not fret over it now. Mother will wish to see you. Come,” You take his arm, pulling him along with you to the tearoom. Your mother and Edwina smile happily at William’s presence in the room. Anthony stares at the two of you, his eyes locked on your intertwined arms.

“Well, now that you are all here. I have news. Lord and Lady Sheffield sent word they are in London,” Lady Danbury says. You do not hide your grimace, looking up at Lady Danbury in pure disgust. Kate looks at your mother as Edwina smiles.

“Our grandparents?” Edwina says, looking at you. You look down at the door, counting each line you can see in the wood.

“Indeed. It seems they read the engagement announcement and wish to make your acquaintance and, uh, that of your future husband, of course,” Lady Danbury ignores the lack of reaction from all of you except Edwina. You scoff quietly, muttering to yourself, “Of course they do.”

“They are already in town?” Kate asks. William glances between you and your family, and so does Anthony. The best friends look at each other before Anthony addresses the elephant in the room. You glance at your mother, the way she controls her shallow breathing—looking around as though seeking an escape. Her mannerisms are familiar, too familiar.

Anthony escorts Edwina to the promenade as William escorts you. Your disposition even lower than before somehow. William stops in his tracks, crossing his arms. You stop not looking up, just waiting for him to rejoin you. When he does not, you look up with a frown.

“I’ve never seen you so, so gloomy. There must be some form of an insult or jest just charging up in there,” William smiles gently, watching as you shake your head, lowering your gaze. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

You sigh as the two of you walk again, nodding your head slowly, “My grandparents are just awful. Overcritical and impossible to please. I’m in no mood for them presently.”

“Well then, before the impending doom that comes from your grandparents' presence, perhaps you shall humor me?” William asks, standing on the ports and gesturing to the secured rowboat. “If I become insufferable, I will happily allow you to throw me overboard.”

“Promise?” You say quietly, fighting the grin that takes your lips as William smirks.

“You have my word,” He says, offering his hand out to her. She takes it, allowing him to help her into the board. He then gets in himself, untying the rope and pushing off the port. “In the colder season, this freezes over. It’s rather fun to step on the top of the ice and glide around. I tend to fall a lot doing it, but it’s all in good fun, I swear it.”

“Really?” The laugh that leaves your lips appears foreign, replacing your petulant stares. You look over the side of the water, picturing William struggling to stay atop the frozen terrain.

“Careful, you’re tilting the boat,” William says, raising an eyebrow. You smirk. Your eyes shine with a glint of mischief.

“What, like this?” You say, shifting your weight from one side to the other William gives grips the edge of the boat, giving you a hard stare. After a few seconds, it melts into a grin as he dips his hand in the water, splashing it up at you. You squeal, shielding your face as you splash water up at him. The two of you laugh like giddy children, gaining the attention of the many who walk around the promenade.

Kate chaperones Edwina and Anthony. They watch the two of you. Anthony’s gaze does not leave your form. Edwina’s words fall on deaf ears as he locks onto your laughter. Your younger sister gasping, pulls Anthony back into the present as the boat overturns, sending both you and William into the water. Both you and William resurface, laughing infectiously, not caring how everyone watches the two of you.

“You tipped the boat over, not me!” You exclaim, helping William push the boat toward the port.

“Says the one who insisted on rocking the boat,” William playfully scoffs as the two of you near the port flipping the boat right side up. You look up, grinning as Kate shakes her head at you, and Edwina happily points out your better mood.

“It seems you always know how to lift her spirits, Lord Beauregard,” Edwina says with a smile. William smiles at your sister, giving her a polite nod, his smile lessening as his gaze moves to Anthony.

“Miss Sharma, please allow me,” Anthony says, offering his hand out to you as he bends down. You stare at it, set on ignoring it, but Kate gives you a look as she gestures to the wandering eyes around you all. Accepting his hand begrudgingly, you quickly pull away from him, standing next to Kate. Your dress clings to you, dripping water down your entire body. William climbs onto the pier turning to fasten the boat back to the log, but Anthony’s already tying it tight.

“Fret not, friend. You always did struggle with tying knots,” The dig’s not lost on you nor Kate. You glare at Anthony, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Anthony and William stare at each other, the tension high as you look around, noticing the other onlookers growing. You narrow your eyes, stepping forward and pushing your palm against Anthony’s side. He stumbles forward into William, the two crashing into the lake.

Your jaw drops as they hurdle into the water, Edwina exclaiming your name as you fail to fight back your laughter. The water splashing up at the three of you, only fueling your amusement. Kate's eyes widen as her gaze bounces between you and the two lords in the water.

Anthony plants his hands flat on the pier glaring up at you as he lifts himself up first. His soaking-wet shirt now sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. Kate nudges your side, reminding both you and Edwina of the inappropriate nature of staring. Even as the words leave her lips, the three of you shamelessly watch him. The show not ending as William pulls himself up. It’s wrong, oh so wrong, but every passing thought in your mind bubbles, leaving a warmth at your core.

“That was fun,” Smiling, you look between your sisters, who both shake their heads at you. Kate suggests it’s time to head back in worry of you getting sick. Your dress still drips water as you casually bounce on the balls of your feet. In the carriage, you sit next to Kate, resting your head on her shoulder while gently kicking Edwina’s feet.

“Bon, your hair is still wet,” Kate sighs, failing to shrug you off. Edwina giggles softly, moving her feet as you follow hers.

“Quite observant, Miss Sharma,” You chuckle, rubbing your hair against her side, earning a groan as she pushes you away. Edwina covers her soft chuckles with her hand as she watches the two of you. The carriage ride’s mostly quiet beyond a few snickers and Kate’s annoyance with your persistence.

Back at Lady Danbury’s, you openly gape at the sight of an indisputable fact—you are indeed your mothers' child. For hours your mother rushes around like a mad woman. She rushes about the house between making sure you all wear the perfect dress to the intricate styles of your hair and the jewelry you accessorize with. Not a single thing out of place, snarkily reminding you that today’s not the day for nonsense, as she calls it.

Kate offers you a weak smile as you roll your eyes grumbling beneath your breath. If either your mother or Kate dislikes the Sheffields more than you, they hide it well. The last time you can recall seeing them at the ripe age of five, you glared at them for the entirety of your visit. Their interest only stemming from the gossip about your exciting personality, to later deem you unruly. You never did understand why your mother even sent you there. The damage—irreversible.

“It’s just one dinner,” Kate says, fiddling gently with your hair smoothing out every little menial imperfection.

“Yes, one dinner of those people we have to call family scrutinizing every little detail about us. About mother. About you,” You take a deep breath, your expression hardening as you swallow dryly. Edwina enters the room doing a light twirl, her smile large. There’s a clear difference between who can remember meeting the Sheffields and who does not. Edwina’s smile falters at the sight of your pensive stare. She walks, placing her hands on your shoulders with an encouraging smile.

“There is still time to take a small nap if you need didi. I can distract Mama,” Edwina says, chuckling softly as you shake your head, leaning your head onto her hand.

“I appreciate it, bon, but I know a nap will do nothing but agitate me further,” You glance at the door watching your mother jet past. A chuckle leaves your lips, “And quite frankly, Mama as well.”

“Edwina dear, I need to speak with your sister alone,” Your mother enters the room, taking a deep breath as she softly pants. Edwina smiles, nodding her head and leaving the room without a further word. Lady Mary looks at you with her lips pursed.

“I know, Mother. I do not require further instructions for dinner tonight. Be punctual, proper, and pleasant,” You huff, crossing your arms. Lady Mary sighs, walking over. She takes your hands.

“Oh, my wildflower child, you are all those things. I’ve come not to lecture you but to check on you. I know you carry strong feelings about my parents, and if at any point this dinner is too much, you do not have to stay for the entirety of it,” She says softly. You know her words are untrue. To leave dinner so abruptly would only further their thoughts of you.

“Right, so they can nod their heads and look down on me as the defective one of their bloodline. I will not,” Your words are sharp and tense. You stand with perfect posture. Lady Mary shakes her head, but her protests mean nothing, do nothing. You stand, appearing the complete antithesis of the girl everyone knows. “If I could get through two weeks of your parents as a child, then I can get through one dinner. I no longer wish to continue discussing this topic, Mother.”

She takes a half step back from you, keeping your hands in hers. The glint in her eyes as familiar as the one all those years ago when you returned home, guilt. She does not say another word. Nodding her head, she kisses the tops of your hands softly before leaving the room. You fan yourself with your hands, the room uncomfortably hot. The faint tremble of your hands clear as you clasp them in front of you, taking a long deep breath.

After a few minutes, you leave the room in search of your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles, walking with her cane as she calls out to you. She compliments your appearance, the rich red gown complimenting your skin tone. Lady Danbury wears her knowing smirk with a present glint in her eyes, seemingly always present. The two of you enter the room together, clearly interrupting your sisters. Lady Danbury smiles as you appear ready to walk the plank.

“Our guests have arrived,” Lady Danbury announces with a large smile. Her eyes solely on Edwina, who giggles with a giddy smile, leaving the room hastily. Before either of you can follow, Lady Danbury's hand shoots out, halting you as she sidesteps Kate. Her smile falls as eyes look between the two of you.

“You may spare us the instruction, Lady Danbury. We know we are to be on our best behavior,” Kate says with a polite smile. You bite the inside of your cheek, staring off with a blank expression.

“You think me an unfeeling harridan,” She says to Kate before turning to look at you, “and you hide from me as though I see right through you. Well, ladies, I am hosting this dinner for both your sakes.”

“You know nothing of my relationship with those people,” You scoff, glaring up at her.

“And yet I do,” Lady Danbury says, her gaze softening just a tad. Mother told her. You look away from her crossing your arms as you shift on the balls of your feet. “Going forward, Edwina’s betrothal may be the end of certain hopes you’ve harbored regarding the Viscount but access to the Sheffield fortune.”

“I want nothing to do with those people or the Viscount. I will take a lifetime of struggle before I am under the Sheffields' control or ruin this for Edwina. You speak so far out of place,” You narrow your eyes at her, but she merely chuckles.

