#lady Whistledown Society Papers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladysharmaa · 1 month

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?

(gif 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

3K notes · View notes

colandpen · 2 months

Text

'' Mr. Colin Bridgerton once again tops the list of desirable husbands, even though he is not yet back from his recent trip abroad. He has no title, that is true, but he is in abundant possession of looks, fortune, and, as anyone who has ever spent even a minute in London knows, charm. ''

LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS

#polin #colin bridgerton #luke newton #bridgerton #my pretty boy #i love you

496 notes · View notes

writeroutoftime · 1 year

Text

women run the world

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (requested by: anon)

summary: after comforting eloise about a woman's lack to education, anthony makes a less than ideal comment that does not end well for him

warnings: none besides anthony's stupidity

words: 1.1k

a/n: another request from forever ago, but it is finally seeing the light of day! anyway, we love anthony, but sometimes he doesn't always think before he speaks, also this GIF just made me laugh and I thought it fit well with this fic lol. this was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you that you enjoy it! as always, please let me know what you think, and have a fantastic day!

oOoOo

Dearest Reader, Even within the most ideal love match our society has to offer, there is always the possibility for miscommunication - as was the case between one Lord and Lady y/n Bridgerton. However, this author has discovered that Lady Bridgerton has set the record straight for Lord Bridgerton, and for that, she has my sincerest gratitude. Lady Whistledown's Society Papers

Eloise slammed her book shut, groaning in frustration, which pulled you and the other Bridgertons from their own little bubbles.

"Whatever is the matter, Eloise?" Daphne asked calmly, looking up from her newest arrangement on the harpsicord.

With a dry chuckle, Eloise opened her mouth. "Why is it that the men in this country are afforded every opportunity for education, yet so many of them squander it when there are countless women dying for a chance to continue their education? I mean, what do I have to do for a chance to go to university?" she ranted.

"We live in a time where those in charge have small minds, and are fearful of what women could do if given the chance to achieve more." you offered gently, knowing the reasoning would do little to soothe her anger. "I happen to think you would thrive at university, and I know you could show everyone that us women are just as equal as men."

Before Eloise could offer her thanks, an almost indistinguishable chuckle came from the chair next to you. Your head immediately whipped to the side, eyes directly on your husband as he continued to read his newspaper.

"Was there something amusing that I said?" you dared to ask, voice low and spine stiff.

Anthony folded his paper before looking back at you. A whisper of a smile still on his lips. "I simply find the thought of women at university alongside men an outlandish thought." he began. "Do you not think women would already be allowed in if there was this equality between the sexes? I mean there are distinct physical differences, so it goes to reason that there would be differences in other areas as well."

The moment the words left his lips, the entire room went silent, and all seven other heads in the room snapped towards Anthony in varying degrees of shock. The women looked appalled at the words their brother had spoken while Colin and Benedict (and even young Gregory) shook their heads, knowing Anthony was in for it.

It was no secret to the Bridgerton family, nor to the ton, that you held rather "revolutionary" ideas about women's equality and place in society. At least, you thought the Bridgerton family knew, but it seemed as though your husband did not fall into that category.

Jaw tense, you took a deep breath, trying to find the apprioate words for this situation. "Anthony, is that how you truly feel?"

It was as though Anthony sensed he had misspoken, but was unable to stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I-I suppose so."

The anger melted off your features only to be replaced with an eerily calm look as you spared your husband a glance. "You're right, my dear, there are distinct differences between our two sexes. In fact, you have just proven mine and Eloise's point that our society is ruled by those with small minds. If you could only see that the world around us would not function without the women in your life. The fact that you seemingly do not see that makes me question who it is I married. Excuse me." you finished before you stormed out of the drawing room and towards your bedroom.

Silence permeated the drawing room, and no one knew what to say next. Anthony sat frozen in his chair, staring at the spot you had just been in, unsure how the conversation had spiraled in such a direction. Unsurprisingly, it was Eloise who spoke first, directed towards her eldest brother.

