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bosbas · 13 days

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Chapter 7: something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in Spanish, idiots in love-ish moments (maybe idiots in non-hate?)

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

June 1, 1816 – A few whispers have been floating around about Lord Arthur Barlow’s whereabouts following his escapade with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball, but this author must sadly say that she has no credible information on the subject. The Duke has likely paid his staff handsomely to avoid any news reaching the curious ears of the ton, much to our disappointment. While propriety suggests that his wedding plans to Miss Barrington should be in full swing, Lord Barlow is not particularly known for his propriety, and therefore we cannot assume anything.

Among other Montclair-related news, two of the Count’s children arrived in London yesterday: Lord Philippe Montclair IV and Lady Isabelle de la Torre, accompanied by their respective spouses and children. Is this unexpected gathering somehow linked to Lady Y/N's recent entanglement in scandal, or is it merely a coincidental family reunion?

You wrung your hands nervously in your carriage bound for Hyde Park, not quite able to sit still. Beside you sat Leonor, Philippe's wife, while your sisters, sitting opposite from you, observed your anxious demeanor with growing impatience. Isabelle, in particular, seemed annoyed by your restless gestures, her irritation palpable in the air.

“Y/N, for heaven's sake, it’s not like you’ve been compromised in any way!” said Isabelle, exasperated. “You’ll find someone else, and the Duke’s betrayal will be but a distant memory.”

It was easy for her to say; after all, her own search for a husband had been nothing short of a fairy tale. Unlike the rest of your siblings, Isabelle had had a love match from the beginning, and it only made it easier that Carlos, her now-husband, had strong ties to the royal family. Though her love story had been one for the ages, the fact that it had happened so easily was making her quite unsympathetic to your loss of a Duke you weren’t even properly interested in.

“I might as well have been! Lady Whistledown is still mentioning my involvement in the scandal, and your presence isn’t helping.” You thanked the universe that your mother was on another carriage with Louis, Carlos, and Philippe, and hadn’t heard you being rude toward your sister.

"And why should we care about the musings of this Lady Whistledown?" retorted Isabelle with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“These English people treat that gossip column like gospel,” said Charlotte, crinkling her nose in disdain. “Though I dare say, Y/N, your predicament isn't as dire as you're painting it," she added, casting you a knowing glance.

"You two can afford to be cavalier about it, being safely married," you sighed, feeling defeated, and turned your gaze back out the window.

As your carriage rolled into the park, Leonor leaned in, placing her hand over yours. “No te preocupes, cariño,” she whispered reassuringly, so only you could hear (Don’t worry, sweetheart). “En todo caso, te vienes a España con tu hermano y conmigo” (In any case, you can come to Spain with your brother and me).

You smiled at her, resigned, but grateful for her offer. As you surveyed the bustling crowd outside, predominantly comprised of eligible men, the allure of Spain beckoned. It would certainly have better weather than London. And at least there was no Lady Whistledown in Salamanca. Though with the seemingly endless sources the woman had, you wouldn’t doubt her abilities to follow you there, too.

Stepping down from your carriage and walking toward the crowd of people in the park, you made eye contact with one of the gentlemen who had called on you yesterday. Though his poem had nearly put you to sleep, you smiled politely anyway. Perhaps he would be the first to talk to you today and ask for a turn about the park, and you would be able to finally relax in the knowledge that at least one person was still interested in you.

Though you hadn’t seen or heard from Lord Barlow since the Bridgerton ball, he still lingered in your mind. He ended up being just like any other man, you thought, annoyed. You hadn’t necessarily expected him to be the picture of attentiveness and love, especially not when you had only known each other a little over a month, but it was still disappointing to see how it had all turned out.

"Lady Montclair," a voice interjected, drawing your attention to your right. Startled, you turned to see Colin Bridgerton, sporting an uncharacteristically earnest smile.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” you inquired.

You had thought your dance two nights prior had been a one-time event, a small courtesy on his part, for Eloise, so you didn’t look a complete fool upon your re-entry to society. So why was he here now? Had he come here to resume tormenting you? You weren’t quite sure you had the energy for that today, already feeling the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about how many men you would have to impress and the intense scrutiny you would face from the rest of the ton.

“Would you care for a promenade?” his voice, a gentle invitation, broke through your thoughts.

“A prom- What?” you said lowly, careful that no one would hear you. “You already danced with me once, and it was more than enough,” you assured him.

Colin was fighting an internal battle. He was torn between still being absolutely enchanted by you after one dance, and the larger part of him that was annoyed that you apparently didn’t want to speak with him today. Yet, true to form, Colin’s more combative side won out.

“Well, I don’t particularly see gentlemen lining up to speak with you today, so I rather think you might need some more help,” he shot back.

You felt your face flush as you gasped in offense. “That is so patronizing. I’ve barely been here three seconds! I hardly think that amount of time is indicative of whether any suitors would like to speak with me today.”

It was true; Colin had rushed to greet you moments after you had stepped down from your carriage. But aside from the fact that he was embarrassed by his eagerness and trying to cover it up, he was not about to let up, not against you.

“Do you think, for once in your life, you could engage with me without throwing a fit?” he asked you, anger seeping into his words.

You were speechless, your eyes wide as you stared at him. Your instinct would have been to get mad at him, but unfortunately, he was right. You were struggling to let yourself be vulnerable with Colin, never mind how good of a time you had had dancing with him. But you were too stubborn to accept his offer to walk with him. You simply stared at him, your eyes swimming with uncertainty, and silently willed him to keep pushing you to accept his help. It was the only way you would allow yourself to do it, and you were relieved when he held out his arm for you to take.

“Come along,” he said, rolling his eyes. “For both our sakes, we should just walk to avoid a scene.”

“Very well, then,” you relented, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. You were momentarily distracted by the feeling of his arm beneath your touch. It lit a fire inside of you that you weren’t familiar with, and you suddenly found yourself out of breath.

“My sister can chaperone,” he suggested, gently guiding you toward where his family was situated.

You could only nod dumbly in response, the flutters in your lower abdomen only growing stronger when he placed his hand over yours. Vaguely registering Daphne and Simon waving at you, you smiled and greeted them, grateful to have something else to focus on that wasn't Mr. Bridgerton's very well-sculpted arms.

As you began to stroll, the Bassets a few paces behind you, you felt that your voice was stable enough to begin a conversation. “So, Mr. Bridgerton, indulge my curiosity and tell me more about your travels. Have you ever been lost at sea?”

Colin smiled at you, unable to hold back his fondness for you once again, and his breath was stolen from his lips as he made eye contact with you. You looked back eagerly, staring straight into him, and he was momentarily speechless. But you blinked, indicating that you were still awaiting a response, and he realized he had forgotten himself once again in your presence, an alarmingly increasing trend.

