#house of savoia | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stinglovebee · 2 years

Text

summary: during the new social season of 1814, not only the Viscount Bridgerton must find a good match to his younger sister Miss Eloise and a suitable Viscountess for himself but he is also entrusted by the Parliament with the task of finding a suitable English husband for the rebellious legitimized daughter of the King of the Two Sicilys, the most desirable young lady he ever set his eyes on— who seems to take special pleasure in vexing him—.

fandom: Bridgerton

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton/ OC

warnings: none-yet-

master list

It was curiosity that moved the Viscount Bridgerton to accept Lord Castlereagh's invitation for a meeting in his cabinet at the Office of Foreign Affairs in Whitehall.

Castlereagh was a key member of Great Britain's diplomatic relations, and at such a fundamental time, with the ink of the Armistice still fresh, and the diplomatic corps preparing to depart for France to negotiate the Treaty of Paris, the Viscount— an active member of the Parliament—, wondered what could be so important that the Secretary of Foreign Affairs invited him to his office on the eve of his departure to the continent.

Lord Bridgerton was received as soon as his arrival was announced, the two lords exchanged pleasantries about their families and businesses over a glass of brandy seated in the comfortable armchairs of Castlereagh’s study.

“Robert, I’ve known you for years, you were my father’s friend, shall we stop playing the diplomatic game and get straight to the point?” The Viscount asked, straight as usual. At nearly one-thirty, Anthony Bridgerton didn’t like to be coddled.

“It’s a matter of great importance, no crisis, but something that needs to be handled with some delicacy.” Castlereagh set his glass on the table, pouring himself another drink. “The King of the Two Sicily comes to London in August for a three-month State Visit, and with the diplomatic corps so strained by the war, it was suggested that you take care of the visit’s preparations.”

Anthony sighed. This seemed more like the sort of thing Hastings should be dragged into.

“Robert, my role in Parliament is as a member of the House of Lords, I’m not a government official, I don’t know what you expect me to do.” The brusque response came out before Anthony managed to close his mouth.

“The real issue is the King’s daughter.” Castlereagh’s expression turned serious.

“A Italian Princess?” Anthony raised an eyebrow.

Lord Castlereagh sighed, pressing two fingers to his forehead.

“His illegitimate daughter.” The older man said looking straight into the younger's dark eyes. “Her Serene Highness the Marchesa di Montferrat, Maria Lucretia Johanna Donata di Savoia.” The diplomat pulled a folder from the table. “She is the only child of the King with his favorite mistress, His Majesty has genuinely loved the woman, and this love is reflected in the King's treatment of his daughter, all reports are that the King is a doting and affectionate father to his illegitimate daughter, even though the mistress has left him a few years ago leaving the girl to her father.”

“The King recognize his bastard daughter?” The Viscount asked with some disbelief.

“He recognized her, bestowed a title and an honorific.” Castlereagh confirmed. “The girl was brought up among her legitimate siblings, she was later sent to France to complete her education in some reputable academies, from which she was eventually expelled, for even though she is the daughter of a King, she is tempestuous as a gypsy.”

“How old is the girl?” Bridgerton asked, pouring himself a second shot of brandy.

“She just turned Seven and ten.” Castlereagh leaned back in his armchair. “There was a scandal a year ago with a gentleman, right under the noses of the school governesses, nothing terrible happened to her, if you know what I mean.” Robert actually blushed, Anthony would even find the situation comical if he wasn't already feeling a headache starting to form. “The whole incident was completely hushed up, His Majesty married the man to some lady, and, by pressure from the Royal Council, sent his daughter to a convent to avoid tarnishing the other daughters.”

“And to make sure there weren’t any more scandals.” Lord Bridgerton nodded.

He knew all too well what it was like to deal with scandals, Daphne and Colin just to name it, although Daphne's scandal was avoided, and Colin took little blame.