"Truly unbelievable, brother. Are you going to continue to sit there or are you going to go after your wife?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

To his credit, Anthony had the decency to look sheepish as he slid off his chair and went to go after you, leaving his younger siblings laughing at his expense. Though none of them followed either of you, they could only imagine the scolding her would receive.

Anthony hesitantly knocked on your bedroom door, pushing it open slightly after a few moments with no response. "y/n?" Anthony prodded, peaking into the shared room. His eyes fell on your curled up figure on top the bed and he sighed heavily. "My love, I wish to apologize."

"Apologize for what? For what you said or because you made me angry?" you tested, wanting Anthony's apology to be genuine and for the right reasons not because he was told to.

Your husband looked frozen in shock, and you watched as the gears in his mind worked overtime to figure out the correct answer. "Uhhh, both?" he finally answered, though it came out more like a question.

With a huff, you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. "Is that what you truly believe, Atnhony? Because if it is I don't know how this marriage is going to succeed. I thought you knew what I believed when we agreed to be together. Or was that all just to placate me in order to wed and bed me?"

"No, no, that's not true at all!" Anthony rushed to get out, and in an instant he was kneeling by your side. "y/n, I know my words were pigheadish and utterly inappropriate. I suppose I sometimes let the opinions of the ton guide my thoughts, even when they are wrong." he began, quickly holding up a hand before you could interject.

"I know, I know that does not excuse my actions. I want you to know that I fully support you in all possible ways, and I love you for your mind." he told you, offering a gently kiss to your knuckles. "You may scold me as long as you see fit, but please know I am by your side in all manners."

You were silent for a few moments, analyzing and decoding Anthony's confession. But you knew by the way his eyes soften and looked up at you with love and adoration he was completely sincere. Of course, that doesn't mean you still couldn't have your fun.

"Good." you simply said, leaning down to hover mere inches from Anthony's lips. He gratefully moved to close the gap, but you placed your hand on his chest to stop him. "Because women run the world, Lord Bridgerton. And don't you forget it." you whispered before you pushed away and left the room, leaving Anthony panting with a shiver down his spine as he watched your retreating form.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #rita writes

2K notes · View notes

jimblejamblewritings · 14 days

Text

love letters and second sons | part 3.

Summary: The princess is finally ready to debut in society. But before she does, she decides to disguise herself and see the true faces of the ton.

Warnings for the Series: light sexism in line with the times, light classism in line with the times, mental health stigma, shitty doctor care, smut, suicide attempt (will get it's own warning when the time comes),

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry this part is so short

You stood in the drawing room of Kew, waiting for your mother and father to arrive in just a few minutes. Instead of a huge breakfast in the dining room, you opted for a light tea in a more casual setting. Honestly, you were mildly annoyed. The only thing you wanted to do after people returned from their church services, that they never attended weekly because no one cared about the priest admonishing them, was go to the Featherington house. You were shocked that Colin was calling Marina. But friends didn’t always fall in love.

It wasn’t like Penelope was upset about it. She didn’t even like Colin. But like your mother you wanted to matchmake someone and figured they would have been the easiest couple to form. But you wanted to spy on Colin and Marina under the guise of aiding in chaperoning with Penelope since Lady Featherington was running around between girls and their callers.

Your thoughts about who to matchmake were interrupted by your parents arriving. You poured tea for them. Breakfast was a bit awkward in a way it had never been before. George and Charlotte were assessing you intently. You got in two bites of bread when the physician entered. Your parents continued their conversation while you were being checked over. The physician made little comments for the nurse to jot down. Overall, you were fine. That seemed to satisfy your mother and father. There was a glint in Charlotte’s eye.

“The King an— Everyone, out.”

The room, aside from Brimsley and Reynolds, cleared out.

“George and I have decided that we’d like to give you an opportunity. There is an opera coming up. Agatha and her friend Violet will be attending. You may come with. You will meet them before the show starts and then we will stay to watch the entire performance. Afterwards, you must go home. No exceptions.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I wo—”

“Calm yourself. You know getting excited makes your condition worse.”