After clearing his throat, Colin answered, “A few times, yes. Most unfortunate was the time we became lost in the twilight hours when it was freezing out, but the stars proved an exceptionally useful tool in helping us find our way.”

“The stars?” you asked, curious. Could it be that you and Colin had yet another thing in common? It was hard to parse who he had been with you the past few days with the man you had a rivalry with practically from the moment you arrived in England. Who was the real Colin?

“Yes, indeed,” affirmed Colin, his voice revealing a hint of excitement. “They’re actually quite a useful tool. Regardless of our whereabouts, we look at the same constellations, albeit from differing vantage points. For instance, if you look up at the sky any of these nights, and you see three stars close together arranged in a line, that’s-”

“Orion’s belt,” you finished for him, your voice soft. Then, seeing his amused, and admittedly curious, smile, you explained, “My governess used to take me outside at night, even in the winter, so I could look at the stars. I know a fair few constellations, and I always like to know which ones are visible to me.”

Colin shook his head in wonder. The universe was a cruel thing, to make you so perfectly suited to him and make you hate him more than you hated, apparently, anyone or anything else. But it wasn’t like he liked you any better, he reasoned.

“I’d wager you’d be a wonderful navigator, then,” he said. “I’m certain you’d never get lost in treacherous waters.” He had to physically bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that you go with him on his next trip around the world.

You hummed softly in response. It never quite felt like you had a grip on where you were going. Usually, you just felt like you were groping around in the dark, desperately trying to find the right way to go.

The promenade stretched on longer than anticipated, with both of you engaging in pleasant conversation throughout, and more than a few stolen glances. It was a shock, really, when Daphne cleared her throat politely behind you and Colin. You suddenly realized that you and Colin had been walking together for longer than was typically appropriate.

“It might be time for Lady Montclair to promenade with someone else,” she suggested gently, a sympathetic smile on her face as she looked at Colin's crestfallen face. Turning away from you, she leaned over and whispered something unintelligible to Simon as the pair walked away back toward the rest of the Bridgertons, allowing you and Colin a few moments of privacy.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, finding yourself slightly disappointed that your time together was ending. “I’m not quite sure I would have needed your saving again, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Suddenly, you noticed a piece of lint on the lapel of Colin’s jacket. You reached over, almost instinctively, and picked it off. Your fingers barely grazed his chest, and his words caught in his throat as he saw your hand reach toward his chest in slow motion.

The two of you stood still, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, one of your hands still extended toward him. Realizing your actions necessitated an explanation, you hurriedly brought your hand back to your side again and averted your gaze, avoiding eye contact with Colin.

“Lint,” you explained awkwardly. “On your coat.”

Oh, how could you have done something so brash? And in such a public setting, too, you scolded yourself.

“I-Th-Well, I-Thank you, Lady Montclair,” Colin stuttered out, his brain short-circuiting from your intimate gesture. But you were already walking away, fists clenched at your sides as he saw you walking back to your family.

Once more, you were intercepted by what could only be described as a horde of men vying for your favor. But, just like two nights prior, all Colin could feel was a pleasant warmth spreading through him as he watched you walk away, your laughter ringing like music in his ears.

He knew what that was like now. To have you genuinely laugh at something he said. And it was different from how you were with these men. Even different from how you had been with the Duke. His heart warmed when he realized he had something of you that no one else did, and he wanted to bottle up your laugh and keep it in his breast pocket, forever a reminder of you near his heart.

A short distance away, Carlos observed with amusement as Colin stood there, seemingly transfixed by your departure. Standing beside him was Leonor, who had also been privy to the entire spectacle. The two often found themselves together during family outings, enjoying speaking in Spanish for a change.

“La ama,” Carlos said to Leonor, his tone tinged with amusement at Colin's evident infatuation (He loves her).

Suppressing a chuckle, Leonor discreetly cleared her throat. “Y cuanto tiempo crees que será hasta que se de cuenta?” she quipped in response (And how long do you think it'll be until he realizes?).

---

In the late afternoon, you found yourself seated by the pianoforte, the pleasant notes of your scales filling the room. Across from you, your mother quietly engrossed herself in a book, while Isabelle diligently worked on her needlepoint. Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere of your sitting room was disrupted as your butler made an unexpected entrance.

“Lady Montclair, a visitor,” he said politely, bowing slightly.

Your fingers stopped playing and you looked toward your mother, who had a questioning look on her face.

“I hadn’t been expecting anyone. And at this hour? Is everything alright?” she asked the butler.

His face flushed slightly. “My apologies, I meant Lady Y/N Montclair,” he corrected himself. “It’s the Duke.”

But he barely had time to announce your visitor before Lord Barlow strode into your sitting room, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes. He looked positively ghastly, and you wouldn’t have doubted it if he told you he hadn’t slept in a week.

He was panting and slightly sweaty, clearly having rushed over to your home for some unknown reason, when he took off his hat and crouched next to the pianoforte bench.

“Forgive me,” he addressed the other women in the room. Then, turning back to you, he roughly grasped your hand, placing a wet kiss on the back of it. You slightly cringed in disgust, not particularly wanting this man anywhere near you.

“Y/N, my darling, I am so terribly sorry for what happened at the Bridgerton ball. It was unforgivable. Except that you must forgive me!” he pleaded, voice full of desperation.

You were utterly confused, and more than a little angry. Who did this man think he was, barging into your home at this hour and demanding forgiveness? You shared a look with your mother, who looked equally as scandalized.

“Lord Bar-” you started, but before you could finish, he interrupted you, grasping your hand even tighter.

“No! Not Lord Barlow. Arthur. Your Arthur. It’s me; I’m here. What happened with Miss Barrington was a foolish mistake, and it will never happen again. Marry me, Y/N. Marry me and make me the happiest man in all of Mayfair. In all of England, even. Please,” he begged.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Leonor leaving the room quietly, and your stomach churned uncomfortably at the idea of having to face this man on your own. You breathed deeply, calming yourself with the thought that your mother remained in the room before you addressed Lord Barlow.

“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head. “What of Miss Barrington? She will be ruined if you do not marry her.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back and shaking his head in annoyance. “What of her? She is not as important to me as you are,” he said lowly. “I do not have with her what I have with you. I need you, Y/N. Please marry me.”

Letting the anger that had been slowly bubbling inside you take over, you snatched your hand out of his grip and stood up, towering over him. “Are you quite finished? You are completely unbelievable. I will not marry you, your Grace, and it is egregious that you would even suggest it. Do you truly have so little respect for Miss Barlow that you would leave her, ruined, as you married someone else? Do you truly think so lowly of me that you thought I would say yes?”

“Barlow, take your leave,” came a commanding voice from the doorway before the Duke could respond to you.