“Exactly. The problem is that the girl always manage to run away, three convents were not able to discipline her. So the king decided that the best way to keep her under control and avoid a political incident, was to keep her under his watch. After a few years in France, Mademoseille di Montferrat returned to the royal palace in Palermo to wait until the Royal Council decided what to do with her.”

“And then?” Bridgerton asked rubbing his chin, increasingly curious to know where he fit into this story.

In response, Lord Castlereagh took a folded newspaper from his briefcase and tossed it across the table. Accustomed to the newspapers his mother and sisters read, Anthony had no doubt that it was a publication specializing in scandals. He scanned the article, quickly translating the Italian words, then lowered the paper, expression unchanged.

“How accurate is this description of the incident?”

“Altogether, the facts are quite accurate.” The diplomat nodded, downing his brandy glass in one gulp. “The girls were not compromised. They wanted to go out to see the carnival, it was just a girlish mischief, they were escorted back to the palace by their brothers who were at the festivities.”

“So nothing happened…”

“No.” Castlereagh agreed. “Anyhow, the King, under pressure, I must add, sent her to the hunting residence near Turin, and decided that at nearly seventeen it was time to find her a husband.”

“He acted well. The girl is no doubt a bad influence on the sisters.” Anthony glanced at the scandalous newspaper in front of him, published a few months ago. “Unfortunately they were unsuccessful in cover up her scandal this time.”

“No, unfortunately. The story got out, as well as the rumors of her difficult temper, the news has already spread all over Italy.” Castlereagh folded his hands in his lap.

“And the sisters?” According to the newspaper, two of the princesses were in the company of marchesa.

“They are being considered victims of their younger sister's influence.” The diplomat cleared his throat.

“So what’s the problem?”

“It wasn’t even a month since Maria Lucretia was in Stupinigi when she ran away again, this time she somehow managed to get to London and is living with her mother.” Castlereagh sighed.

Anthony massaged his forehead. A runaway mischievous noble girl.

The girl had already run away dozens of times, didn’t they think at some point of maybe locking the doors? Putting locks on her windows? Maybe double the guard? If it was with him the girl would already be on a lash.

“Despite the press, the princesses were not tainted, the girl is living with her mother, far from where she can cause scandal, what, after all, is the problem?” Anthony leaned across the table, trying hard to keep calm about the situation.

“The King’s daughters are instrumental in the negotiations to come, to strengthen ties between all the allied nations, as usual, royal weddings are expected, and the King has five princesses of marriageable age.” Castlereagh looked like he was about to start perspiring. “During the London season, a husband must be arranged for the Marchioness, she must be immediately transferred to the custody of a suitable chaperon, and presented to the good English society.” The elder lord cleared his throat. “The King personally requested that she be placed under the protection of your family, at the suggestion of the Crown Prince, apparently he met your younger brother last year

Anthony immediately tensed in his chair. Shocked at the direction his day had taken.

Colin had met a prince, and apparently made a good enough impression that the man had recommended their family.

“The Dowager Viscountess was highly successful last season, marrying your sister Daphne to the Duke of Hastings, she is also a highly respected woman in our society.” The Secretary of Foreign Affairs continued before the Viscount’s silence. “The young woman needs a husband, a man of strong spirit, who will give her some children so that she can settle down.“

“And if she doesn’t settle down, is it her husband’s problem?” Anthony felt his irritation about to explode, and he knew full well that it never led to anything.

He already had enough problems, enough things to take care of and manage. This was Eloise's season, which was proving to be challenging enough, and he had every intention of finding himself a wife this year. The last thing he needed was a naughty young lady being placed in his custody, potentially someone who would be an even worse influence on Eloise.

He swallowed a few less polite words of frustration and took a deep breath, allowing Robert to continue.

“Exactly.” Continued Robert. “ Sicily is a point of extreme strategic importance, King Cesare Amedeo wishes to strengthen his alliance with Great Britain and believes that an English husband would be the best solution. A nobleman, of course, but naturally a Catholic one. Our government have agreed to help. In any case, the young lady is already in London. You will have carte blanche in the choice of men. The King is offering a hefty dowry, as well as a considerable annual income. Whoever the suitor may be, he must be informed that the King hopes to be able to see his daughter from time to time in Palermo with the children she will eventually have.”