You sat back down, trying not to bounce up and down. She was right after all. Being overly excited made you sweaty or a little hot for some reason and being too warm made you start to see things or think strange things. When your parents left, you ran to your wardrobe.

The dresses needed to be fancy but not too fancy since it was a sit-down event. You picked a yellow dress with short puff sleeves. It ended just above the bottom of your ankle — very stylish for the times. Pairing it with light blue gloves that went past your elbows, you added a light blue skirt piece that made a small train.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness,” Brimsley said.

“I have to agree.” Both Pandora and Reynolds looked at each other, shocked they said the same thing at the same time.

“Thank you. Shall we go? Reynolds, would you like to be dropped at home to see Father?”

“That would be nice, Your Highness, thank you.”

“Then let us leave now.”

You rolled your eyes in the carriage, setting down your copy of Lady Whistledown’s society papers.

“It is utterly ridiculous. She is a disgraceful woman. I tolerated the gossip but speculating death, wishing death on my father is something I cannot accept nor tolerate. How dare she?”

Your confidantes agreed with you and shared their own opinions on society and gossip.

Whispers started to spread throughout the opera house while people still rolled in and music still played. How could it not? The youngest royal child was actually outside. There was no opening for the mouth on this particular mask which meant this was not your introduction. You might speak to a lucky few but there would be no speeches or announcements tonight. People couldn’t hear you from far away with ceramic blocking your mouth. You stuck close to your mother while everyone tried to look at you or talk to you.

“Lady Bridgerton!” Lady Danbury yelled from across the room. “Do join us.”

Violet tried to conceal her wide eyes and smile as she grabbed Daphne’s arm before her daughter could walk away from whoever she was trying to avoid. She made eye contact with you. You watched as she rather frantically waved over someone else.

Anthony — or should you call him the viscount for the evening — began walking towards you, bowing to the Queen before turning his full attention to you. You let him take your hand and give it a kiss. A kiss that you noted was considerably longer by a minimum of five seconds than when he kissed you as Miss Keaton. So it was definitely Violet trying to set up the princess with her son and not the valet with Colin.

You let Anthony talk your ear off about his responsibilities as the eldest and his horseback riding hobby, notably leaving out the details of riding through the mud and staying out there for hours. He was considerably more boring when trying to impress a woman. Ignoring the whispers that permeated through the room, you tried to focus on your friend.

You motioned for him to lean in so you could speak into his ear and actually let him hear you rather than sounding muffled, practically silencing the hall. Anthony laughed at the joke you told which caused both of your mothers to turn around. This was the Anthony you liked better. Violet gasped when you placed a hand on her son’s arm — your mother raised her eyebrows as she and Lady Danbury gave you a slight nod of approval.

“Will you escort me to our box, Viscount Bridgerton?”

“Please, call me Anthony.”

“Lord Bridgerton, that is most forward when we don’t know each other.”

“I was told royals didn’t obey our rules of upper society.”

The two of you started up the stairs, away from prying eyes, that led up to the Queen’s box.

“Anthony?”

“Now we speak of first names.”

You rolled your eyes. “I will allow you to call me by mine, just this single occasion. Anthony, where are the other Bridgerton siblings? If I remember correctly, you have seven of them? Miss Bridgerton is here but I do not see the others.”

“Truthfully, they were very bored by the show being put on tonight. We’ve seen it before. I’m merely here to aid my mother and chaperone my sister. Have you seen this show before?”

“If I have then it was when I was very little.”

“Well, then please do not let my words discourage your enjoyment of the performance. Here is your stop.” He extended a hand to help you up the short steps into the box. “Y/N, thank you for the flowers from the other day. Truly, they are appreciated.”

You studied his face for a moment. He really was handsome. His hair didn’t cover as much of his face this evening as it usually did whenever you visited. The stark colors of his black and white attire made his features stand out.

“I am glad you liked them. Now is where I leave you for the evening, Lord Bridgerton. I shall hope to see you some more once I formally introduce myself to society.”