With a surge of relief, you caught sight of Louis and Philippe standing firm with Leonor at their side, their expressions firm and determined, while she was looking anxiously between you and Lord Barlow.

But the Duke was relentless, his desperation palpable as he pleaded his case, his words brimming with urgency. He stood up from where he had been kneeling and turned to face your brothers. "You don’t understand. I must marry your sister. I must!"

“I believe my brother asked you to take your leave, your Grace,” said Philippe, voice cold and cutting. “Louis, if you could be so kind as to escort Lord Barlow out.”

Louis wasted no time, roughly grabbing Barlow’s arm and dragging him away from you as the man protested profusely. But your brother wasn’t going to let him hurt you again. It was bad enough that he had already done it once, but Louis would rather come to blows right now in your home than let the Duke stand in your presence for another second.

As Louis ushered Lord Barlow out of your sitting room, Philippe placed a protective hand in front of Leonor and pulled her behind him. Ensuring his wife’s safety, he turned to you, a concerned expression on his face.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

But you didn’t have time to answer, your father storming into the room with fury in his eyes.

“Was that Barlow I saw in the hall? Can someone give me an explanation?" he demanded, his gaze fixed on your stricken expression.

Your voice trembled as you confessed, still reeling from the shock of the encounter. "He asked me to marry him," you admitted, the words hanging heavily in the air.

“She said no, of course. And put him in his place,” your mother added, eyes wide and fixed on the doorway still. It seemed that Lord Barlow’s unexpected appearance had been an unwelcome shock for her, too.

Your father placed his hands on his hips, staring at the two of you in disbelief. “Well done,” he finally conceded after a few moments of silence.

You nodded meekly in response, not quite feeling anything right at this minute.

“He is not worthy of you, Y/N. A title and fortune are important, of course, but so is honor. And he clearly has none,” said your father, disgust clear in his voice.

You’d heard this speech a million times, but this time the words rang loudly in your ears. A title and fortune are important, his words echoed in your mind. It was what your father always said, but this time you couldn’t help thinking: Colin Bridgerton, whom you had developed an inexplicable fondness for, possessed neither title nor fortune.

But as quickly as the doubt arose, you cast it aside. You reminded yourself firmly that Colin was not the sort of man a Montclair could marry. The reality was stark, and you refused to entertain the notion that such a match could ever be possible. You weren’t even sure that you liked the man, why were you thinking of marrying him?

—

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napoleonic-sexyman-tournament · 2 months

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Barbara Childe:

Propaganda:

“Heroine of An Infamous Army. Appears and is instantly described as having "hair like my best copper coal scuttle" Accidentally has an emotional affair with a guy. When it is pointed out to her his wife is mad as hell, decides to do it on purpose because his wife was rude when she was trying to scotch scandal.”

Jérôme Bonaparte

Propaganda:

“Napoleon’s little bro. He was very handsome. His grandson created the FBI, so that’s a thing. The painting of him by Antoine-Jean Gros is awesome. He employed the Grimm brothers (Jacob Grimm was his librarian). Ruled part of Germany (Westphalia). One of Napoleon’s councilors of state, Louis-Philippe de Trémont, described Jérôme as a “half-educated, frivolous, prodigal and effeminate young satrap and sybarite” and if that isn’t just the darnedest description, I don’t what it is.”

The Gros Portrait in question:

#napoleonic sexyman tournament #also i wanted to use the portrait of jerome on a ship #because it makes him look hot #but i could not find a decent quality unwatermarked version #so if anyone in the napoleonic fandom has it...

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comtessezouboff · 2 months

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Paintings from Buckingham Palace: part II

A retexture by La Comtesse Zouboff — Original Mesh by @thejim07

Spread among 13 occupied and historic royal residences in the United Kingdom, the collection is owned by King Charles III and overseen by the Royal Collection Trust. The British monarch owns some of the collection in right of the Crown and some as a private individual. It is made up of over one million objects, including 7,000 paintings, over 150,000 works on paper, this including 30,000 watercolours and drawings, and about 450,000 photographs, as well as around 700,000 works of art, including tapestries, furniture, ceramics, textiles, carriages, weapons, armour, jewellery, clocks, musical instruments, tableware, plants, manuscripts, books, and sculptures.

Some of the buildings which house the collection, such as Hampton Court Palace, are open to the public and not lived in by the Royal Family, whilst others, such as Windsor Castle, Kensington Palace and the most remarkable of them, Buckingham Palace are both residences and open to the public.

About 3,000 objects are on loan to museums throughout the world, and many others are lent on a temporary basis to exhibitions.

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The second part includes paintings displayed in the Ball Supper Room, the Ballroom, the Ballroom Annexe, the Bow Room, the East Gallery, the Grand Entrance and Marble Hall, the Minister's Landing & Staircase, the Vestibule, the Chinese Dining Room and the Balcony Room.

This set contains 57 paintings and tapestries with the original frame swatches, fully recolourable. They are:

Ball Supper Room (BSR):

Portrait of King George III of the United Kingdom (Benjamin West)

Ballroom (BR):

The Story of Jason: The Battle of the Soldiers born of The Serpent's Teeth (the Gobelins)

The Story of Jason: Medea Departs for Athens after Setting Fire to Corinth (the Gobelins)

Ballroom Annexe (BAX):

The Apotheosis of Prince Octavius (Benjamin West)

Bow Room (BWR):

Portrait of Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge (William Corden the Younger)

Portrait of Princess Augusta of Cambridge, Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (Alexander Melville)

Portrait or George, Duke of Cambridge (William Corden the Younger)

Portrait of Frederick William, Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Augusta of Saxe-Weimar, Princess of Prussia, later Queen of Prussia and German Empress (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Prince Leopold, Later Duke of Albany (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Ernest, Prince of Hohenlohe-Langeburg (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Ferdinand of Savoy, Duke of Genoa (Eliseo Sala)

Portrait of Marie Alexandrina of Saxe-Altenburg, Queen Consort of Hanover (Carl Ferdinand Sohn)

Portrait of Leopold, Duke of Brabant, Later Leopold II, King of the Belgians (Nicaise de Keyser)

Portrait of Marie Henriette, Archduchess of Austria and Duchess of Brabant, Later Queen of the Belgians (Nicaise de Keyser)

East Gallery (EG):

Portrait of Leopold I, King of the Belgians (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Victoria, Queen of England in Coronation Robes (Sir George Hayter)

Portrait of Louis-Philippe d'Orléans, King of the French (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Consort Queen of England with her Children at Windsor Castle (Benjamin West)

Portrait of Prince Adolphus, later Duke of Cambridge, With Princess Mary and Princess Sophia at Kew (Benjamin West)

The Coronation of Queen Victoria in Westminster Abbey, 28 June, 1838. (Sir George Hayter)