“Is she unattractive?”

“Quite the contrary. I’ve been told she is very beautiful.” Castlereagh blushed slightly.

“So, let’s see the situation. The girl is beautiful, the father is a king, there’s a lot of money in the dowry. Despite her indiscretions, I'm sure there will be prominent Catholic families who would be eager for the union. And there's still a generous annuity on His Majesty’s part.”

“The King insists that the husband possess substantial wealth. No fortune hunter.”

“Does the girl’s opinion have any value in choosing a bridegroom?”

“No.” Castlereagh said dryly.

“Is this some kind of punishment?” Anthony asked in exasperation.

There was no other explanation than with as many capable people, he was the one being tasked with such a task.

“Many would kill for that Bridgerton chance.” The eldest noble said. “Maria Lucretia must be removed from her mother’s house and contact between them cut off. It seems that the mother visited the young woman often when she was in those schools for girls, and the King believes that the mother's influence is responsible for the girl being so indomitable.” Robert handed him a handful of documents. “Here are the Prime Minister’s official orders for you, together with the dowry specifications, and the document of all the boons being offered to your family for such services to The Crown.” the Secretary of Foreign Affairs rose from his chair with an air of end of conversation.

Lord Bridgerton didn’t even have room to protest the mission to which he was entrusted. Mission he hadn't asked for.

With a formal farewell, he left, but nothing stopped him from making his way back to Grosvenor Square cursing his brother's Mediterranean tour and the Italian young ladies.

Lucretia loved living with her mother. They shopped, talked, and spent countless hours together. Deprived of her mother since childhood, save for brief annual visits while studying in France, she felt that she and her Mama were finally one real family.

Marie Charlotte de Luynes was a charming and opulent hostess with a large circle of close and influential friends she received at her elegant Piccadilly residence, a temporary address while her new home was built in St.James by Nash, a larger residence to house her sizable library, and the art collection that she had brought with her from Italy and France.

Living on the sidelines of society due to the scandal of her life, Marie Charlotte didn't pay much attention to social norms, and there was nothing she liked more than scandalizing the ladies of the Haute Monde.

For her part, Lucretia was having a great time with her mother. Anything she wanted to do was allowed, and she could go wherever she desired. With her mother, she found that freedom lived up to all her expectations. Marie gave her a generous allowance and all kinds of delicious suggestions on how to spend it, and if anyone knew how to spend money, it was Marie Charlotte.

Lucretia entered her mother's room to see if Marie Charlotte wanted to accompany her shopping, only to find her mother was already busy. Her modiste was fitting her into a blue velvet riding habit.

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to accompany you today, my love. I have many appointments for this afternoon.” She spoke to her daughter in Italian, trying not to move. “My riding habit just arrived.”

“I am seeing.” Lucretia studied her mother for a moment.

The royal blue of the suit paired well with Maria Charlotte’s flaxen hair, and made her violet-blue eyes even more vibrant. The modiste, Madame Delacroix, wasn’t just adjusting her riding habit, the woman was actually sewing the pieces of clothing directly onto Marie Charlotte’s still slender body, thus achieving an outfit so skin-tight that it would no doubt cause a scandal among the ladies. the ladies.

“Are you wearing something underneath this?” The girl asked her mother as she threw herself on the soft pillows on the bed.

“Nothing.” Marie Charlotte replied with a mischievous smile, lifting her arm so the modiste could sew the side seam over her bare skin. “I’m terrible, am I not?”

“The worst.” she agreed, with a little smile that mirrored her mother’s. “But that won’t stop the other ladies from running off to copy your outfit.” Lucretia giggled, English ladies could turn up their noses at their Mama, but whatever Marie Charlotte wore, the next week ten other women were wearing the same. “In a few days Madame Delacroix will be stitching ladies into their riding habit.”