“I will look forward to that day. Goodbye… Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Anthony.”

Taking your seat, you waited for your mother and her friends to come to the box. The smile on Charlotte’s face grew wider the closer she got to the box. She was going on about Anthony. Obviously, you were going to have many suitors to entertain but a viscount was certainly a very important suitor and only made your prospects have to be better in their courting.

“Excuse me, I’m going to the privy,” you told your mother when you felt your throat start to tighten up.

She just gave you a nod. The shadows of the opera house were closing in on you and you couldn’t calm your mind down. You needed to be in a place with more candlelight. You jumped at the sound of several dogs barking from the shadows. There were big creatures. You had never seen them but you could tell from their bark and — when you got too close — how their breath fanned across the top of your head. Hastening your steps to get away, you ran straight into Violet.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. “I decided to take a walk after going to the privy and wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The woman in front of you smiled. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold to ask? Would you like to attend a dinner we are hosting? The Duke of Hastings will be there. I understand that you aren’t yet introduced but it woul—”

“I shall love to come. Just tell me when.”

“Saturday evening.”

“Perfect.”

Saturday evening couldn’t have come any sooner. You were tired of counting the floor titles in the bathroom and needed to leave. For the sake of your valets, you hadn’t snuck out at all that weel.

You turned to your valets. “I will be back in a few hours.”

“Please be careful,” Pandora said.

“I always am.”

“Not really.” You heard someone mutter inside the carriage.

Marshall escorted you in. You had to stop yourself from smiling, remembering that he had no clue who you were. It was almost alarming when everyone — including the Duke of Hastings — stood when you entered the dining room. You weren’t sure why you didn't expect it. Perhaps you were already too used to your disguise as Miss Keaton. You gave a slight curtsey.

“I apologize for being late.”

“No. You aren’t late at all,” Anthony said as he started to gather his plate.

You shook your head. “Oh, stay where you are.”

“But, Your Highness.”

“I can afford to not be the head of a table for a single night.” You looked around. “I shall sit across from Miss Daphne Bridgerton.”

“She knows your name!” Hyacinth’s voice rose three octaves. You figured you could make her night by having the princess knowledgeable about the Bridgertons.

Colin and Benedict scrambled to pull their chairs apart so you could sit in between them. You waved Marshall away, plating your own food. You could feel the silence of the dinner table as you did things the normal way you would at Kew or Buckingham House.

They also might have been preoccupied with your disguise rather than the way you dragged your own spoon through the mashed potatoes. It was natural. Your siblings had told you all about how people would scrutinize the different masks you would wear. They'd try their hardest to get a real glimpse of your face.

The eye holes had sheer coverings on them that made it hard to see your true eye color. And when it came to your mouth. Your maids had taken their painstakingly slow time making sure the makeup covered up an unique qualities around your mouth and changed the shape of your lips to a shape unrecognizable to you at all. Hungry mamas with daughters they'd want to be in your court or sons they'd want to court you are able to sniff out something like the tiniest wrinkle by the bottom of your lip and use that to scout the whole ton until they found you without the mask on.

It happened to Edward countless of times and was the reason for all the rules regarding the masks in the first place. You looked up after cutting your chicken.

“What were you all talking about before I arrived?”

“Lady Whistledown,” Eloise cut in before anyone could stop her.

“Really? Tell me more.”

“You want to know?”

“Of course I do. I must know her identity. However I must say I will be having a private word with her about not publishing speculation of my father’s death.”

“How is he?”

“Oh, he’s perfectly fine. No matter, though, I need to know every thought you have on our mysterious Lady Whistledown?”

You enjoyed the bickering between everyone. There wasn’t even a firm thought on what class Whistledown belonged to. In your opinion it had to have been an upper class woman. Only someone like that could have enough time on their hands and still survive day to day needs. You dipped your fork into the potatoes.

“Viscount Bridgerton, I must say that any correspondence between the royals and the Bridgerton House should be sent to Kew. I stay there now.”