The Christening of Edward, Prince of Wales 25 January, 1842 (Sir George Hayter)

The Marriage of Queen Victoria, 10 February, 1840 (Sir George Hayter)

Portrait of the Royal Family in 1846 (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert as King Edward III and Queen Philippa of Hainault at the Ball Costumé of 12 May, 1842 (Sir Edwin Landseer)

Grand Entrance and Marble Hall (GEMH):

Portrait of Edward, Duke of Kent (John Hoppner)

Portrait of Ernest I, Duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha (George Dawe)

Portrait of Victoria of Saxe-Coburg-Saafeld, Dowager Duchess of Kent (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Albert, Prince Consort of the United Kingdom (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Victoria, Queen Consort of the United Kingdom in State Robes (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Louise d'Orléans, Consort Queen of the Belgians, with her Son Leopold, Duke of Brabant (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Feodora of Leiningen, Princess of Hohenlohe-Langeburg, with her Daughter, Princess Adelheid (Sir George Hayter)

Portrait of George, Prince of Wales, Later King George IV (Mather Byles Brown)

Portrait of Victoire of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Duchess of Nemours (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Augustus, Duke of Sussex (Domenico Pellegrini)

Portrait of Leopold I, King of the Belgians (William Corden the Younger)

Minister's Landing and Staircase (MLS):

Portrait of George, Prince of Wales in Garther Robes (John Hoppner)

The Loves of the Gods: The Rape of Europa (the Gobelins)

The Loves of the Gods: The Rape of Proserpine (The Gobelins)

Vestibule (VL):

Portrait of Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, the Prince Consort (Unknown Artist from the German School)

Portrait of Princess Alice of the United Kingdom, Later Grand Duchess of Hesse (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Princess Helena of the United Kingdom, Later Princess Christian of Schleswig-Holstein (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Princess Louise of the United Kingdom, Later Duchess of Argyll (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Princess Victoria of the United Kingdom, Later Empress Frederick of Germany (Franz Xaver Winterhalter)

Portrait of Victoria Mary of Teck, Duchess of York (Edward Hughes)

Chinese Dining Room or Pavilion Breakfast Room(CDR):

Set of Four Painted Chinoiserie Wall panels I (Robert Jones)

Set of Four Painted Chinoiserie Wall panels II (Robert Jones)

Set of Four Painted Chinoiserie Wall panels III (Robert Jones)

Set of Four Painted Chinoiserie Wall panels IV (Robert Jones)

Balcony Room or Centre Room (BR):

Chinoiserie Painted Panel I (Robert Jones)

Chinoiserie Painted Panel II (Robert Jones)

Chinoiserie Painted Panel III (Robert Jones)

Chinoiserie Painted Panel IV (Robert Jones)

EXTRAS! (E):

I decided to add the rest of the tapestries from the story of Jason (wich hangs in the Grand Reception Room at Windsor Castle) and (with Jim's permission) added the original mesh for paintings number 2,3,4 & 5 from the Vestibule (seen here and here) wich was never published. These items are:

The Story of Jason: Jason Pledges his Faith to Medea (the Gobelins)

The Story of Jason: Jason Marries Glauce, Daughter of Creon, King of Thebes (the Gobelins)

The Story of Jason: The Capture of the Golden Fleece (the Gobelins)

The Story of Jason: The Poisoning of Glauce and Creon by Medea's Magic Robe (the Gobelins)

Sea Melodies (Herbert James Draper) (made by TheJim07)

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Found under decor > paintings for:

500§ (BWR: 1,2,3,4,5,6, & 8 |VL: 1)

570§ (VL: 2,3,4 & 5 |E: 5)

1850§ (GEMH: 1 & 3)

2090§ (GEMH: 2,6,7, 9 & 11)

3560§ (GEMH: 4,5 & 10 |BSR: 1 |EG: 1,2,3,4 & 5 |MLS: 1 |BAX: 1)

3900§ (CDR: 1,2,3 & 4 |BR: 1,2,3 & 4 |EG: 10 |VL: 6 |GEMH: 8)

4470§ (MLS: 2 |E: 1)

6520§ (BR 1 & 2| MLS: 3 |EG: 6,7,8 & 9 |BR: 1 & 2 |E: 2,3 & 4)

Retextured from:

"Saint Mary Magdalene" (BWR: 1,2,3,4,5,6, & 8 |VL: 1) found here.

"Sea Melodies" (VL: 2,3,4 & 5 |E: 5)

"The virgin of the Rosary" (GEMH: 1 & 3) found here.

"Length Portrait of Mrs.D" (GEMH: 4,5 & 10 |BSR: 1 |EG: 1,2,3,4 & 5 |MLS: 1 |BAX: 1) found here

"Portrait of Maria Theresa of Austria and her Son, le Grand Dauphin" (CDR: 1,2,3 & 4 |BR: 1,2,3 & 4 |EG: 10 |VL: 6 |GEMH: 8) found here

"Sacrifice to Jupiter" (MLS: 2 |E: 1) found here

"Vulcan's Forge" (BR 1 & 2| MLS: 3 |EG: 6,7,8 & 9 |BR: 1 & 2 |E: 2,3 & 4) found here

(you can just search for "Buckingham Palace" using the catalog search mod to find the entire set much easier!)

Disclaimer!

Some paintings in the previews look blurry but in the game they're very high definition, it's just because I had to add multiple preview pictures in one picture to be able to upload them all! Also sizes shown in previews are not accurate to the objects' actual sizes in most cases.

Drive

(Sims3pack | Package)

(Useful tags below)

@joojconverts @ts3history @ts3historicalccfinds @deniisu-sims @katsujiiccfinds @gifappels-stuff

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#the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #s3cc #sims 3 cc #sims 3 download #sims 3 decor #edwardian #victorian #regency #georgian #buckingham #buckingham palace #wall decor #sims 3 free cc #large pack #this was exhausting

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duchesssoflennox · 8 months

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Share with us, your favorite Potraits of Royals✨💋🥺🤍

my favorite royal portraits are infinite... However, I would love to share each and every one of them with you...🥺🫶💓

I'm obsessed with these 3 portraits of Queen Victoria's family, all painted by court painter Franz Xaver Winterhalter...🥰

1. Princess Alice of United Kingdom is wearing a white ball dress and a black shawl. Originally she held a wreath of flowers in her hand, but this was changed as the painting progressed. Franz Xaver Winterhalter began the painting on 4 June 1861 and on 13 June Queen Victoria wrote in her Journal that he had 'finished Alice's beautiful picture, which is so like & fine'.

Alice was the third child and second daughter of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. Known for her sweet nature, she often took on the role of peacekeeper in the royal household. Princess Helena, her sister, described her as 'loving Daughter and Sister, the devoted Wife and Mother, and a perfect, true Woman'.