“Exactly.” Marie Charlotte nodded with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “But when they start wearing this fashion, I'll be doing something else.”

Even at the age of seven and thirty, she hadn't left the height of her beauty behind yet, able to easily pass for an older sister of her daughter, always small and slender, and with a strict beauty regimen,, Marie Charlotte’s daring yet impeccable sense of fashion still influenced the respectable ladies of society.

Lucretia smiled, fanning herself with one of her mother's feather fans.

“I suppose you already have some new sensation in mind.”

“But of course my dear.” replied Marie as a maid in olive green uniform entered the dressing room with a business card in a silver tray. “I just purchased four Turk horses, white and absolutely beautiful, and the carriage that Lord Wellington has ordered for me will arrive in a fortnight. In Luyne blue, it has mother-of-pearl inlaid on the doors and the softest chassis you can imagine. I will wear a feathered hat and lace veil, and I will glide through Hyde Park like a swan through water, making the other ladies envious.”

Lord Wellington was her mother’s latest lover, and one of the most famous Britons of the day. He was married, but lived apart from his wife. He was good-natured and very handsome, and very clearly adored her mother. Even though Marie Charlotte was evidently a very wealthy woman and in need of nothing, the newly made Duke showered her with extravagant gifts.

She looked at herself in the mirror.

“Not now, Hester.” Marie replied in perfect English, without a hint of an accent, as the maid handed her the business card. “God in heaven, can’t you see I’m only half-dressed? I couldn’t see anyone right now.”

“The gentleman claims he is here on a matter of great importance.” retorted the maid. “Said you were expecting his arrival. Shall I ask Mr. Porter to tell him you left?”

Marie Charlotte shifted position in step with the modiste, who was preparing to stitch the other side, and then took another look at the card.

“By God, is he down there now? I must have confused myself, I thought he would come tomorrow...” The woman broke off, giving her daughter a furtive glance. “Tell him I'll be down in a few minutes.”

“Yes ma’am.” Hester put the business card on the dressing table, bowed, and left.

“Who is he?” Lucretia asked, curious about her mother's behavior and the furtive glance she received.

“I don’t know, my dear.” replied the woman. “Go shopping and have fun.” She tilted her head, glancing at the dressmaker, who was kneeling, closing the seam under her arm. “I’m afraid you'll have to hurry Genevieve. It’s not good to keep a man waiting too long, especially when it’s a political issue. They get impatient the poor things!”

Lucretia frowned suspiciously. Her mother's manner was unmistakably strange. She got up and walked over to the dressing table, as if she didn't want anything, and took the card before her mother could guess her intention.

“Anthony Bridgerton, Viscount Bridgerton.” She read aloud. “Viscount Bridgerton, I’ve heard that name.” She frowned, trying to remember where she knew him. Nothing came to mind. “And what is Lord Bridgerton doing here?”

Marie Charlotte sighed.

“A note came from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs saying that he was coming to pay me a brief visit and that I should wait for him.” She gestured toward the card, going back to speaking in Italian for privacy. “I can’t refuse to see him.”

Lucretia looked up from the card and studied her mother’s reflection in the mirror, noting how nervous Marie Charlotte looked and avoided looking into her eyes.

Like a sudden intuition. Lucretia understood exactly what the English Lord was doing there.

“They’re trying to get rid of me with a marriage, aren’t they? The same way they’re going to do with Christina, Amalia, Louise, Carolina and Antonia.” She saw the truth in her mother's face. “Isn’t it?”

Marie Charlotte sighed.

“I didn’t want you to know any of this until I spoke to Lord Bridgerton personally.”

“But that’s why he’s here isn’t it?” Lucretia’s blood began to boil.

“They’re here to discuss the possibility of marrying you, yes. Oh, my dear,” she added as she studied her daughter’s pretty face, “you’ve always wanted a home and marriage and babies.” Marie Charlotte tried to smile. “When you were little, I don’t even know how many times we planned your wedding, and dolls were the only toys you wanted to play with. Please don’t tell me that episode with François made you give up on love and that you intend to be a spinster, because I know her too well to believe that. Besides, I’d hate not to have grandchildren.”