“Correspondence?” Violet asked, trying to suppress the excitement in her voice.

“Yes. I shall need to understand the ton more than what I have studied. Don’t bother putting them together. I much prefer to read individual letters. Now, I have engagements already arranged for tomorrow so I must be on my way. However, I would love to attend dinner again. Goodnight, Lady Bridgerton, Viscount, Bridgertons, Your Grace.”

Anthony stood up from the table. “Let me escort you to your carriage.”

“That would be much appreciated, Lord Bridgerton.”

My Dearest Ton and Wonderful United Kingdom,

I implore you all to remember that gossip, particularly baseless gossip, can be a dangerous thing. While we all are very entertained by Lady Whistledown, remember that you must discover the truth for yourself. I would hate to see lives ruined over entertainment.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Hanover

Dear Viscount Bridgerton,

The dinner at your house was very lovely. Your family seems to be a wonderful group of people. I am sorry for keeping my lady’s maid away for so long. She has been in Ireland, procuring plant seeds and fabrics for me. Please fret no more for she will be back soon. But I do have to say our correspondence might be limited to letters for a majority of our current time. Until I am introduced to society, it is not wise for me to constantly be out. I shall look forward to more times spent with the Bridgertons at a later date.

Yours Truly,

Princess Y/N Hanover

You finished signing the letter, handing it to Pandora to take to the press for copies to be made. Moving an entire printing house from Buckingham to Kew wasn’t exactly quick and easy but your staff had managed to do it in no time at all. For the time being, Kew was entirely self-sufficient.

“Please take the letters for the Bridgertons to their house after you have visited the press.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” “Brimsley, what is on the schedule after the physician leaves?”

“You wanted to ride horses and then prepare a bouquet for the ball tomorrow night to be delivered by one of us.”

“Yes, thank you. And after that?”

Reynolds looked at you and then his partner. You had just made the schedule no less than an hour ago. It didn’t seem normal for you to not know. Their eye contact didn’t waiver as they silently communicated to not say a word but just answer all your questions. You got up, moving to your wardrobe to get a petticoat for outside.

“Ah, yes, Brimsley. Are we preparing the bouquet tonight before or after the physici…an…”

Tears started to well up in your eyes as you realized you had asked the question already. Brimsley and Reynolds were a tad too slow. You were already in the wardrobe, trying to calm yourself down. Every time a sob left your mouth or you begged them not to tell your parents caused some pain in their hearts. Reynolds stopped Pandora from leaving, handing the letters to a different lady-in-waiting.

You looked up in the dark space when you heard the knocking. It was hard to ignore the dogs in the shadows just waiting to snap at you. But the dark stopped the heavens from coming in. It was always a compromise. And since the heavens confused your mind and blocked your memory, the dogs would have to wait.

“You can open it.”

Pandora stuck her head in, trying to prevent too much light from coming in. “You’re stronger than whatever you have, you know? It doesn’t matter. None of it does… Maybe you should show the planets and shadow dogs and other shadow creatures that they cannot control a princess. They do not control you.”

Reynolds sighed as he said a quick prayer to not be fired. “Maybe going to the ball would show the shadows that they cannot control you.”

You didn’t really have a choice. Pandora practically pulled you out of the closet and started making plans for tomorrow’s ball, including how to enjoy yourself but stay hidden.

(part 4)...

THIS FIC TAGLIST:

@fredsbetch @cherrylovers-world @chrystinaamanda @grassclippers @flyestvenustrap @spookystitchery @lovelyygirl8 @ben-has-arrived @tragically-hipp

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107 @i-have-no-life-charlie

#bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict fluff #benedict x reader

351 notes · View notes

dragon-kazansky · 22 hours

Text

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Twenty Two - The races

As the races were in the afternoon, you had accepted Violet's invitation to join her at her home. As she had sworn to look after you, you were sure she would be eager to hear of your caller.

She greets you with a smile as you enter the drawing room, calling for tea and ushering you to come sit down with her. She starts the conversation by telling you that Eloise was still being rather difficult and that Anthony had gone to call upon Miss Edwina.