2. Princess Louise of United kingdom was the sixth of Queen Victoria's nine children. Beautiful and artistic, as an adult she supported the women's movement and helped launch the Girls Public Day School Company.

3. Queen Victoria with her Four Eldest Children, Victoria Princess Royal, Prince Edward, Princess Alice, Prince Alfred.

The Queen asked Winterhalter to copy and arrange to her own design ‘my portrait with the 4 children’ from the central group in his painting of The Reception of Louis-Philippe, King of the French, at Windsor Castle, 8 October 1844.

She was pleased with the painting and noted in her Journal that it ‘looks quite lovely’.

#princess alice #princess louise #queen victoria #victoria princess royal #Edward VII #prince alfred

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dutch-and-flemish-painters · 2 months

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Franciscus Joseph Octave van der Donckt - Self portrait - 1789

Franciscus Joseph Octave van der Donckt (30 June 1757, Aalst - 16 August 1813, Bruges) was a Flemish portrait painter, miniaturist and pastellist. He is also referred to as Jozef Angelus Van der Donckt, as well as several other variations, too numerous to list.

After the early death of his father, his mother took him to her hometown of Bruges.

He had his first drawing lessons with an artist named Jacob De Rijcke, followed by painting lessons from Antoon Suweyns (1720-1789), Joseph-Benoît Suvée and Jan Anton Garemyn. At the same time, he studied the humanities at the Jesuit College. After graduating, his mother sent him to Marseille to learn the merchant trade.

He continued to be interested in art, however, and eventually moved to Paris, where he made the acquaintance of Louis Philippe I, Duke of Orléans and was allowed to copy paintings in his collection. He then travelled through Italy and returned to Bruges in 1791, becoming Director of the Academie voor Schone Kunsten. In 1796, he had a successful showing at the Salon in Ghent.

He is known primarily as a portrait painter, with a fondness for pastels. His most familiar works are a self-portrait and one of his niece, Sylvie de la Rue, who married the painter Joseph Denis Odevaere.

He also took the occasional student; notably Albert Gregorius. He is often confused with his son, François, a history painter about whom little is known.

#Franciscus Joseph Octave van der Donckt #18th #bruges #france #italy #selfportrait #history

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lahilden · 10 days

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The Palace of Versailles

The Palace of Versailles is located in Versailles, France. The royal château served as the seat of French political power. The palace was originally built as a hunting lodge for King Louis XIII and enlarged into a royal palace by Louis XIV. The château went through many expansion phases. The second phase in 1678-1715 saw two enormous wings added. Although the cost was extraordinary, it was decided the château should serve as a showcase for France. All the materials that went into construction and décor were manufactured in France. One of the most costly elements was the silver furniture and silver balustrade used by King Louis XIV for the grand apartments. The palace has a long history, with the royal family forced to leave Paris during the French Revolution. When the monarchy fell, Versailles Palace fell into ruin, and most of the furniture was sold. In 1810, Napoleon began restoration work, which continued under Louis XVIII in 1820, but it wasn’t until King Louis-Philippe that true efforts began. The Fifth Republic made further restorations in the 1950s and promoted the château as a museum. In 2003, a new restoration initiative began. The palace boasts 700 rooms, 67 staircases, and 1,250 fireplaces. The original façade, red brick with cut stone embellishments, has been preserved. The eastern side of the palace has a U-shaped layout with secondary wings and a black and white marble courtyard. Throughout its history, there have been five chapels on the site, the current one built in the Baroque style by King Louis XVI. The castle is also known for its Hall of Mirrors. This gallery is 230 feet long and holds 17 arcaded mirrors, while the ceiling is painted with 30 scenes from Louis XIV’s reign. The Royal Opera was completed in 1770. The castle has many opulent apartments, from the king’s private rooms to the staterooms. The palace gardens boast water fountains and an orangery. #PalaceOfVersailles #castles #palaces #museum #France #Versailles #history

#castles #palaces #palace of versailles #museums #history #france #versailles

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cliozaur · 5 months

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Hugo’s method of measuring governments’ achievements by the length of sewers they’ve built — there is something Freudian in it (Louis Philippe’s sewers were the longest).

We did not ask for this, but Hugo still told us about technical peculiarities and difficulties related to the construction of the sewers. It seems the rosy picture painted in the previous chapter of clean, straightened sewers was an exaggeration. The reality remained foul and hazardous—so, be prepared; it won't be a stroll for Jean Valjean. The popular saying 'to descend into the sewer is to enter the grave' reveals the grim state of these tunnels.

I am glad that Hugo finally mentioned cholera, although not in the context of the 1832 epidemic and the impending dangers for Valjean and Marius. Frankly, the chapter's title is somewhat misleading: upon reading it, I found nothing about 'future progress.' Instead, I encountered a lot of nineteenth-century nonsense about miasms in the air and healthy water.

#les mis letters #lm 5.2.6 #les miserables #jean valjean #marius pontmercy #sewers digression

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classic-art-favourites · 11 months

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Louis Philippe, King of the French by Franz Xaver Winterhalter, 1841.

#classic art #painting #franz xaver winterhalter #german artist #19th century #portrait #male portrait #indoor portrait #louis philippe i #king #house of orleans #fashion #palatial interior #chair

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cochitalinda2002 · 1 year

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Alexandre-Jean Dubois-Drahonet | France (1790–1834) | Female Nude | (French Portrait Painter)

Drahonet was a student and disciple of Neo-classical French master, Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres and first exhibited at the Salon in 1822. The young artist painted the future Queen of England (Queen Victoria) when a girl, commissioned by William IV in 1832 as part of a much larger commission of some ninety portraits of officers and soldiers in uniform (now in the Royal Collection, Windsor). It was part of the commission to paint a series of pictures illustrating recent changes in the uniforms and weapons of the British Army.

The artist also worked for Charles X, painting a portrait of his grandson, Henri, duke of Bordeaux (now in the Musée des Beaux-Arts, Bordeaux) and also worked for Louis-Philippe when duke of Orléans and after his accession.

#Alexandre Jean Dubois Drahonet #female nude #french painter #french artist #France #biography #artwork #paintings #art #artistsupport #blonde hair #aphrodite

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bosbas · 23 days

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Chapter 4: all they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in French, Colin in his feels asf

A/N: EEEEEP the plot is finally plottingggggggg

May 19, 1816 – By now, it’s fairly obvious that the esteemed Mr. Colin Bridergton and Lady Y/N Montclair have, to put it lightly, an intense dislike for one another. How this contention began, this author does not know. However, Lady Montclair has yet to dance with Mr. Colin Bridgerton at any ball this season, despite dancing with Benedict and even older brother Anthony Bridgerton. This, coupled with the endless glares between the two and Lady Montclair’s perpetual frown around Mr. Bridgerton, indicates a less-than-friendly relationship.