“Oh dear, you can do better than that. Dear, the life of independence you seek is close, Kate. And you (Y/n)? You have been presented with an opportunity of a lifetime. A marriage to a royal. Security for the rest of your life and full independence from your grandparents. I implore you both to think of the reward of the coming events. Think of your futures. Deny the feelings and passions as you please, but once it cools. You dear have an abundant future ahead of you, where you and your sisters are happy,” Lady Danbury stands in front of both of you. Nostalgia dances in her eyes as she smiles with a bittersweetness to her expression. You blink away the heat in your eyes, taking a deep breath to will away the bundle of nerves that dance in your stomach. When neither of you says a word, Lady Danbury smiles once more, “Come along, girls, it’s time for dinner.”

In the hallway, Edwina follows closely behind Lady Danbury. Her light pink dress sparkling in the warm candlelight. You walk with your arm folded into Kate’s, your jewel-tone gowns matching just as much as your forced polite smiles.

“Ah, Lord and Lady Sheffield, it has been too long,” Lady Danbury’s jubilant demeanor easing the suffocating tension. Not long enough, in any other circumstance, these words leave your lips, but now? Now you keep your head high and posture statue-like, “May I present Miss Sharma, Miss (Y/n), and Miss Edwina Sharma.”

You and Edwina stand before your grandparents with differing expressions as Lady and Lord Sheffield take you both in.

“Oh, my dears, look at the two of you. Aren’t they lovely?” Lady Sheffield gushes, looking between the two of you. You meet Lord Sheffield's gaze, both of you eyeing the other with similar scrutiny. Edwina voices pleasantries for the both of you. Their questions and invitations flowed quickly, evidently aimed at Edwina. They remember you just as vividly as you remember them. Still, you keep your head high, posture perfect, and expression neutral.

“Mother. Father,” Your mother greets them, leaving a chilling silence in her wake.

“I do enjoy the opera. My sister Kate is the one who introduced me to it,” Edwina says, maintaining her high spirits as she smiles over at Kate. Your jaw clenches at the forced smile Lady Sheffield sends Kate’s way, her disapproval coated in honey. Another painstakingly loud silence follows before Lady Danbury recommends they all head to the dinner table. Her diversion from the simmering tension was swift, temporarily successful.

You meet Anthony’s gaze, offering a mocking smile before following behind the others. His eyes follow you into the room, a soft sigh leaving his lips as you join Kate’s side. Edwina walks hand in hand with Lady Sheffield, who dotes upon her.

At the table, Kate sits to your right, with Lady Sheffield to your left. To your further misfortune, Anthony sits in front of you. You ignore the hole he stares into your head at the start of dinner.

“And, of course, you must be our guests at the Sheffield Manor. It is nothing compared to the estates at Aubrey Hall, to be sure, but I think it a most pretty part of Hertfordshire,” You stare at the place setting as though it’s the most incredible thing you have ever seen. Analyzing every minuscule detail of the fall colors as a better alternative to the active conversation. If you notice the glances from Kate and Anthony, you do not show it.

“Do you shoot? We a have a fine stock of birds, and you're always welcome,” Lord Sheffield says, his voice booming through the dining room. Anthony’s gaze flicks from you to your grandfather. He thanks Lord Sheffield for the invitation, expressing his enjoyment in shooting.

“Kate and (Y/n) do as well. (Y/n) is an excellent tracker, and Kate, a great shot. A most efficient duo. All three of them nearly bagged a stag on our trip to the country,” Edwina looks at you, smiling. You mirror her smile before lowering your gaze once more. The cold food and untouched table setting sit staring back at you. Lady Sheffield's mirthless chuckle fills your ears as she looks over at you. Her faux saccharine smile and words pointed, “How unusual. Do they teach young ladies to hunt and shoot in India?”

“Only the fortunate ones,” Kate mutters, snickering; you bite the inside of your cheek. It’s the first real smile on your lips all night. You catch your mothers' smirk at Kate, her gaze shifting to you. She wears a soft smile.

“Uh, Lord and Lady Sheffield, how long do you plan to stay in town?” Kate asks politely. You reach for your cup of wine, taking a long sip. Say in the morning, preferably in the hour.

“Oh, we shall stay for the wedding. And of course, for (Y/n)’s when she weds the Queen’s nephew,” Lady Sheffield speaks definitely with merriment to her tone. She speaks as though she’s boasting of something she’s accomplished as if she knows you—any of you truly.

“I have yet to decide if I will accept his proposal,” Your neutral facade wavers, your jaw clenching once more. The grip on your glass so tight that the brown of your knuckles shines white.

“Oh nonsense dear, you shall not let such a generous offer pass you,” Lady Sheffield chuckles as though she shares a beautiful joke. Only Lord Sheffield laughs. You take a deep breath covering your grimace with another long sip of wine. The bounce of your leg beneath the tablecloth gently rattles the glass atop the table. To your disdain, Lady Sheffield continues, “Imagine. The Queen herself overseeing my granddaughter's nuptials and welcoming my other granddaughter into her own family, with all things considered. Her majesty is kind to be so forgiving after everything that has happened.”

“Now, now. We are all family here,” Lord Sheffield says. You finish your wine, letting out a long shaky sigh. To your surprise, your grandfather tries and fails to deter his wife.

“An earl, no less than twelve thousand acres. Any other young lady would’ve fallen to her knees in gratitude that her parents were showing such care,” Lady Sheffield says. You glance at your mother, your patience thinning by the second. She shakes her head slightly. Lady Violet's attempts to switch the topic falls on ears, your deep breaths growing louder. Even Lady Danbury tries to engage Lady Sheffield in pleasant conversation, but it’s clear the elephant in the room will not be ignored. “And all for what? A mere clerk, was he? And with a child from a previous marriage to God-knows-who.”

“My mother has a name,” Kate maintains an even tone, her shoulders squaring as you now openly glare at your grandmother. The wine warms your skin, shoving you closer to your wit's end.

“We could not show our faces in society for years. Not that she should care. She simply sailed away from all of us with that man,” Lady Sheffields says, your fist hitting the table with a loud bang. Reveling in how she flinches, her eyes widen at your nerve. The room stills, all eyes on you.

“That man is my father, and you do well to speak of him with reverence. You cry about appearance in society when you ignore your beautiful family in favor of acrimonious feelings toward the glue that holds the three of us together. Kate may not share our mother, but she is the very best of us. So you will not sit here and speak ill of her before me,” You practically hiss your words as you stare at your grandmother. There’s so much more that you must say that you want to say, but as always, you are never truly heard.

“Dear, we do not aim to hurt you or your half-sister. It is your mother who sailed away with that man robbing us of our two grandchildren.” Lady Sheffield ignores your comment about your father, omitting him entirely. The tenderness in her words like poison in your ears.

“Three. Your three grandchildren. I have three daughters with whom you have had every opportunity to form a connection. Like a fool, I sent one of them in hopes of you all fostering a connection only for her to return, unlike herself. But at the end of it all, the choice to shun us was yours alone,” Your mother speaks with an impressive blend of being stern and soft-spoken. “And do not think I took it lightly being cast out by the only family I had ever known. I was heartbroken, indeed. But in time, I came to see that, in your cruelty, you did us all a great service.”

“Mother, you require no explanation for these people,” You say, earning a warm smile from your mother as she looks at you.

“I have always admired your warrior spirit, my sweet girl, but this is not your fight,” Lady Mary says. You nod your head swallowing thickly as Lord Sheffield tries to dissuade you all from continuing. Your mother stares at her own, “When you cast me out, you set me free. Free to raise my daughters far from your constant judgment and craven demands that they should chase wealth and titles above all else!”

You smile to yourself. Never had you seen your mother so defiant. Never had you felt so close to her, so like her. Lady Sheffield scoffs, “You are a fine one to talk. You turn your nose up at my parenting but look at your children. The child not of this family is a spinster who muddles the very integrity and reputation of your own daughters. (Y/n) shoots and speaks with volatility unbecoming of a young lady. It’s a miracle she has the prospect of securing English nobility? It is clear Edwina will succeed, and I will always question the very foundation of how with such influences.”

Unbecoming. Unfit. Unworthy.

The words ring loudly in your ears, inhaling sharply, the table squabble no longer reaches you. Your shoulders drop as your stomach turns. Lady Sheffield rehashing the terms of yours and Edwina’s trust fund barely reaching you. You swallow the burn in your throat, struggling to blink away the water that wells in your eyes. Gaze low; the high-pitched ringing in your ears—disorienting.

“That is enough!” Anthony’s voice rips you from your own head. He looks from your grandmother to meet your teary-eyed gaze. His own only softens for a second at the sight of you before turning back to your grandparents, his expression one of frustration, “I can only think you’ve been exiled from good society because of your deficient manners rather than any other sin. Since the moment you arrived, you have failed to show the proper respect for the Sharma family and I will not stand for it.”

“I declare—“ Lord Sheffield says.

“I will not stand for it. Lady Mary has done admirably in raising her daughters. They are intelligent, kind, and loyal women. A credit to both their parents. And since you clearly do not wish to jeopardize your social standing by associating with such company, I suggest you do not. You may leave at once!” Anthony declares, staring at him. Your head spins as it did that night in Aubrey Hall. The weight of your reality harrowing as you glance at Edwina. Anthony rises from his chair. Your grandmother voices her disbelief as he walks away from the table. Standing by the door, he calls out, “Please send for Lord and Lady Sheffield’s carriage. They can wait outside. And do not trouble yourself waiting for an invitation to the wedding, for you shall not receive one.”

Your mother’s the first to apologize, but Anthony sternly announces he and his mother will be departing immediately. The tension in the air far more thick than it began. Your mother and Kate run after Edwina leaving you and Lady Danbury alone. After a few seconds, you exit the room without a further word, ignoring her knowing stare. You do not realize where your feet carry you through the corridors until you see the back of Lady Violet and Anthony.

“Lord Bridgerton, a word,” You call out, narrowing your eyes as he disregards you, “I have spent this night being insulted and humiliated. All I’m asking for is a moment of your time.”

“I owe you nothing,” Anthony huffs, looking back at you. You tilt your head, not needing to say, but you do with actual words. He pauses, sighing before telling his mother he will meet her at their home. You walk him to one of the many side rooms, your words leaving you quickly as you assure him Edwina did not know.

“It is clear she was as much in the dark as I. I am not upset with your sister. Is there something further you wish to discuss?” Anthony speaks sternly, his hands behind his back as he glowers at you.

Your eyebrows furrow, his understanding words not matching his expression. You continue cautiously, “No, uh, I just wanted to thank you for what you did back in there.”