You just hoped Edwina could handle Anthony. Though, from what you heard in Lady Whistledown, it was the sister he would have to worry about.

When Benedict steps into the drawing room, he is surprised to see you. He had not expected to see you, unaware his mother had invited you. Not that he should be surprised. Violet Bridgerton was fond of you. That much he did know.

"Good morning."

You look up and see him pass you with his sketchbook.

"Good morning."

Benedict slumps down in a chair opposite you and opens his book, sketching away. He doesn't look at you much. You choose to ignore his brief greeting and share your news with Violet.

"I had a caller this morning."

Violet sits up with excitement and reaches for your hand. "Who?"

"Lord Baxtor."

You don't notice the way Benedict stops his sketching to secretly listen. Violet looks beyond pleaded.

"I hear he has quite a fortune." Violet hums softly. "I believe he is quite studious, too."

"He will be escorting me at the races this afternoon. I am to meet him there." You smile brightly. Violet can tell you're excited.

"That is wonderful news, dear. Do you need anything?"

"Will you perhaps chaperone? Racing is not quite my mother's interest, and it would bring me great comfort to know someone I trust is near."

"Of course."

Benedict continues his sketching. He's not sure why it irked him so much to know you have a gentleman escorting you to the races. Why shouldn't you have a caller? It's what you wanted all along.

Penelope arrives in a cheerful yellow dress, as usual. It certainly brightens up the room. She offers you a smile before joining Eloise at the table. In Eloise's hands is the latest Whistledown paper.

"Is that a copy of Lady Whistledown?" Pen asks Eloise, pretending not to realise right away.

"It is."

"I thought we were done with her."

"Do not discourage her, Penelope," Violet chimes in. "If she has taken an interest in Lady Whistledown again, perhaps it means she's interested in what she had to say about the season's available gentlemen too."

"I cannot think of a cleverer way to say this, but no." Eloise sighs. "Her latest is not exactly the philosophical treatise on the rights of the fairer sex u was hoping for, but--"

"Come now, I do not think Lady Whistledown has changed her entire style of writing wince her last issue," Penelope says.

"Perhpad not. But perhaps she still can."

"Perhaps she does not want to. Perhaps she is quite content. And if she's even sparked your renewed interest, El, then perhaps whatever she is doing is working."

You smile at Penelope's passion.

"Yes, but she could do so much more," Eloise says. "I know I could convince her of it. If I were to find her this time."

"What you must find, my dear, is happiness," Violet chimes in. "Penelope, assist me here. Eloise could find that with someone, could she not?"

I believe she could. And not Lady Whistledown, but someone more like-- Colin."

"My brother?" Eloise looks at her friend confused.

"No, not Coli-- Colin!" Penelope stands up. You turned around to see Colin Bridgerton entering the room. You stand up, also.

"Glad to see things have not changed," he says.

You get up to greet him. "Hello!"

"Brother!"

"Colin!"

Benedict and Violet do the same as you.

"Could you set aside the latest family squabble and embrace me?" Colin teases. Eloise hugs her brother with a happy chuckle. Violet hugs him next. He then pulls you into a hug, too. You chuckle softly.

"I did not expect you to return so soon, dearest," Violet says to him, taking in the sight of her son.

"Well, I missed you all. What can I say?" He grins. You step back as he hugs his brother. As Benedict steps back, Colin looks at Penelope. She smiles at him.

Hyacinth and Gregory then enter the room and hug their brother, having missed him dearly.

"I must get you to the doctor post haste," Benedict says. "This strange, fizzy growth on your chin is no doubt some kind of disease."

You chuckle softly. Benedict smiles proudly. He likes it when you laugh.

"And you seem to have taken to the sun toom how peculiar," Francesca comments, coming up beside her brother.

"I think he looks distinguished," Penelope comments.

"And where, may I ask, is our intrepid viscount?" Colin asks.

"He is..."

Anthony appears right at that moment. You're surprised to see him.