Luckily, this rivalry is not of any particular consequence to our heroine, since Lord Arthur Barlow seems on the cusp of a proposal. After a month-long courtship, it could be mere days before the Duke asks Lord Philippe Montclair for Lady Montclair’s hand in marriage. Although certainly a controversial choice from her parents to delay Y/N’s season, the wait would certainly pay off if she marries a Duke. This union, with the Duke of Monmouth’s title and the Montclair family’s extensive land ownership, would be one of the most advantageous Mayfair has seen since Charlotte Bexley, who just so happens to be Y/N’s sister, and her union to the Duke of Somerset. Shall we expect a public announcement soon? This author is certain that both families are itching for official confirmation.

Benedict thanked the bartender, sipping his brandy as he looked around at the gentlemen around him. Though Benedict and Colin had come to White’s together, the younger Bridgerton had gotten caught up in conversation with Lord Fife, leaving Benedict alone and slightly bored.

However, Louis Montclair’s appearance quickly piqued Benedict’s interest. It was the first time Benedict had seen Louis at the gentleman’s club, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to find out more about your unusual relationship with Colin. It was no secret that you and Colin couldn’t stand one another, but Benedict was far too absent at social functions to piece together what had happened by himself, and he thought Louis would be the perfect person to provide some clarity.

“Louis! I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking properly,” Benedict clapped him on the back as he approached him.

Louis turned around, grinning once he saw the Bridgerton.

“Ah, Benedict, of course. Every time my mother successfully forces me to attend a ball, you seem to be absent! One would think you’ve been avoiding me,” he said jovially.

Benedict laughed and shook his head. “Since my painting was placed in the national gallery, Mother hasn’t been too insistent on my appearance at social functions,” he explained. Then, with a cheeky smile, he added, “I believe the rivalry between our families starts and ends with Colin and Y/N.”

Louis rolled his eyes, annoyed at the reminder of your hatred toward Colin. “Lord knows what the two have against each other. Even just thinking about having to listen to my sister complain about Colin after tomorrow’s ball is giving me a headache.”

“Then a drink is in order, to be sure!” Benedict called over the bartender and asked for another glass of brandy for your brother. “Though I wouldn’t fret too much about your sister; I’m certain Colin must have done something unforgivable to elicit such a response,” he said, only half joking.

“Well, I’m sure he has. I do not doubt that,” responded Louis, grabbing his drink and thanking the bartender.

“Oh?” prompted Benedict, surprised by Louis’ affirmative response. He led your brother to a table in the back corner, sitting down across from him.

Taking a sip, Louis explained, “My sister might be the most irritating person I know, but she rarely holds anyone in her bad graces unless she has a good reason.”

Benedict just stared at your brother, eyebrows raised and waiting for further explanation. Had Colin acted out of line with you? He was supposed to be the sweetheart of London high society, but perhaps his brother had changed during his travels.

Louis paused, frowned thoughtfully, and continued. “Oddly enough, I haven’t a clue why she dislikes Colin. Usually, one cannot possibly get her to stop talking about why someone vexes her, but she has evaded speaking about the subject directly thus far.”

Spotting Colin walking toward the pair, Louis quickly stood up to greet the younger Bridgerton.

“Colin! Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

“The devil? Your sister hasn’t rubbed off on you, I hope,” answered Colin, not entirely amused as he shook your brother’s hand and sat down next to Benedict.

“Not at all, Bridgerton,” Louis laughed, dissipating the tension easily. “And I hope your hatred toward her is not extended toward me, too.”

“Is it that obvious?” asked Colin, slightly cringing that his ungentlemanly behavior was public knowledge.

Benedict snorted. “It is now that Lady Whistledown has reported on it. I don’t know how you could have possibly been so rude as to end up as the subject of the ton’s gossip sheet, but I fear for you once Mother gets her hands on today’s column.”

Colin sank in his seat in shame, embarrassed that his perfect reputation was crumbling because of you, of all people. He was supposed to be charming and easygoing, and he feared what would become of him if people started to dislike his character.

On the other hand, your little rivalry with him would barely have any effect on you. You were strikingly beautiful and exceptionally smart, not to mention exceedingly worldly. And even if you didn’t have all those things in your favor, your dowry was large enough that any man would be stupid not to at least consider you for marriage.

“Not to worry,” assured Louis. “I am sure your rivalry will be coming to a close sooner rather than later. It’s only a matter of time before Barlow proposes and she’ll be out of your hair. And mine.”

Colin tensed. “Pardon?”

“Y/N is about three seconds away from being married off, so she won’t have nearly as much time to dedicate to your rivalry,” explained Louis.

“Oh,” Colin cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Why do you say that? Has she said anything?”

Benedict set his drink down, shooting Colin a curious look. “She probably hasn’t had to. They’ve been courting for a month. If anything, it would be out of the ordinary if he didn’t propose.”

Louis nodded in agreement, blissfully oblivious to Colin’s mounting panic.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” conceded Colin. “I just thought–”

He paused. After a beat, he shook his head. “But, really? Marriage? It seems so sudden,” Colin said, stumbling over his words, a growing panic in his voice slowly turning to inexplicable anger.

“I don’t know if I would use the word sudden… Why? Did you want to marry her?” teased Louis, laughing at what seemed to be an outlandish suggestion. Then, spotting his brother-in-law, Edward Bexley, by the door, he downed his drink and stood up. “A pleasure speaking with you gentlemen, but I must greet Bexley.”

The Bridgerton boys said goodbye, but before Colin had the chance to get away, Benedict turned to his brother accusingly.

“I know Louis was joking, but do you actually want to marry her?” he asked, concerned. “You’ve been acting all out of sorts.”

“What? No,” scoffed Colin. “Not in a million years.” Then, realizing he had to explain his outrage at the prospect of you getting married, he added, “I’m just surprised anyone would consider marrying her, is all.”

“Colin,” scolded Benedict. “Have some decorum. Even if that were true, you are still a Bridgerton. Please behave like one.”

Colin’s face turned hot in shame. “You’re right; I apologize. I think I need some air,” he finally strangled out, standing up and practically sprinting toward the courtyard, his practically full drink long forgotten.

Once Colin felt the fresh air on his face, he let out a deep sigh and unclenched his fists. You getting married was supposed to be a good thing. The only person in the ton who didn’t like him would finally be gone and he could return to being the best-liked among his siblings.

It wasn’t like he didn’t know you would end up marrying someone else. It was basically the only reason you had come to England. Besides, he saw you with Arthur at every event you attended. Why was he so upset now? Why was he surprised at all?