“That is of no import. I take it there’ll be no dowry. Now that the Sheffields have withdrawn their support,” He speaks mechanically, like a cog in the machine of English nobility. You open your mouth, but no words leave you, “I’ll take your silence as confirmation. Clearly, both Miss Edwina and I have been misled, and it is best to call off this doomed engagement.”

“Oh, now you suddenly lack the desire to wed my sister,” You scoff, shaking your head, narrowing your eyes at him, “I am many things, but a fool is not one. Something is happening between us, and you’re using this lapse as an out for the mess you put us in.”

“Says the one who weaponizes her disdain for marriage as a tool against her grandparents,” He counters his accusatory tone and steps forward, doing little to faze you.

“The resentment of my grandparents and my resulting outlook on marriage is of no consequence to our dilemma. You are to wed Edwina, and I am to return to India with Kate,” You watch as his jaw clenches at the mention of India. Rolling your eyes, you huff, “Why do you insist upon casting Edwina aside?”

“You are the very source of all my strenuous relationships. I jeopardize my longest and dearest friendship due to your very presence. Your sister, Kathani, battles me daily not against my union with Miss Edwina but how I look upon you. Now you wish me to bind myself to you for all eternity, doomed to never have you in the light to which I desire. I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honor, but that honor thins and weakens with every interaction we share. Vanquishing you from my mind proves to be futile, as you plague my being without endless.” You move away from pacing faintly as you shake your head. His eyes stay on you, longing—pleading for a response.

“No, Lord Bridgerton. I cannot—I will not take part in this dalliance any longer. You confuse your feelings. Edwina is who you seek,” You speak barely above a whisper, your voice catching in your throat as he steps closer again. His hand on your cheek.

“Yet you are who I found. You challenge my feelings, yet you make no objection to my close proximity. You told your sister you intend to bend my nerves till they break. Miss Sharma, they have broken. Give me your love, hate, disgust. I want it all as long as it comes from you, only from you. You are infectious and come without a cure,” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your own. Shamelessly allowing him to drink you in, and as fast as the moment comes, it goes. He pulls away, walking hastily to the door, his words low, “I must take my leave.”

You let out a breath you had not been aware of holding. Your hand comes to cover your lips as your tears flow. The door opens once more, but you do not look up, uncaring of who has found you.

“Oh, Bon,” Kate says at your side. She pulls you into her arms. She knows the looks, the pauses, the warnings—Kate’s known all along.

“Didi, I fear you have been right. The Viscount and I dance around feelings I cannot explain nor reveal to Bon. I have ruined everything. I will ruin everything.” Kate shushes you softly, cradling you in her arms like an injured animal. When she finally coaxes you to walk with her to your shared room, you cannot meet Edwina’s eye inside.

“Oh, Didi,” Edwina gasps, taking your hands as she leans down, attempting to meet your gaze. You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath in as you build your courage.

“Bon, I fear you will hate me, but you must know I carried no intention to keep this from you so—” Your voice wavers as you still fail to meet her eye. Once the words are out, you cannot hide them. Not from Edwina, not from yourself.

“Didi, I could never hate you. I understand your disdain against marriage now, and once I am married to the Viscount, there will be ample funds to provide for all of us,” Her words strike you quickly. You say her name softly, but she shakes her head, “I want nothing more than to be his wife. His Viscountess. But first, he must forgive us. Do you think he will?”

Kate glances at you, your teary-eyed expression hardening. Before your sister's eyes, you bury it. You bury it so deep that not even looking in the mirror will show you signs of it. You clear your throat nodding your head, “He will. I will make certain of it, Bon.”

You lay with Edwina in her bed, rubbing her scalp as you soothe her to bed. As sleep captures her, you look at Kate. Mouthing your words, ending the previous conversation for good.

“He must marry Edwina.”

169 notes · View notes

wlw-imagines · 1 year

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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.

456 notes · View notes

wysteria-clad · 2 years

Text

Being the youngest Bridgerton sister would include:

paring: Bridgerton siblings x sister! reader

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: This is where the reader is Hyacinth's younger twin sister, the reader is a kid around 11 - 12.

Gif credits x, x, x, x

Listen to this audio while reading this for better experience <3

If you enjoy Bridgerton sis fics, you will like this too - Sickness and Siblings

● You will never get bored having eight siblings around.

● Your sisters practicing makeup & hairstyles on you and vice versa, there are maids, but still.

● Playing all sorts of games with your siblings from hide & seek, tag, to pall mall.

Anthony still remembers when you and Hyacinth were just toddlers, he and Benedict, Colin would throw you and your twins sister up in the air and catching you both, talking turns in doing so, almost giving Violet a heart attack. But you were an absolutely happy, giggling baby.

● Playing in the garden with Daphne and Francesca. Eloise is not interested in playing outside much, she prefers a book. So you make flower crowns for all your siblings.

● Forcing Pleading Anthony to wear a flower crown with your puppy eyes.

"No"

"Please, brother!"

"No, Y/n/n"

Cue your puppy eyes. How can he say no to that?

Benedict doesn't mind, in fact he loves it beause it makes you smile and happy.

Colin acts he is too cool for that but lets face it, no one is immune to your puppy eyes. Then he demands he looks better than Daphne with it. Leave them to bicker among themselves.

Daphne rocks it looking like a princess straight out of a fairy tale.

Eloise doesn't even notice you placed a flower crown on her head, her face buried in the book.

Francesca is already wearing it cause you and her made the crowns in the first place.

Gregory. He protests at first, but after little persuasion, he wears it.

Hyacinth absolutely loves it.

Your mother smiles to herself, her eyes set on the sight of all her children wearing the flower crowns, light hearted teasing comments and laughter surrounding them.

● Giving Violet flowers whenever you can and melting her heart, "My sweet child" she tears up.

● Ganging up on Gregory with Hyacinth when he pulls the 'I'm the oldest' card with 'well, we are taller than you'

● "Mama, Gregory pulled my ribbon! Again!"

"She started it!"

"Children, quit it!"

● Often get called 'TTT' (The Troublesome Trio alias The Triple Threat), a moniker Gregory, Hyacinth and you earned.

● Annoying your siblings (affectionate) whenever you can, because you are bored and you can.

"Benedict, I am bored!" you drawl out, lying down on the canapé and resting your legs on his lap.

● Following around your big brother Anthony, mimicking his gestures behind his back, he doesn't realise it until the maids giggle. He turns around with playful glare & you run away giggling with him chasing you.

You run past Daphne, Benedict, Colin and almost crashing into slightly exasperated Violet yelling, 'Y/n Bridgerton, do not run inside the house!'

And hiding in Colin's room, and him playing along saying he didn't see you when Anthony asks. There is a reason he is your favourite brother. But shh, don't let your other brothers hear that though.

● First one to genuinely show interest in Benedict's art and encouraging him whenever he shows you his art reluctantly , you can be quite persuasive when you want.

"I don't understand why keep saying it is not enough, brother" you say, picking up yet another scrunched paper with his art.

"It's the hands" he let's out an annoyed sigh, "I can't get them right"

"Oh, you will" you say, resting your head on his shoulder peeking straight at his sketche as he draws. "What are you sketching now?"

"Do you mind?" he leans forward, closing his sketch book, making your head jerk in the process.

"Hey!" you don't give up yet. You move over and sit next to him, making yourself comfortable.

"If i were to show you, will you stop pestering me, Y/n/n?"

"Perhaps, no promises though"

He let's out a sigh. Why do you have to be so stubborn again?

"My word! Brother, this is amazing!" you exclaim with wonder, eyeing his art.

He smiles at your words, he wouldn't say it loud exactly but he very much appreciates your support.

● "Mama, might i be able to learn horse riding now?"

"You are still too young for that, dear"

"I'm taller than Gregory"

"Not old enough" Colin ruffles your hair, you swat his hand with a glare and cross your arms.

● Tearing up when Daphne leaves after marrying Simon.

Every fondest memory with her flashes in your head.

"Daphne, wait!" you yell, right when she is about to get on the carriage, startling everyone, including Simon.

She pauses with 'what's wrong Y/n' look at you?

You don't wait, you practically sprint towards her wrapping your arms around her waist. "I will miss you terribly" you admit honestly.

"Oh, Y/n/n" her face easing into a bittersweet smile. She can't cry in front of you.

"I will miss you too, sweetheart" she hugs you back.

She is the one you go to when you get nightmares after reading a horror novel, despite your mother, Daphne, Anthony advised you against it.

And when you knock on her door in the middle of the night. All her 'I told you so' speech slips her mind when she sees your scared self. Without a question, you hop into her bed cuddling her and relaxing in her comforting presence. You instantly fall asleep listening to her singing, forgetting your bad dreams.

Despite the situation, she smiles at your curling form next to her and sleeping to her singing just like you used to when you were a small child.

"Promise you will write?"

Your voice brings her back to the present.

"Every month" she promises you, kissing your head and letting you go.

Your family watches the scene with a warm smile of their own, your mother dabs her eye with a napkin.

You run back to them and Benedict immediately pulls you to his side, putting his arm around you, pulling you in for a side hug and muttering, "It will be alright, Y/n/n"

You nod at his words, very much welcoming his comforting words and gesture, and smiling at your sister once again, bidding her farewell.

● Being the constant subject of teasing and the victim of their pranks.

They did try to prank you that one time and that did not end well for them.

One fine breezy morning, you took a nap in the morning when your family had planned a picnic near Thames after few hours.

An hour later, you woke up disoriented and mildly annoyed.

"Oh, Y/n, you should have seen it, it was so fun!"

What was fun? You rubbed your eyes.

Anthony bought us so much sweets Hyacinth gushed excitedly.

"You missed all the fun" Eloise joined in.

"I don't believe you"

Then it clicked. Did they really went without you? Surely, it can't be true. They would not leave you.

Francesca entered the room, grinning happily. "Y/n/n, you slept for too long!" she said, followed by Colin.

"The sleeping beauty is finally awake!"

Were you sleeping that long?

"You are all lying" you half hoped, your voice mix of anger and sadness. Your eyes almost tearing up.

Did they really ignore you and went to the picnic without you?

Colin shrugged, "Why would we?"

He was always so convincing and good at lying.

Francesca averted her eyes, if she were to look at your face one more time, she would burst and confess the prank.