"...back from courting already," Violet says, also surprised to see him.

"Colin! You are returned. Even better." Anthony greets his brother. "Family, I should like you all to ready yourselves for the races today. We will be attending, united as one."

Violet once again seems surprised, yet happily so.

You chuckle softly. "I best get home and change then. I shall see you all there, I hope." You look around. Anthony nods. Penelope does, too. You smile at her and pat her shoulder gently as you pass her.

You don't even glance at Benedict.

You arrive at the races and find Lord Baxtor waiting for you. He smiles as he offers you his arm, and you both head off to place bets on horses.

It's a beautiful sunny afternoon, and you were very much looking forward to your day out. Your mother trails behind you a ways as you walk with Baxtor.

Once the bets are placed, you walk through the crowds. It was certainly a busy day.

"I am hoping you're my lucky charm today," he says, smiling brightly.

"Oh? I'm honoured," you chuckle.

He looks at you with a grin. "It was certainly be a good sign for the future, no?"

"If we win?"

"Absolutely."

You chuckle again. "It's a lot of pressure relying on the horse."

"I think he shall pull through."

You find his confidence in the animal rather charming. If the horse were to be the deciding factor of this courtship, then you hoped it would pull through. Jonathan Baxtor certainly thought so.

As you stroll, you spot the Sharma sisters. Edwina is attached at the arm with a fine gentleman. Lumley, you believe his name to be. Kate catches your eye and you smile at her, she returns the gesture.

Kate is beautiful. She is wearing a dark blue dress with matching accessories in her hair and blue netted gloves on her hands.

Edwina is in all pink. She looks very pretty, too. Gentle.

"Friends of yours?" Baxtor asks.

"Not quite yet. I met them at Lady Danbury's soiree. I'm keen to know them, however. They seem like good people to know."

"Miss Edwina Sharma looks very pretty today."

"She does.

"Though my eye is still drawn to you," Baxtor smiles. You find yourself looking away with a blush. This man certainly knew what to say.

"Shall we find our seats?"

"A splendid idea."

You chuckle softly as he guides you along toward the track.

You're far too occupied to see Benedict watching from a distance. He was standing with his brothers. His blue eyes follow you until you're out of sight. Anthony nudges him, and Benedict snaps out of it.

"You're staring."

"No, I wasn't."

Anthony gives him a look, and Benedict sighs. He turns his eyes away and spots Mondrich approaching. He decides to greet him quickly to stop his brother from mentioning anything else.

You sit with Baxtor and talk quietly as people gather to find their seats. You watch the horses walk along the fence with their riders.

"Beautiful, are they not?"

"Yes, very."

"Do you ride?" He asks.

"Not very well. We don't have any horses." You admit that rather shyly.

"Fear not. I would be glad to teach you one day," he smiles. "That is, if you are interested."

"Very much."

As the Bridgerton family take their seats, Benedict's attention is drawn to a choice nearby. His eyes find you sitting a row below him off to the right. You're talking closely with Lord Baxtor.

Anthony has left their side to go meddle with the Sharma's, hoping to get close to Miss Edwina, and Colin does not care enough for his brother's brooding to shake him from it.

Benedict watches you from his seat in a slight huff. He should have asked you to come with him, but he hadn't even thought about it until it was too late.

Why should it matter so much who you come with? No. He can't deny it. He misses you. He misses your company. He wants his friend back by his side.

You laugh at something Baxtor says and Benedict has to look away. He can't stand watching any longer.

It isn't much longer until the bell tolls and the horses are off. You and Baxtor watch with excitement and eagerness as the horses run. You both cheer along with the crowd. He is amused by your excitement.

High Flyer crosses the finish line first and you cheer.

Benedict watches the way you grab onto Baxtor's arm in excitement. He immediately has to look away. Luckily, Eloise, who was beside him, is a fine distraction as she cheers in excitement, too.

If only he could feel as thrilled.

"She is pompous and arrogant and quite sure she knows best in every situation."

Benedict was fencing with his brothers when Anthony decided to moan about the eldest Sharma sister.