Rubbing his temples, Colin started pacing in the courtyard. It must have been lingering resentment toward you, he reasoned. There was no other explanation. Colin couldn’t shake the way you and the duke so easily fell into flirtatious banter while he received only cold stares and snippy comments. It was infuriating that you took Lord Barlow and his intent to marry you so seriously while you barely spared Colin a second glance when he asked you to dance for the first time.

He still remembered watching you in Hyde Park the first time you spoke with Arthur, all giggly and flirtatious while you promenaded. Exactly the opposite of how you had been with him. What would it have taken for you to look at Colin with even a fraction of the fondness with which you looked at Lord Barlow?

Then, Colin was struck by a sobering thought. Perhaps you knew that, deep down, he lacked any substance. Perhaps you were not fooled by his charismatic front and could see that he could offer you nothing.

As a third son, Colin could scarcely boast the same riches or claim to land as the duke. But he could have loved you. And he would have taken care of you. If only he had made more of an effort with you, he chastised himself. Then he might find himself in the position of doing something of actual importance for the first time in his life.

But his need for approval had gotten in the way. And what good that had done him. You were about to get everything you wanted and marry a duke, and he was left with nothing but a bruised ego.

---

As soon as Charlotte saw Colin entering the ballroom she sighed and rolled her eyes. Now that she was the oldest Montclair sibling left in England, she was in charge of making sure you and Colin didn’t make a scene at every single event you attended.

Usually, it was Louis who needed scolding, mischievous as he was. Charlotte had no idea why you decided to be the difficult one this season. All she knew was that Colin had the unique ability to work you up until you were engaged in a yelling match, and it was her job to mitigate this to the best of her abilities.

Charlotte, already facing you, leaned in close to your ear. “Sois gentille, s’il te plaît. T’es une dame es tu dois te comporter comme telle,” she murmured (Be nice, please. You're a lady, and you should act like one).

Immediately realizing that Colin had arrived, you crossed your arms. “Mais Charlotte, il est trop désagréable. Il me soûle tellement !” you whined softly (But Charlotte, he’s so unpleasant. He gets on my nerves so much!).

Charlotte scoffed in disbelief at your childish demeanor. “Et toi ? Tu penses que t’es plus agréable ? Vraiment ?” (And you? You think you’re more pleasant? Really?)

You knew she had a point, but you couldn’t help the annoyed huff that escaped your lips before you turned around, choosing to face the dance floor instead.

Violet Bridgerton was hosting a ball tonight, and it seemed like every member of the ton had made an appearance. Your mother had nearly killed you when you told her you had a throbbing headache, not accepting any excuses for missing the most important ball of the season.

Eventually, you compromised and promised to stay for a dance with Lord Barlow and a quick greeting to the Bridgertons. You were already eyeing the exit longingly, itching to retreat to your blissfully dark and quiet room. Just a quick turn around the ballroom and you would be free, you lamented.

Your stomach churned with a mixture of anticipation and dread as you thought of seeing Lord Barlow. While the prospect of a proposal from him should have filled you with excitement, a throbbing headache dampened your spirits and left you feeling less than enthusiastic about the impending moment.

A proposal from a titled gentleman was what you had been working toward your whole life, and you would have liked to feel well for it. Though you liked Arthur, and the two of you got along well, you could only hope that he wasn’t planning on proposing tonight.

You heard footsteps coming in your direction, and you turned to see Eloise, Benedict, and Colin walking over to you and your sister.

“Y/N! And Charlotte!” Eloise exclaimed loudly upon seeing you.

You grimaced; the pain caused by her voice overpowering the joy you felt upon seeing her.

“Hello Eloise!" your sister greeted warmly. "Y/N has a headache, so she's only staying for a short while," she explained.

“Hello, El,” you grinned, rubbing your temples with one hand and squeezing Eloise’s arm with the other.

“And Benedict, what a surprise!” you exclaimed, turning to greet the older Bridgerton.

“Y/N! A good surprise, I hope. It has been quite some time, hasn’t it?” responded Benedict, smiling at you and squeezing your arm.

Your gaze shifted to Colin, who was standing next to his brother, and you tensed, already dreading the argument–or four–you would inevitably have with him tonight. You barely had the energy to stand straight tonight; you couldn’t fathom having to hold your own against Colin Bridgerton.

Eloise, sensing the mounting hostility, sighed deeply. “It’s best to leave them to it for a bit and let them get it out of their system,” she said, guiding Charlotte and Benedict away from you.

Before Charlotte turned around, she looked back at you suspiciously. She decided you were already suffering enough from your headache and chose to leave you be, but not before raising her eyebrows at you in warning.

Clearing his throat, Colin nodded in your direction, “Lady Montclair.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” you nodded back, much too tired to throw the first verbal punch of the night.

But as always, Colin seemed to have the unending desire to vex you. Seeing the Duke walking up to you from across the room and feeling the anger rise in his chest, he looked you up and down, searching for anything to lash out about.

“Lovely necklace you’re wearing. It completely washes out the color of your eyes,” he commented quietly, careful that no one else would hear.

Colin preferred to keep your quarrels private, especially after he knew Lady Whistledown had taken note of the tension between you. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want the rest of the ton knowing that you didn’t like him – it was too late for that, he reminded himself. These moments between you, although they often resulted in hurled insults and verbal attacks, felt oddly intimate to him. Despite the animosity, they were your private interludes, and he didn’t want to share them with anyone else.

You, oblivious to Lord Barlow, or anyone else for that matter, clutched your necklace, slightly embarrassed that he had noticed. It was true: the jewels did not match your eyes, and the neckpiece was so flashy that you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was making your headache worse. But your mother had insisted you wear it tonight anyway.

“I’m surprised you can look up from my neck long enough to notice the necklace’s effect on my eyes,” you countered.

Colin turned slightly red, clasping his hands in front of him. He was surprised too, to be honest. But you didn’t need to know that.

Before Colin could respond, the Duke walked up to you to greet you by placing a hand on your arm.

“Good evening, Y/N."

“Good evening, Arthur,” you smiled at him, headache momentarily forgotten.

Colin balked. You were on a first-name basis with the Duke already? He felt utterly foolish for not realizing that you were, as Lady Whistledown had said, only days away from receiving a proposal.

“I see you’re wearing the necklace I got you,” Lord Barlow commented, pleased. “It does wonders for your complexion.”

“Oh, yes,” you said weakly. “My sincerest gratitude for the gift.”

You could practically feel Colin smirking next to you, and you bit your lip to keep from snapping at him. You felt an unpleasant mixture of anger at Colin’s triumph and embarrassment that he knew that the unflattering necklace had been a gift from your suitor.

Lord Barlow brushed off your thanks. “A dance, my Lady?” he offered his hand.