"Mama!" you called out your mother, rushing to her, your sleepiness long gone, eyes now full of tears, your voice shaky.

Uh oh.

Your siblings looked at eachother in panic and regret. It was just meant to be a harmless prank.

"Y/n/n!" they ran after you to stop you and confess, each of them feeling bad when they saw your face.

Only for them to meet with Anthony's angry eyes.

"My dear sister, we would never ever leave you, you hear me?" Anthony bent down to your height. "I would never leave you"

His words was about the picnic but you both knew it was more than that.

A promise.

You nodded as he wiped your tears with his thumb.

● Being sad again when Colin leaves for tour.

You are going to miss his teasing and jokes even though you act like you hate it.

"Do not forget to bring me a gift" Gregory told Colin.

"It is not a gift if you have to ask" Hyacinth turned to him before looking at Colin. "I would fancy anything blue or white" she added.

"Oh, I would love anything green or sweets!" you chimed in, making everyone chuckle.

● Going to Benedict's room when you have nightmare after Daphne leaves, cause he is the most calm one and wouldn't lecture about you reading those horror books. He would simply welcome you into his arms.

● And at one night, not even Benedict would calm you, you thought. You needed Anthony.

He is the only father figure you had all your life.

He could still hear your mother's words that day, years ago, yet sharp and painful etched in his mind now.

"I feel sorry for baby Hyacinth and baby Y/n. Because they would never know Edmund's laugh"

His eyebrows furrows, his eyes so distant.

"Or the way he smiled or what is to be hugged in his arms"

He hugs your shaky form tight, her words still ringing in his ears.

He made a vow to himself that he would be the father Gregory, Hyacinth and you needed.

And now you needed his arms, and he pulled the blanket up, making sure you feel warm and safe.

You begin to calm down, finding comfort in the thought you are safe in your big brother's arms and the knowledge he would protect you from anything. He was your hero.

"Good night, Y/n/n" he whispered, a small soft smile eased into his face as he watched you calmed down and sleep cuddled next to him. He pressed a light kiss on your head before drifting off to sleep.

● Sure, your siblings can be quite troublesome at times but they are also absolutely wonderful and love you nevertheless— the baby of the family. And you would never trade them for anything in the world. You love your family with all your heart.

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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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wespersdaughter · 2 years

Text

HOZIER SELF-TITLED MASTERLIST

take me to church - benedict bridgerton

"The only heaven I'll be sent to is when I'm alone with you."

#bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton imagine #colin bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton imagine #simon basset x reader #simon basset imagine #sister!reader #bridgerton!sister

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

Note

Hi!! I love your work!! I was wondering if you could do an Eloise x fem!reader where they decided to leave the ballroom dance to go on a quick evening walk to get some fresh air and later Eloise made the first move to kiss the reader who happens to be her best friend?! I was thinking they either get caught by Anthony or Lady Whistledown and she writes it for her next gossip👀

A/n: Yay! Eloise 🥹. I did change the end a little bit with Anthony catching the reader and Eloise since I do not think I am brave enough to write something from lady Whistledown.

*Mention of Anthony having a wife { can be anyone you want } *

“Y/n!” Turning to your best friend, a smile formed on your face as Eloise grasped your arm tugging you away from the dance floor. The girl seemed fix on a destination though you were not going to complain.You could almost hear your heart pounding in your ears, you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

“Where are we going Eloise?”

Grinning, the young woman gave you a bright smile. A smile that you’ve come to love, your feelings for her growing each day. Eloise then hummed as she wove her fingers through yours, it felt good holding your hand, it felt right. “We are going on a walk. We could use some fresh air after leaving that stuffy ballroom.”

Letting out a snort, you gave her hand a soft squeeze. The light breeze felt nice on your skin, holding the woman you held affection for felt good too.

You weren’t sure how long you to have been walking but it seemed like the stars were shinning brightly tonight. It did not take long for you two to stop waking, Eloise pausing in front of you. She was nervous, you could easily tell. She gave your hand a squeeze as she stepped closer.

“Y/n….?”

“Yes?” Hoping to ease her nerves you gave her a closed smile only to feel pressure on your lips. Your eyes snapping open, you where shocked that she even kissed you.

Tensing Eloise licked her lips, she wished you would say something! “I didn’t…please.”

Shaking your head you quickly threw your arms around her, giving her a soft kiss. Eloise doing her best to hug you close to her body. Not knowing that someone was watching you both.

Anthony hadn’t meant to leave his lovely wife but it was getting far to stuffy in the room and he rather not deal some Duke asking him questions about his pregnant wife though he was grateful for his mother stating her side.

Though it was a particular sight that threw him off, he was not expecting to see his sister and you in such a innocent embrace. A smile formed on his face for a moment as he stepped back.

“I knew it.”

#drabbles #drabble #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #Eloise Bridgerton x female reader #female reader #reader insert #reader imagine #bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton imagine #Eloise Bridgerton imagine

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

Text

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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ladysharmaa · 14 days

Text

Why don't you love me?

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?

(gift is not mine)

It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.

It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.

Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.

This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.

From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.

However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.

She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?

So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?

It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.

"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.

"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.

At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."

The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."

"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"

However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.

"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"

Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."

When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."

"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.

Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.

But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.

One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.

It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.

To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.

Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"

"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.

The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.

On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.

"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.

"What?" he asked, still disoriented.

Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."

Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"

"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"

The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.

Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.

Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.

"It was silly of me to ask—"

"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."

"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"

"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."

"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.

"No."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.

The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.

Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.

While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.

But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."

"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.

Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.

"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.

"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."

"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.

"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."

"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."

"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."

Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.

"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."

She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.

"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.

"Lord Bridgerton—"

"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.

"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"

"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."

"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."

"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."

"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.

She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.

Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."

"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."

And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #collin bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n

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d-targaryenshoe · 2 months

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Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

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narcissisticmf · 11 months

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draw me | benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

description: you ask benedict to draw you, wearing almost nothing.

trigger warnings: nudity, sexual content, seductive behavior, oral sex, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18.

word count: 1.8k

You walked through the halls with servants of the Bridgerton family, standing outside the opened door to Benedict's study, where he was working behind a canvas.

"You have a caller, Mr. Bridgerton," Stated the servant, bowing his head. You walked into the room, in a silk dress, a silver chain was dangling beautifully around your neck. You stared at Benedict with a soft expression, eyes gentle and calm.

"Leave us," Benedict offered a generous grin to his servants as they left the room, latching the door shut behind them. You continued gazing at him, never turning away, not even once.

"Am I too early? I didn't realize you were already working on something else," You explained as he stared at you with the utmost loving gaze.

"No, not at all, please, have a seat," He gestured to the sofa beside you. "Can I get you a drink?" Benedict asked politely after you planted your bottom against the soft cushions.

"I'm quite well for now, thank you," You admitted.

"Shall we get started then?" He smiled. You nodded softly. "I'd like you to lay down, on your back," He instructed as you did as told, you followed every word that he spoke. Your stomach bubbled with ease and excitement.

Benedict stared at you for a little while, his fingers gripping his chin as his eyes squinted, scanning your body's position. He walked over to you with a gentle demeanor.

"Permission to touch you?" He asked as he looked at you, his gaze never broke from you.

You looked up to him and nodded softly, "Yes."

Benedict gently grasped your wrist and moved your arm to lay against the top of your head. He stepped back and examined your position, smiling.

"Benedict?" You called softly after he had turned around to head back to his canvas, that was propped up on an easel. He turned around with asked 'what' with his eyes, pupils blown out.

"Might I make a small suggestion?" You asked and he nodded. "Wouldn't the image be more raw if my form wasn't so.. cladded?"

Benedict did his best to fight the growing smile. He agreed to your suggestion, as long as you were alright and comfortable. He made sure that you were one hundred percent on board with it.

After confirming your wishes, you stood up from the sofa and lifted the dress from the bottom, over your head, tossing the silk material across the room, beside the windows. You removed all your undergarments, and soon became completely vulnerable. Your breasts laid naturally against your ribcage. Benedict admired you, his eyes traveling up and down your exposed body.

You laid back against the sofa and fixed yourself to be in the form which Benedict had you in moments ago. All that was against your skin was a silver chain. Your hair was down and curled, the way your servants did it the morning of.

Benedict did his best to fight the smile that was against his lips. You smiled softly, but soon it ceased, wanting to keep a serious expression for the final product of the piece.

"Does an artist often blush when drawing one of their subjects?" You grinned mischievously as Benedict let out a small giggle.

"Shh," He hushed you and continued painting away. He managed to get every curve, every beautiful detail amongst your body, matching your skintone perfectly. He even got the subtle glassiness in your eyes and the way the sunlight reflected against your body and about the room.

You were unsure if it was the temperature of the room or the fact that you were at your most vulnerable in front of a man, but your nipples hardened and Benedict took notice of this. He smirked, a lopsided one and stared at you for a moment, ceasing his motions of the paintbrush.

"Are you cold?" He questioned.

"Uhm, no, why?" You asked.

"'Tis my duty as the artist to make sure that my subject is comfortable and satisfied in all ways possible," He replied with a grin.

You smiled softly as you watched him continue to illustrate. He was so focused, looking to you and back at the canvas every few seconds.

Finishing the image, Benedict smiled and turned his easel around so that you could see it. Your lips curved into a grin as you saw how beautiful the painting was.

"It's beautiful, Benedict," You replied, still lying there, unclothed.

"Thank you, Miss. Y/N," He replied with a smug grin as he stared at you, admiring your body. "Will you.. uhm.. be getting back into your dress now?"

You stared at him for a moment, thinking. "If you wish it," You whispered.

"I certainly do not, but do you?" Benedict asked.

"No," You replied quickly. He smiled, his most famous lopsided grin. You slowly arose from the sofa and noticed how Benedict's eyes were glued to you. You walked towards him and noticed he was backing into the bookshelf behind him, pressing his hands against it, for leverage.

"Permission to touch you, Miss. Y/L/N?" He breathed out, almost desperate.

You leaned forward to whisper into his ear, "Yes."

Benedict hastily wrapped his arms lowly around your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You cupped his face and molded your lips with his perfectly. He tasted of brandy and mint. His hands moved down your bare back and towards your bum, gripping your cheeks softly. You released a whimper against his mouth as you pulled back, resting your chin to his shoulder. Your lips parted, to allow soft whines and moans to escape. Benedict moved his lips down your neck and across your shoulder, burying his face into your skin.