“I want to marry for love, Mama! I have no intention of letting any lord choose my husband because the Royal Council has determined so.” Visit card clutched in hand, Lucretia began marching toward the door. “And I’m going to say that to this greasy little Lord, so he can pass the message on.”

“Lucretia, don’t do anything rash.” It was the plea made by her mother as she left. “Lord Bridgerton is a powerful man with a lot of influence in society. Remember what I always told you, you attract more bees with honey than with vinegar.”

“Oh, I intend to be sweet as honey,” promised Lucretia, opening the door to the room, “when I send him to hell.” Ignoring her mother’s irritated moan, Lucretia headed toward the stairs.

Marie Charlotte d'Albret, Duchess of Luynes, had been born an Archduchess of the House of Habsburg in Austria, and a diplomatic marriage had made her Duchess of Luynes at the age of sixteen, her husband, the last heir of the ancient and very rich Luynes Family, was twenty years her senior and a French ambassador to the court of the newly crowned King of the Two Sicily.

The tale was that the king had fallen madly and immediately in love with the Austrian beauty as soon as he set his eyes on her, and had wooed her as if the two were unencumbered. And Marie Charlotte ruled all the Court of King Cesare Amedeo di Savoie, whose sovereign was at her feet as before a goddess. She disposed of the favors of her lover, and was feared and courted by the ministry and foreign dignitaries. Marie Charlotte eventually ran away from her husband and lover after ten years in Palermo with the help of her new lover, Lord Lovejoy, the English ambassador nearly causing a diplomatic disaster. Rumor has it that she fled to escape the King's obsessive love, leaving in Palermo a daughter, who the King loved passionately.

Thanks to her lover’s favor, Madame de Luynes was an immensely wealthy woman, but the death of the Duc de Luynes in 1808 made her one of the richest women in Europe.

Lord Bridgerton had expected something different from the Duchess of Luynes' house, something worthy of her extravagant reputation. In this he could not be more wrong.

The residence she lived in was an elegant Piccadilly house, temporary, if rumors were to be believed. The butler could not have been more dignified and impeccable, and the drawing room was elegant and purely English, decorated in willow green and dark wood.

The drawing room held an enviable collection of books, and Anthony was perusing the titles when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. He returned a copy of Homer's Iliad to its place and turned as a young woman stopped at the door to the room.

No one would mistake her for an English girl, and Anthony knew immediately that he had before him Maria Lucretia of Savoia, Marchesa di Montferrat.

Like a flash, the image of the young woman running through one of Italy's wildflower-covered meadows, barefoot and laughing, holding her skirts in her hands and with her hair blowing in the wind like sunbeams came to his mind. Strange, he thought, that his fantasy should evoke such a vivid scene, for Anthony was not a man given to the imagination.

There was an aura of barely contained energy around her that made her look incredibly vivacious in contrast to the conventional British decor around her.

The lady before him was tall, about six inches shorter than he was. She had long legs, a slim waist, and the generous curves of a courtesan—curves that the low-cut white muslin dress flaunted generously—surely her mother's influence.

She had the jade eyes that her father's lineage was famous for, her skin as fair and smooth as the foam that coats a cappuccino, there was nothing conventional about her. She didn't have that pink rosebud mouth that was so considered an indispensable requirement in a beautiful woman. Maria Lucretia's mouth was generous, and her lips were full and red like a ripe cherry.

Unable to take his eyes from that mouth, Anthony couldn't help but think that no man who knew this girl would care about conventional beauty requirements or her rebellious past. The society ladies would rave about her, but for any hot-blooded man, Lucretia di Savoia was the purest delight.

Anthony took a deep breath. He could understand why the King had tried to lock his daughter in a convent.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x oc #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton imagines

37 notes · View notes