“I’d be delighted,” you said gratefully, placing your hand in his. Anything to get away from Colin right now.

You had danced with Arthur enough times that you were comfortable with him, and you found yourself enjoying moving to the music as Lord Barlow held you close.

As he spun you around, he leaned down close to your ear, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps.

“You look particularly fetching tonight, Y/N. Perhaps we might retreat to the gardens later tonight to speak some more,” he whispered.

Your eyes widened. Was he asking you to go outside for… unladylike reasons? Or was he implying he was going to propose? Perhaps both? Whatever the reason, tonight was not the night.

“I’m afraid not, Arthur,” you lamented. “I’ve got a splitting headache and will be heading home soon after our dance.”

“Very well,” he said with a clipped tone, leading you away from the dance floor now that the music had stopped. “Another time, then.”

“Certainly,” you replied, nervous that you had upset him.

Kissing the back of your hand dutifully, he smiled. “I hope tomorrow you will be in better spirits. I will be at the races, and it would be a shame not to see you there.”

Before you could respond, he had turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Colin watched as you said goodbye to his mother, hugging her tightly. He felt his heart clench. You really were the picture of grace when you weren’t around him. But it was far too late to dwell on that.

He turned around to leave the ballroom in search of a strong drink as soon as he saw you leave through the main entrance. Now that you were gone, he saw no reason to stay. He didn’t particularly enjoy balls, even if this one was being hosted in his home, and he knew he would only grow bored now that you weren’t present to trade insults with.

Ever the dutiful son, Colin walked up to Violet Bridgerton to excuse himself before he left.

“Leaving so soon? I thought you might be more likely to stay now that Y/N is gone,” she teased.

Colin laughed and shook his head. “I'm afraid not.”

“It’s a shame you don’t care for her,” she tsked.

Eyes widening, Colin cleared his throat and tried to seem casual. “Why do you say that?”

Had you said something just now? Were you having second thoughts about the Duke?

“Because I’d love to have the Montclairs as part of the family, of course. Unfortunately, Y/N is as good as married. Perhaps we can try again with Louis,” she mused. “Eloise is bound to come around to marriage at some point.”

Colin laughed weakly, not trusting himself to say anything, and gave his mother one last squeeze as he headed out to the hallway.

Finally out of the ballroom, Colin headed to the Bridgertons’ private courtyard so he could gaze at the stars, a habit he developed during his travels to guide him through rough waters that he couldn’t seem to shake even now that he was home.

He could have taken a more direct route, but he wanted to avoid any mingling party-goers, already exhausted from the night. Colin was quite enjoying the feeling of navigating through his familiar home, realizing that he hadn't spent more than a few months in England in years.

Finally, after a few minutes of solitude, he reached the door farthest from the ballroom that led to the courtyard,

However, when he was halfway to the exit, he spotted two figures there already, partially obscured by the curtain in front of the door. He could barely make out two voices and a very flirtatious giggle. Rolling his eyes, Colin started backing away, not wanting to interrupt what he assumed to be Benedict and some very unlucky lady having an intimate moment.

It was certainly a bold choice on Benedict’s part. The courtyard was not so private that it was hidden away from view completely, and anyone in the ballroom could have seen them. But Colin was not in the business of getting involved in his brother’s affairs.

As he turned away, Colin heard a muffled, “Ah, I see you like to play coy…”

Well, that was certainly not Benedict. In fact, it sounded quite a bit like…Arthur Barlow?

It couldn’t be, Colin shook his head aggressively. It couldn’t.

Colin felt anger rising in his chest, his lips turned down into a deep frown. He started back toward the courtyard.

Arthur was courting you. And he had just seen you go home. He couldn’t possibly be outside with someone else, could he?

Could he?

Upon hearing a squeal, Colin reached out and pulled back the curtains slightly, only to be met with the sight of the duke’s lips on Miss Barrington’s.

Colin dropped his hand in shock, letting the curtain obscure his view once again. He could barely believe what he was seeing. Your suitor was kissing another woman. Her hands were in his hair and he was tugging at the front of her dress, rushing to untie the bows on her gown.

Colin was frozen in shock. Is this something the duke did regularly? Did this mean that you and Lord Barlow kissed? An unpleasant image appeared in Colin’s mind, but he shook it away. He needed to focus on the problem at hand.

He had caught your almost-future-husband with someone else on the balcony, and you most likely had no clue. The duke’s actions had the potential to ruin multiple futures, and Colin felt his breathing quicken as he thought of how this could affect you.

Peeking through the window once more to ensure that he really was seeing the Duke and Miss Barrington, Colin frowned deeply. He shifted his gaze to the window looking into the ballroom across the courtyard, and was satisfied when he didn’t see anyone spying on the couple. At least there was that.

Rushing back through the twisting hallways, Colin ran to speak with his mother before anyone else could catch a glimpse of what was going on outside the Bridgerton home.

Winded as he reached his mother, Colin grabbed her by the elbow and led her outside into the hallway.

“Need… to… speak,” he panted out.

“Colin? What on earth–? I thought you had left the ball,” came Violet’s shocked response as she placed a concerned hand on her son’s shoulder.

Colin nodded aggressively. “Lord Barlow… with Miss Barrington… on the balcony kissing,” he said, still trying to catch his breath.

“Oh!” Violet gasped, horrified. “Are you certain?”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Obviously, Mother. What do I do? Should I go stop them? I thought he was going to propose to Lady Montclair. But Miss Barrington will be ruined if anyone finds out.”

His mother thought for a moment. “Has anyone seen them yet?”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

“That is the best we can hope for in this situation. I will go and stop them at once; hopefully, no one will have noticed their absence,” indicated Violet, annoyed that people felt the need to act like this at her ball in her home.

“And what of Lady Montclair?” pressed Colin. Surely you were the most important person in this situation, no?

"We ought to inform her in private, let her decide her course," she suggested, her voice low with a hint of disdain.

Colin frowned, frustrated that the duke’s careless actions could result in you losing a suitor.

Violet continued, "There's no need to create a spectacle, after all. A scandal of a duke’s infidelity won't bode well for anyone involved. With any luck, it went unnoticed, and Y/N can deliberate in peace. I highly doubt Lord Barlow will be forthcoming with the truth."

Just then, the Bridgertons heard the ballroom door slam open as a chorus of giggles and whispers filled the hallway.

Colin cast a wary glance towards the departing crowd. "I fear discretion is no longer an option."

The whispers seemed to echo, disturbingly audible.

"Lord Barlow? The Duke?"

"I had heard he was set on Lady Montclair..."

"Such a shame. They appeared quite suited. What will become of her now that she's lost a Duke? I couldn't bear the humiliation."

"And Miss Barrington?"

"It seems the Duke's actions have ruined more than one woman this evening…”

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