He slowly stepped forward, guiding you to the sofa you'd be lying on while Benedict was painting. You sat against it while he begun to remove his coat, tossing it beside your silk dress. You stared at him, eyeing his body up and down. He smirked and removed his suspenders, then his blouse overhead, tossing it to the side. He unzipped the side of his pants and kicked them off effortlessly. Soon, he was left is absolutely nothing.

The sun was setting outside, creating a beautiful reflection of light against Benedict's skin. You smiled as he walked towards the couch, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You kissed him back and gripped his biceps, pushing him to sit beside you. You wasted no time and straddled his waist, draping your arms around his neck, molding your lips perfectly against his.

You'd forgotten about everything; the servants just outside the door, the painting, the fact that your actions were so scandalous that both your life and Benedict's could be ruined if anyone found out. You were focused on him and only him, it was tranquil and comfortable. You felt safer than you had in a long time.

Benedict's hands were holding your sides, slowly dragging his fingers to your back, tracing your skin lightly. You moved your hips with his softly, making him groan quietly into your mouth.

Without taking his lips from yours, he pushed your to lay against your back, so that he was on top of you. You pressed your fingers against his face, engrossed in the taste of him.

Benedict pulled back to admire your body a little long. He noticed how hardened your nipples had become. He lowered his head, without breaking eye contact and placed his lips around your left breast, sucking on your nipple. You whimpered, leaning your head back as the arousal begun to stick to your inner thighs. His eyes were on you the entire time. He moved from your left to your right, repeating the same actions.

You leaned your head back against the cushions, releasing moans that were soon suppressed by Benedict's palm. You closed your eyes and used on hand to push through his hair, gripping it softly.

He dragged his wet lips down your stomach, around your navel and towards your heat. You released a shaky breath as his breath fanned against you. You slowly spread your legs to make it easier access for him. He slipped one finger into your mouth, making you blink in surprise.

"Suck on it. We don't want any unwanted ears hearing us, do we?" Benedict stated as he looked up to you, only raising his eyes. You nodded and begun to suck on his finger, hoping it would be enough to keep you quiet.

He pressed his mouth against your private, using his tongue to toy with your folds. It took a lot for you to keep quiet, but luckily his finger was doing the trick. You closed your eyes as let the feeling consume you. You wrapped your legs around Benedict's shoulders as he moved his lips and tongue against your strings.

Despite his finger keeping you silenced, there was still a beautiful melody within your whines that escaped into the atmosphere.

After a little while, Benedict arose and removed his finger from your mouth, using it to softly graze across your folds. You bit your tongue, having no desire for anyone to hear, but there was adrenaline in that, in knowing you could be caught or heard.

Benedict was on top of you, yet again and held your side with one hand, pressing his lips against yours. You hummed at the taste of your own heat, finding it sweet yet savory at the same time.

You felt Benedict slip effortlessly inside of you. You gasped into his mouth, feeling so many ecstasies all at once. He moved his hips to and fro, feeling how loose you'd been. The comfort in him and his actions was unlike anything you'd ever felt before or experienced.

"Benedict.." You moaned into his mouth as he continued his motions. He was a moaning mess as well, perhaps that was why he was kissing you the whole time.

"You feel absolutely wonderful, Y/N," Benedict whispered through a broken moan.

You had locked eyes with him, as the two of you became close to undoing. You felt your stomach unravel all the knots, reaching your climax. Benedict swiftly pulled out of you, releasing his sticky load against your stomach.

You were both out of breath as he smiled down at you, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He reached onto the ground to grab a cloth, gently wiping his essence off of you. He was sure to be careful, knowing that you must've been sensitive.

"That was perfect," You whispered, taking notice that the sun was already set and the moon was the only think illuminating the darkness of night.

Benedict smiled, chuckling lightly as he pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Perhaps, we should do this again sometime."

Smiling, you nodded.

a/n: hi, cuties!! so i just started watching bridgerton and i absolutely LOVE benedict! he's the sweetest character that i think i've ever seen and couldn't wait to write something for him! i'm sorry i haven't been posting much, work has been really crazy as well as my mental health. i hope you're all doing good! thank you so much for reading! — angelina. <33

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thetalkoftheton · 2 months

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Eloise: Next question. You are sweet on Anthony.

Y/N: That is not a question!

Eloise: So you agree it is a fact.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton #eloise bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton reader insert #bridgerton #incorrect bridgerton #incorrect bridgerton quotes

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hiatuswhore · 2 years

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐼𝐼𝐼 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: I am so sorry for disappearing!! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I forgot about blinked and suddenly it was mid July. Feedback pleaseeee! Feedback motivates me to write.

♕ WORD COUNT: 8.1K

♕ WARNINGS: None

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“LORD BEAUREGARD, (Y/N), ARE YOU MAKING YOUR EXIT? I shall join you both. It is a rather hot day,” Your mother says, smiling kindly. You do not fail to miss the pointed look in her eye. The word of you and the Duke leaving unchaperoned would spread across the ton like an uncontrollable wildfire. Arriving with a Bridgerton and leaving with a Royal would be the topic of the ton for weeks.

Back at the Danbury house, your mother excuses herself leaving you both under the eye of a maid. The moment she leaves your sight you drop your clasp hands and uniform posture earning a chuckle from William.

“I must inquire of your passionate vendetta against marriage,” William says, walking toward the stairs you both walk at an even pace. You grimace as the two of you enter the terrace and your eyes look off into the vast beauty of nature.

“If I am to share this with you, you musn’t tell a single soul. I will be putting my trust in you, a true test of our friendship. Do you accept this or shall I not disclose?” Despite the whimsical glint in your eyes, he could see the hesitation hiding within your features. William properly clasps his hands behind his back before nodding his head. His soft expression and full attention makes you believe in something you question regularly, good nature. “Well I assume it's not a secret of my mothers history with the ton. She and Kate have put all of their efforts into shaping Edwina and I to be desirable. Why must I sing and dance well to make a good wife? Am I interesting? Do I make you happy? Those are the true questions for marriage, not qualities to show off like a circus act. I—my grandparents, the Sheffields—I was ten when I found out. I wasn’t supposed to know. Edwina was changing and I was doing what I do best, not following directions. Kate and Mom were arguing about my grandparents and then I heard it. The Sheffields care not of our happiness and the only way to gain our dowry and their love is through marrying an Englishmen, especially one of nobility.”

“You aim to defy them by never marrying?” You both stop on the back porch soaking in the waning sun. The sun makes your skin glow and William cannot tear his eyes off of you. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, seconds pass before your eyes open again and a glare replaces the peaceful one.

“I aim to humiliate them. Their daughter married below her station and their granddaughter a spinster. Edwina deserves a happy life full of love, it suits her. I want to find my joy from something else. Once a spinster I will be free of the ton's expectations of me,” You explain, meeting William’s gaze his full attention did not falter.

“I do apologize if I speak in circumstances I do not fully comprehend but do you not rob your sister of her truth?” Your shoulders fall as you ponder the question. In the past you found yourself dancing with the option of telling Edwina the truth and curiosity brought wonder of what she would do.

“I’m not entirely certain. We fear she will wed out of duty rather than love. Our parents loved each other very much, she wants what has been modeled for us,” Your father clouds your thoughts as you grasp at a reality that no longer exists. The way he would dance with your mother some nights in the kitchen or how you would wake to fresh flowers on the kitchen table. While his love for his wife was great, his love for his daughters was far greater.

“What shall occur if you find the love that was shown in your childhood home?” A small chuckle leaves your lips as you lean on the white pillar of the back porch. William smiles, his eyebrows furrowing at the sudden amusement.

“A love like that? I can never imagine such love being found in this marriage market,” You turn toward the blue sky that now bleeds with pockets of orange. A hare scampers across the field adding to the soft hum of blissful silence. William watches you for many minutes, one would think he takes mental notes to later document. His adoration sits on full display for every living being in proximity to see. Newton joins the two of you for a short time and you are sure your mother instructed everyone to leave you and William to stargaze. You giggle at how Newton nuzzles into William’s side.

Newton licking your face stirs you from your rest. The morning sun earns a loud groan from your lips as you slip beneath your blanket. Newton wastes no time in stepping on your face as he closely inspects the thin blanket that separates you.

“Newton please!” You whine but his excitement does not cease. Pulling back you fail to glare at his sweet smile as he moves to lick your face. You sit up on your elbows to find both Edwina and Kate’s beds empty. Not a single servant or your mother in sight brings a growing smirk to your features. In the closet, you throw several gowns around until the tan riding pants come into view. Newton sits on your bed watching you with his tail wagging and tongue hanging.

Standing in the mirror you ignore the inevitable pointed stare of your mother. The white shirt and black boots appear so simple but your eyes light up at the sight.

“I fancy a walk, what do you think Newton?” You ask, earning a bark from the corgi; scratching the top of his head you head toward the door. He quickly jumps from the bed following you out. While your family and Lady Danbury chat in the tearoom, you slip out of the front. It takes several minutes to get Newton to stop wiggling so you can button his collar. You follow the dirt path leading away from the manor for several minutes. The sun beats down like a force to be reckoned with and you regret not bringing water along. When the two of you turn back you walk across the grass begrudgingly, “Fancy we’ll fall slain to the sun. Hell of a way to go Newton.”

Your dry chuckle does nothing to curb your discomfort but as the house draws closer you practically taste the water on your tongue. The front yard displays a sight that shoots amusement throughout your chest. Newton growls at the sight of the eldest Bridgerton standing next to a horse. You raise an eyebrow reeling in Newton’s leash as Anthony meets your gaze.

“Pray tell what nonsense, do you engage your time in now?” The question makes you audibly laugh as you eye the beautiful horse behind him. You tilt your head as he adjusts his jacket asking what was so amusing.

“You never fail to humor me, Lord Bridgerton. Rather than boring you with my feeble-minded lady-like activities pray tell why you stand here now gifting a horse…for Kate?” Your lip quivers as you struggle to fight the smirk that aches to make an appearance. Anthony’s eyebrows furrow at your words but he cannot respond as Kate comes charging out of Danbury house.

“How much clearer must I be?” Kate questions and Anthony announces the rather large gift for Edwina. Newton nuzzles into the side of your leg as you intently watch steam practically pour out from Kate’s ears. “Take your Trojan horse elsewhere.”

“I assure you, Miss Sharma, this is a very real horse. I’d not recommend trying to climb inside,” Anthony says. The chuckles that leave your lips are involuntary and you do not stifle them at the sight of Kate’s glare. Anthony glances at you, finding only amusement in your features.

“Sister, why don’t you take Newton inside? Lord Bridgerton truly this is all a game to you,” Kate says, earning an immediate response from Anthony stating the opposite. As Kate reveals the schemes at the races your eyebrows furrow as a smile dances on your lips.

“Color me impressed, a rather weakly plotted scheme but I appreciate all plots and ploys. Maybe there’s hope for you yet Lord Bridgerton,” You say but the sound of your name on Kate’s lips tells you she no longer wishes to tolerate your games. “Let’s go, Newton, we both know Lord Bridgerton won’t be removing his foot from his mouth any time soon.”

Anthony says nothing at the jab and you miss how he narrows his eyes at your back as a smile ghosts on his lips. You pass Edwina on your journey back inside, she greets you with her usual upbeat smile. While she notes your uncharacteristically cheery persona her confusion soon clears at the sight of Kate and Anthony bickering.

“Perfection. Just who I was looking for,” Your mother says, handing Newton off to one of the maids, Mary rushes you up the stairs. She sits you down and slowly brushes your hair.

“Mama, has something happened?” You ask. Mary shakes her head smiling down at you with a warm devotion. You keep a cautious eye on your mother as she turns your head to the mirror forcing you to look at yourself.

“Dearest I know we do not particularly see eye to eye on many things but there is one thing. You are beautiful. I know this may be confusing. I just fear I put all my energy into Edwina’s season that I may be neglecting you,” Mary reveals. You frown at her words.

“Mama you know I have no desire to marry but Edwina does. I understand that right now is a busy time for her and she needs us, especially you to help her through all this,” Placing your hand on your mothers you give it a light squeeze as you look up at her. She asks if you are certain but you promise her that things feel more than ordinary.

“Fine but humor me, love. Look at yourself in the mirror once more. I understand you wish to not marry but promise you will not actively evade your chance to be happy,” Staring at your reflection your self-esteem equates to a large glasshouse. The confidence you carry comes with a bright red fragile sticker on the front. You squeeze Mary’s hand again as you give her your word.

Your mother brushes your hair back into small pins which she covers with small flowers. As the guests pour in you stand with a cordial smile as your eyes scan the room for the Duke. When he does arrive you are taken back by the intricacy of his suit. He wears all black with a white undershirt that pops due to the consistency of black. His gold cufflinks glimmer under the light and his hair sits with near curls framing his face.

“Miss Sharma,” He greets properly and your mouth dries as you cannot take your eyes off of him. You fail to notice how your mother smiles at the sight of the interaction and she greets the Duke when you do not find the will to move or works to speak. He thanks Lady Danbury for having him and greets your sister accordingly.

“Are you still certain of your disdain to marry?” Lady Danbury taunts with a smirk on her lips as your sisters giggle. Your mother smiles as you scramble to remove the attention from yourself.

“Just because I do not wish to marry does not mean I cannot find a man to be visibly pleasing. Lord Beauregard looks rather handsome and I was taken aback is all. Shall we continue to greet our guests?” You turn forward and as if on queue more guests arrive.

Gathering in one of the many large rooms you sit with Edwina on the couch. Front and center to all of the talents it would be a lie to say you are not enjoying yourself. While you have yet to have another moment with William, you still mindlessly scan the room in search of his presence. You miss his return to the room with Kate as the men showcase many curiosities. Your favorite so far being Lord Darlington turning a flame into a flower.

“At least it is the men making fools of themselves this time,” Your sister says, revealing herself to be standing directly behind you.

“You say that as though men do not make fools of themselves regularly,” You say, standing next to your sister Eloise joins in on the laughter. She asks if the idea had been from either of you. “I cannot take credit for this brilliance.”

“I wish I could take credit, but no. Lady Danbury encouraged a poetry reading. The men, thanks to their spirit and competition concocted the rest of this farce on their own,” Kate explains and the three of you refocus your attention forward. Despite not paying much attention to Lord Bakers tap dancing you still politely clap with the others. You lean back on the couch, beginning to bore with the so-called talents before Lady Danbury announces Lord Beauregard will be doing a poetry reading, an original piece. As he stands in front of you it takes everything not to sit up at the edge of your seat.

“Hello, all. I am no poet, I just speak from the heart so please do try to not judge me too harshly. Save the advent of pitchforks for the end if my poetry proves to require such a reaction,” Light chuckles carry throughout the room as you watch him shift. You wonder if the others notice the slight tremble of his hands as he fiddles with a piece of paper. He glances up a final time meeting your gaze, you offer a light smile as you provide him your full attention. Taking a deep breath, he mutters an apology before looking down at his paper, “Shakespeare compares thee to a summer's day. I find thee more peculiar. Her uncanny nature intoxicating, the lack of her presence maddening. For that, I cannot compare thee to a summer day. A summer's day is incomparable to thee. I pray she grants respite and allows me at her side for as long as time permits. Dare I say it? I love her. So much so, I torture myself to allow her, her happiness.”

A chorus of awes fills the room and the intensity of the clapping only adds to the stir in your chest. You do not move. Not an inch as you stare at William as though he stands with a gun pointing in your direction. As if a threat has been made to your life. Edwina claps vigorously and she leans in whispering something you do not register in your ear. Lady Danbury announces an intermission to which you rise from the couch and rush into the corridor. Though you hear William call your name it only makes your hasty exit more eager. You round the corner toward the foyer with your eyes lingering over your shoulder. The speed at which you march forward and your heels come to a halt as you crash into another.

“My apologies,” You say, absently as your eyes stay over your shoulder. Anthony frowns as his hands hold your elbows and follows your gaze. When you meet his gaze you fail to drop the worry in your eyes. You practically cling to Anthony as press further into his hold in attempts to get away.

“It’s quite alright. Are you okay Miss Sharma?” Anthony asks. His eyebrows furrowed as he searches for what urgently evade. You look over your shoulder once more to find William lingering by the hall. He offers a weak smile and you thank your lucky stars as Lady Danbury announces the festivities shall continue.

“I should get back to my sister's side. Lord Bridgerton,” Your words jumble and you curtsy before turning around and passing William back into the main room. The two men say nothing as they follow you. On the couch, while you appear to place your full attention forward you actively fight every ache to look back. You are certain William stands within the room watching you. Anthony at the last minute asks for the room to grant him audience, much to Kate’s chagrin it’s happily accepted. You frown as he removes a paper from his pocket and begins reading.

“What is it truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration. To delight in her beauty, so much that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor—“ He looks up meeting Edwina’s bright eyes and large smile. Though it appears the poem achieves all he hoped for, his eyes linger just inches to the right. You sit back on the couch, slouching with an eyebrow raised. He’s certain you can see right through him as your nose scrunches while you search for the source of his abrupt pause he speaks again, “To honor—“

His eyes find Kate’s to his right and she shares your expression. Her eyebrows pull inward as her jaw clenches and she keeps her hands properly clasped in front of her. Anthony turns toward the crowd, he finds his mother and Lady Danbury appearing unfazed. Despite their attempts, he can see the lining of disapproval in their eyes. Bringing his hands together he crumbles Benedict's poem before the entire room. He turns toward the fire, dropping the paper in.

“My apologies. I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own. They are someone elses entirely. Truth be told, I’m not—I’m not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action,” Anthony sighs as he brings his hand up and scratches the back of his ear. Not a single person in the room moves a single muscle and the crackling of the fireplace brings a soft hum to your ears. Anthony meets your gaze briefly, his words holding your mind hostage. No matter how hypnotizing the moment feels Anthony still breaks it and looks to the right of you, “Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I’d be lying. I may not be able to offer the display of passion that you truly deserve but I assure you that when it comes to action and duty. I shall never be found lacking and I hope that will speak louder than any pretty words ever can.”

The clapping that follows provides the perfect smokescreen to make your exit. As you once again reach the corridor you continue to the kitchen to find the staff scrambling. You grab an cookie before returning out into the hall. Kate stands a few feet back as William stands against the wall parallel to the kitchen. You frown at your sister's presence and William’s nervous eyes before it all clicks.

“No. Not now,” You say, rushing down the hall a sigh leaves you as William and Kate follow. Kate hangs back keeping the two of you in view but not close enough to be intrusive.

“Wait, wait, wait. (Y/n) talk to me?” William says, grabbing you gently he pulls you off to the side. He frowns as you avoid looking at him, “Have I done something to offend you?”

“No I—William I cannot do this,” You try to blink away the burning in your eyes. Kate keeps her gaze off the two of you as she silently listens in.

“Why don’t we get some air okay, yeah?” William says, nodding your head you allow him to escort you outside to the front of Danbury House. Kate lingers in the doorway as the two of you take a seat on the steps. The silence that follows eases the thick fog that clouds your nerves. You feel it when William’s gaze moves from the distance onto your rigid exterior.

“I would hate to sound presumptuous but would one be correct in her assumption that your poem was about me?” You ask, meeting his gaze your tired eyes reveal little of what goes on behind them. He nods his head as he reaches into his pocket revealing the paper. Your name’s written at the top of the paper and the poem sits neatly beneath. He reaches to the inside of his jacket pocket retrieving a small box.

“Do not make haste with your answer for I beseech you to truly consider all that I may offer. I know our time together has been short but please hear me (Y/n). I wish to make all your dreams a reality. All the words I spoke were nothing short of true. I ask not for your love but your companionship. If I cannot have you as my lover and wife then I will accept you as my friend and wife. You will have the luxury of the freedom you so desire and I, your presence and security of marriage. We can be happy. I can make you happy I am sure of it.”

You chew on your bottom lip as your mind scrambles to remove yourself from the situation. He holds the box out to you to which you accept it with cautious eyes. Upon opening the box the gold band and medium-sized diamond glimmers under the soft lighting. You say nothing as William describes his process of choosing the ring, his goal to reflect your personality.

“Are you calling me simple?” You ask, raising an eyebrow but William rolls his eyes nudging your side. He explains his understanding of your joy with simplicity but also chaos which comes with the news if you accept the proposal. All that you live wrapped into one gesture. The soft chuckle that leaves the two of you eases the suffocating tension but it does not change it. “Your offer is more than generous but in a way a lie William. You are a part of the royal family. Marrying you brings a royal wedding with responsibilities and expectations I can never meet.”

“We can face all of those obstacles together. You will have more freedom and resources than you can ever imagine,” William says, resting his arms on his knees as he looks at your indifferent expression. You point out the push there will be for providing heirs. “And that is a discussion that only includes myself, you, and a doctor. I understand this proposal consists of several different aspects that must be discussed. For now, all I ask is for you to take the prospect of marriage into consideration and know I will happily spend the rest of my life trying to bring you joy. That is only if you will allow me.”

You keep your eyes on Newton who sits in Kate’s lap across from you as you thank the heavens word of William’s proposal has not gotten out. Lady Whistledown focuses her attention solely on their invitation to Aubrey Hall, apparently known for its beauty and history of the Bridgertons.

“Perhaps, I’ll wear the pink silks at dinner tonight. Do you think Lord Bridgerton will like it?” Edwina asks, her gaze bouncing from you to Kate with an eagerness that makes you want to roll your eyes.

“Probably? We’ve all met Viscount Bridgerton, not a single original thought in his head. All duty, worry and reservations. You embody perfection Bon, not a chance he does not like it,” You say earning a light kick to your shin from Kate who reassures Edwina. Edwina merely nudges you with her usual smile on her lips. Despite your rather offensive words Edwina only smiles at your hostile wit, over the years it has been apparent you do no wrong in her eyes.

“You need not worry about the Viscount's favor, Miss Edwina. It is an exceedingly good sign he has invited us to spend a few days with the family and their close family friends the Beauregards, before the rest of the ton arrives for the real party,” Lady Danbury says, looking in your direction with a pointed look. This time you do not hold back the roll of your eyes as you divert your attention to outside the carriage. The vast green of nature and vibrant blue of the sky wipe away all discontent you feel in conversation.

“Perhaps by then we can announce two engagements,” Your mother says, keeping your gaze outside of the carriage you pretend to not hear her.

“(Y/n) wouldn’t that just be lovely! We would still be so close, I the Viscountess and you someday a Princess! Do away with whatever is stopping you and imagine the happy lives we would live!” Edwina exclaims, taking your hand she brings it close to her chest as a big smile paints her features. The weak smile you present pairs with a deep hug.

“The Duke of Wales is quite a catch, Miss Sharma. Not only because of his title but I have known him since he was a babe. Nothing short of a gentleman and a man of true honor and dignity,” Lady Danbury says, but as it becomes clear you carry no intention of speaking your mother chimes in.

“That is just wonderful. I have seen how he looks at you dear. He is quite taken with you and I see how you smile with him,” Lady Mary points out and you fight every urge to huff and stomp your feet. Can man and woman not merely enjoy each other's company platonically? You lean back in your seat redirecting your attention to outside once more. Every interaction between yourself and William clouds your thoughts as you weigh the possibilities heavily. It plagues you the rest of the ride ignoring how they discuss the Bridgertons.

You cannot help the drop of your jaw at the sight of the estate as you draw closer. The large amount of land only fills you with excitement at the prospect of exploring. At the stop of the carriage you watch as many faces pour out of the front. Most of them you recognize but you struggle to identify the younger of the bunch. Lady Danbury steps out first greeting her godson with more excitement than you have ever seen her exude. You step out after your mother and Lady Violet greets you with a large smile. Stepping off to the side a smile ghosts on your lips at the seemingly endless fields. Fully enthralled you miss how William approaches your side, even flinching as he speaks.

“My apologies, my intentions were not to startle you, rather bask in the beauty of Aubrey Hall,” William says, offering a smile you cannot find the words to speak. His words from the night prior coming to the forefront of your mind. “I must assure you that there is no need to act differently around me. No matter your decision, you will always be a dear friend to me.”

“What pray tell did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful person in my life? Why would you ever want to marry such a hostile wench as some would say,” You both chuckle falling into that same easy going environment. William nudges your side as he says you speak too highly of him. You raise an eyebrow at the statement but before you can speak another voice diverts both of your attentions from behind.

“Careful William you may discover, dare I say, a personality behind her sharp tongue and cold eyes,” Anthony teases, standing at your left side William now stands across from you. Both Anthony and William chuckle as you roll your eyes at the weak jest.

“Lord Bridgerton, envy looks good on no one,” You point out crossing your arms you raise an eyebrow as a smirk threatens your lips. Anthony’s jaw clenches but the dry chuckle that leaves his lips tell a different tale.

“Is that so, Miss Sharma,” Anthony says, mirroring your crossed arms. The way the two of you move slightly closer brings a frown to William’s face. He says nothing as he silently observes how the two of you verbally push each other further and further. It’s not just the way the two of you stand or even what leaves your mouths but rather the locked eyes. Almost as if the two of you have forgotten William stands with you both.

“William, how dare you never tell me Anthony knew how to be anything beyond boorish?” Despite asking a question you do not move your gaze from Anthony as a mocking laugh leaves his lips.

“I am the boorish one?” His words drip in disbelief as he misses how his best friend shifts uncomfortably. In attempt to remind you both of his presence, he clears his throat but it does nothing as Kate appears at his side with Newton and a redhead at Anthonys. Anthony smiles down at Newton who immediately growls before moving to your ankles. You giggle as Kate points out Newton’s keen sense of one's character.

“I can assure you all by the end of this excursions he will have a much better perception of I,” Anthony says but his gaze stays with you a few seconds longer than necessary before he turns to his sister you have yet to be introduced to. Daphne looks from her brother looking cautiously between you and Kate. A hesitance dances in her eyes as she smiles warmly and settles on Kate.

“You must be Miss Edwina,” She says. You let out a hearty laugh as William clears his throat trying to subtly shake his head. Anthony whips his head toward his sister letting out a sharp no. You watch as she turns to you and you cannot find the strength to stop giggling, “My apologies Miss Sharma. I am Daphne, I guess I should have known you were Miss Edwina, it’s rather seldom that Anthony makes any other face other than one of annoyance.”

“My apologies Miss Daphne you are once again wrong. I can list numerous things I would rather endure than the courting of your brother,” You speak with a matter-of-fact tone before shrugging your shoulders at Anthony. Though her face descends into confusion it fades as Daphne lets out a chuckle, she tilts her head listening attentively. Kate covers her laugh as you hold out your hand to Daphne, “(Y/n) Sharma. I have met your siblings, they are wonderful.”

“No, it is my apologies to both of you. I must say I believe we shall have a fun game of Pall Mall with you all,” Daphne smiles and William asks to escort you inside to which Daphne grabs your arm with a playful look in her eye she says, “The first very interesting women to join us for Pall Mall will not be hogged by the likes of you Beauregard.”

She escorts you inside without another word to the others. You chuckle at how she smiles to herself with pride. She wastes no time in asking about your family and your sisters. You speak honestly about each of them, no fluffing them up in hopes it will secure Edwina a match. The only negatives you list of Edwina consist only of sisterly squabbles. Her unflinching joyful energy and optimistic nature. In actuality they are not negatives but you still say some days it drives you up the wall. “You have a toughness to your nature. I do not think I can list anyone I know like that beyond Lady Danbury.”

“Do not flatter me Miss Bridgerton. I am no different than other women of the ton besides my questionable manners,” You shrug making Daphne’s eyebrows furrow at the gesture but her lips curve up into a smile.

“No wonder Eloise adores you,” Reaching the backyard you can hear the others close behind. A small gasp leaves your lips at the view from the back porch. Your chest knots as you yearn for your fathers presence. He would love this. Violet enters the back porch last with an older woman behind her.

“Well, now, you must be weary from your travels,” Violet says. Tearing your eyes from the view you take a deep breath in to stop how rapidly your abrupt emotions rattle your nerves. William frowns as he meets your gaze, you blow a playful kiss in his direction and a smile takes his lips. You pretend not to notice his lingering eyes, you are sure he can see right through you. “Mrs. Wilson. Please show our guests to their rooms so they might get refreshed.”

You join walking back inside with Edwina and your mother. They both wear appreciative smiles, mirroring each other perfectly. You smile with them but you are certain it sticks out like a sore thumb in comparison.

“And ready for battle,” Eloise says and you turn furrowing your eyebrows with a sneaky grin.

“A battle you say?” Earning grins from both Eloise and Daphne you swiftly bury the intense emotion. No longer at the center of your attention but in a dark corner within your mind.

“I wish to know as well,” Kate says with an open smile, you feel giddy at the sight of competitive Kate. This time more vulnerable than others as you can typically convince her to join one of your schemes. You know it always ends with her lecturing you but it does not make it any less fun.

“Oh please girls, do not mind Eloise, she’s always so spirited in the country,” Violet says as she heards the three of you toward the door. You fail to turn down the amusement in your face. Eloise and Kate fall side by side walking back inside together.

“Then we have that in common,” Kate says smiling at Eloise who grins in delight. You follow behind the two of them until she goes off in her home and you follow Kate toward the rooms. After settling you sit with your leg bouncing, eagerly waiting for this game they all loudly anticipate. When the time comes to meet outside you wear a warm grin. Each of you divide up wickets to place outside. You and your sisters join Daphne around the backyard with a guard lingering by and you cannot help but find his presence odd—rather unnecessary.

“This will teach Colin. Last time, he put a wicket behind the goat barn,” Daphne says, stabbing her wicket into the ground, you walk a few feet over and stab yours into the ground in the middle of the field.

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” Kate asks. The three of you follow Daphne like a flock of baby ducks. Daphne explains Pall-Mall’s less about the rules and more about anticipation.

“Of course there is the goal of hitting your ball through each wicket. The first player to send their ball through the last wicket wins. Simple enough, though, if you are feeling devilish you can use your turn to knock an opponent’s ball as far away from their next wicket as you would like.”

“Why waste a turn if the point is to get one’s own ball through the wicket?” Edwina ask as both you and Kate grin as excitement rises for the game. Kate speaks as soon Edwina stops, “To infuriate your opponent, I gather?”

“Are you truly victorious by merely just winning, or getting a rise out of your opponents?” You bounce off your sisters with the three of you appearing in sync. Daphne’s eyebrows raise and curve up as her jaw gapes for a second. She quickly recovers, smiling at the three of you with a strong welcoming energy.

“How you seek to play the game is your choice alone. No matter what method you decide to go about it is not considered cheating other than using anything other than the mallets. Whether you choose to focus on the wickets or not, you never know what others plan to do. Know your game and your enemy,” Daphne says and Kate perks up, voicing her excitement to play the game. She walks you over by the trees to place another wicket as she explains Benedict’s a good shot but he does not enjoy conflict. “Colin is crafty. He will strike when he think you are least suspecting it so always be suspecting it. Eloise concentrates entirely on defeating her older brothers. The hope is that she gets so absorbed by them that she forgets about you. Keep in mind who will not forget about you, he will not forget about anyone. William’s like a hunter in this game you never know who he will deceive and sometimes he will just go for the wickets. He enjoys our terror when suddenly he’s sending our ball off into the horizon. I, of course, am a complete enigma who will divulge none of my secrets and well, then there is Anthony.”

“Let me guess. A most ruthless, cutthroat player,” Kate says but before anyone can react you speak between laughter, “No way he has the capacity to see past his own hubris to be successful in this game.”

“So you have both met my brother I see,” Daphne smiles as she and Kate join in on your laughter. Edwina’s smile falters at the three of you which makes Daphne's smile fall to worry, “That is not to say he has no honor. He’s usually the most genteel sportsman. Except as far as this field is concerned.”

“I’m sure the Viscount is an excellent player. We will pass a very pleasant afternoon,” Edwina says. Both yourself and Kate bite back a laugh as you offer her a supportive nod. The guards carry out a large wooden case consisting of the mallets. You all linger around it as you watch them argue over who picks first.

“Last year, we promised to let the youngest pick first,” Eloise exclaims and you grin as Anthony speaks with heavy conviction. They appear to debate so ferociously but over minuscule things without actual anger. “We pick based on alphabetical order! That is the precedent.”

“Guests go first, do Bridgertons have no decorum? It should be me every year!” William exclaims taking offense in ways you have never seen. Benedict calls him out on it being several years since William was ever a guest in any of their homes.

“Every year he uses the guest excuse as if he has not grown up here with us,” Colin rolls his eyes as they chuckle while William huffs in defeat.

Kate smiles with you as Edwina leans back to the two of you close. She appears confused as the playful tension, “It’s meant to be a game, is it not?”

“Everyone please now! The only fair thing to do is to let our invited guests choose their mallets and strike first,” Daphne says and you smile as all eyes fall on the three of you. Anthony invites Edwina to choose first and you gag as he compliments her mallet choice. You step forward eyeing each mallet until you settle on a gray one with carefully painted spots on them. Chuckles shoot through the Bridgertons and William.

“It appears you have chosen my mallet Miss Sharma,” Benedict says, forcing a smile onto his lips you could convince one that it was genuine. You spin the mallet in your palm, feeling out the weight as you offer a sardonic smile.

“That’s rather odd. It appears the mallet’s in my hands thus I have chosen my mallet,” You roll your eyes as Edwina patronizes you with her eyes but the others laugh. Colin reassures your sisters that your attitude may prove to be beneficial in such a game. As Kate steps forward you watch as the Bridgertons watch with heavy anticipation.

It does not come as a shock when Kate's hands lift the all-black mallet from the wooden case. The shared look of shock and uncertainty that surrounds you all does make your eyebrows furrow.

“The Mallet of Death,” Eloise says, looking to her elder brother much like the rest of the Bridgertons. Daphne turns to her brother with a mocking smile: William fails to bite back his laughter as Anthony glares daggers in his direction. Benedict joins William's amusement and it becomes clear Kate has chosen Anthony’s mallet.

“Is this yours?” Kate says with a grin as Anthony brings the knuckle of his pointer finger to his teeth.

“Not all. You are welcome to it,” Kate catches your grin at the sight of his forced kindness. William catches your eye sending a wink in your direction to which you chuckle.

“You threatened to beat me last time I touched—“ Colin chimes as Eloise gapes at the sight of Anthony. No matter what Colin plans to share, Anthony cuts it short with a pointed stare and sharp tone, “You exaggerate!”

“Says the one who nearly broke my arm one year over it,” William says crossing his arms over his chest as Eloise agrees.

“Are you the superstitious sort? I know some men cannot perform without their familiar tools. Like a child with a blanket,” Kate says and your jaw drops as you look at your older sister with wide eyes. The urge to laugh strong you bite on your lower lip at the sight of Edwinas uncomfortable expression. Though you show restraint it fools no one as you blink away the faint tears that threaten your eyes.

“I can play well with any mallet,” Anthony says but you do not miss your opportunity as it presents itself.

“Yet you appear stifled in the absence of your beloved mallet. Performance issues are quite common and nothing to be ashamed of,” Your mocking tone and grin earns shameless laughter around you. Both yourself and Kate blending seamlessly with the Bridgertons.

“Always a charmer Miss Sharma,” Anthony says with a smile which you return without pause. You miss how his gaze does not immediately leave you but William and Daphne silently take it in. Neither says a word when they meet each other's gaze and the moment ends as fast as it begins. Eloise seizes the moment as many of her siblings appear distracted. She acquires her mallet while Benedict takes William’s. William moves a second faster than Colin, taking his mallet in the process. Colin holds one of the extra mallets in his hand leaving with Anthony with the pink one.

“How befitting, Viscount Bridgerton.” Your tone sickenly sweet as you playfully swing your mallet. Anthony takes a half step forward narrowing his eyes at your nonchalant expression.

“Mark my words Miss Sharma. Your taunts will prove fruitless,” You only offer a smile as you bump his shoulder to join Daphne. The field begins light, much laughter and clapping as the Mamas, Lady Danbury, and the Prince watch on. Kate takes the opportunity to knock your ball from reach of the wicket.

“Didi! Do well to remember we sleep beneath the same roof,” You say as the others laugh and Kate shrugs. “Bon, do well to remember we share the same competitive nature.”

The two of you carry on this fashion for several turns. Both of you knock each other out of route when the opportunity arises. Edwina says little to nothing for much of it. You almost forget her presence as the environment swallows you whole. It’s painfully clear the Bridgertons adore your own and Kate's presence. The game of Pall-mall solidifies both of your abilities to be around the family for more than simple visits. Without prior knowledge one would assume you were long time friends with each and everyone of the Bridgerton siblings.

“Out of practice my brother,” Benedict says as Anthony misses his wicket. Kate smiles mockingly before shooting her own straight through from a similar distance. She jumps and spins happily as the rest of you clap and it’s once again your turn for the same wicket from a further distance.

“Rather easy shot is it not?” You question to know one in particular but it lands with Anthony as soon as it leaves your lips. He opens his mouth to counter your sly remark but as you hit your ball through the wicket claps silence him. You look up and tilt your head at the sight of his gaping mouth, “Were you to say something?”

“Good shot,” Anthony says, clapping slowly as you offer a false curtsy. William stands with a blank expression as he lines up his shot. He misses his wicket entirely and when you make a sly jab he only offers a cordial smile. As all of you move to the next turn you walk over and join his side.

“You’ve gone quiet. Does something trouble you?” You ask but William does not turn to meet your gaze. He mutters quickly about a headache before abandoning the conversation entirely. Anthony makes a show of his turn only to miss, which Kate follows by hitting her ball through the wicket perfectly. Once again your turn you line up your mallet as if you plan to hit toward the wicket. In the last second you turn ever slightly aiming directly at Colins. A chorus of gasps fill your ears as you all watch Colins ball soar far from the wicket.

“Now what could I ever have done Miss Sharma to deserve such treatment?” Colin chuckles but his question receives a shrug in response as the others laugh.

“I fear Miss Sharma may have been born for this game. I hold nor a single inkling of whom she may target,” Benedict says and you shrug a second time before saying that everyone’s fair game. William goes and though he has an opportunity to knock Edwina’s ball but he focuses on the wicket. He goes straight through with ease but rather than join the banter he quietly steps aside.

“Miss Edwina, I believe you are next. I did not wish to leave my ball in your path. So I left an open space so you can send yours,” Anthony joins your sister's side pointing to the open space left accessible to her.

“Is your best friend always this vomit inducing?” Nudging William’s side you chuckle to find he does not partake in your amusement. You frown as once again William blatantly ignores you. “One minute you’re asking me to be your wife and the next you won’t meet my eye. Have I upset you?”

“You could never upset me, (Y/n). I—there are things I fear may not only be in my head,” He finally meets your gaze and your mind can only think of his poem. So the pain he spoke of, now on full display. While his face does not tell a story his eyes tell it all.

“William, you speak in riddles. What is the meaning of this all?” You ask, the cheers and sighs of the others drowning away in the background. William sighs heavily and you can see he internally battles with his next move.

“I—“ Anthony makes you flinch as his voice rips you from the intensity of the conversation. He says it's your turn with the unneeded addition of challenging your courage.

“Scared? Do you project your own fear onto me?” You ask tilting your head as you mimic Anthony’s sardonic smile. Willams jaw clenches as he grips his mallet tightly with his eyes on Anthony. Your mind forgets the conversation momentarily as you line up your shot.

“Miss Sharma you are rather hilarious. What would I fear? Your sharp tongue are merely hollow words on this battlefield,” Anthony says. Your eyes on the wicket it’s a clean shot and would put you ahead of Kate, Anthony, and Colin. Though you have this opportunity Anthony continues taunting in your ear like a bird on your shoulder. Before swinging your mallet you turn your aim directly onto Anthony’s ball. You swing hard before watching his ball fly off and land by Kate’s.

“You were saying, Lord Bridgerton?” Not getting a response in the next moves both Kate and Anthony’s ball are hit into the forest. You consider dropping out not only to check on Edwina as she retires from the game early but also to confront William on his peculiar attitude. Both use the excuse of refreshments to leave the game and you are certain they are untrue. Now the only few left standing are yourself, Colin, Benedict, Eloise, and Daphne. You smile while Colin, Benedict, and Eloise bicker endlessly over the game.

“I don’t wish to overstep in affairs that are not my own but William is very fond of you. I’ve known him all my life and I have never seen him like this about anyone. You will find that no man is more devoted and caring than he,” She says, nodding your head, you offer her not a slither of your thoughts.

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