"She sounds like a terrible nuisance," Colin comments, having just spared with his brother. He gets into a stance to parry again with Anthony.

"Especially since you are the one who knows best in every situation," Benedict says, watching his brothers.

Anthony disarms Colin.

"And the victor of every match today," Colin points out.

"Less talking, more fencing, Brother."

Colin picks up the sword and gives it to Benedict, who gets into position. "Good luck," he sighs.

"Ready?" Benedict asks.

Anthony raises the sword, and they begin.

"Do you know why I win every time?" Anthont asks.

"Because every time you lose, you claim we cheated."

Anthony wins.

"Because I know my duties. What my purposes are and how to obtain them. Which I will do when I make Miss Edwina my viscountess."

Benedict loses again.

Not even his anger at the image of you and Baxtor was enough to fuel his duel with Anthony.

"Miss Edwina and I are well-suited. She is a lovely young lady. She wishes for children. She'll make a perfectly agreeable wife."

"What he means to say is that he has already dismissed every other young lady in town," Benedict states.

"You are one to talk."

"Whatever do you mean?" Benedict asks.

"The one woman in all of London you hold so dear, and yet you are not courting her."

Benedict swings his sword. "She is not mine to court."

"Is that jealousy, I sense?" Anthony teases.

"No."

Benedict swings, but Anthony outsmarts him. "Is she not of interest to you? Or perhaps you are simply not ready."

"Hush, Brother. It is not of your concern."

Benedict loses again.

"You take too much upon yourself, brother." Colin says, watching Anthony. "Perhaps your life might be easier if you persued someone with a less disagreeable sister."

"Why should I be the one to admit defeat?" Anthony asks him, getting rather worked up. "Regardless of which young lady I have chosen to pursue, there would have always been some obstinate father or meddlesome aunt into the picture. I shall certainly not let some sister, especially one younger than me, keep me from getting what it is I want."

"Whom you want, you mean?" Benedict swings again getting Anthony on the arm.

"Is this still a friendly match, or do we need to find armor?" Colin asks.

"That is what you don't understand, Brother. Benedict honours me by holding nothing back. As I now honour him."

They get into position again and then fence once more. Anthony knocks Benedict onto his backside.

"What honour."

Anthony helps Benedict up onto his feet. He gives him a knowing look, but Benedict shakes his head. Anthony simply chuckles.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for the bracing exertion. Now, it is time for me to secure my final victory for the day. Wish me luck."

Anthony walks off. The two brothers watch him go.

They spar between themselves.

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #Bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes #season two

186 notes · View notes

quotergirl19 · 7 days

Text

IMO Colin hates Lady Whistledown because he thinks she’s just a gossip who enjoys outing and hurting people for no reason other than to sell her papers.

I think once he realizes that Penelope used Whistledown to protect people she cares about (like Daphne from Nigel Berbrooke, Colin from a fraud of a marriage with Marina, Eloise from lying to the Queen), he won’t necessarily love Whistledown, but his hatred will lessen to a strong dislike/disapproval.

Colin understands that desperate times call for desperate measures. He himself has been incredibly impulsive in his behavior. The scene he caused with Penelope was extremely scandalous and not only ruined Penelope’s relationship, it was disrespectful towards a titled gentleman. Lord Debling could have called him out but was too much of a gentleman to do so because he realized that he had gotten in the middle of two friends who had deeper feelings for each other. And don’t get me started with how Colin was absolutely seen running after Penelope’s carriage before getting in and riding off alone with her unchaperoned, and how the driver/footmen absolutely heard him and Penelope before arriving at Bridgerton house.

Penelope herself has struggled with continuing LW, because she doesn’t like ruining people’s lives but she’s a writer and her mother would never have permitted her to publish anything for fear of what society would think. Writing in secret was the only way she could find out what people really thought of her writing and I think Colin will absolutely understand that because he is also an aspiring writer. It’s also important that he has witnessed her struggles in society this season because it will be clearer than ever to him how the only praise, sense of power or respect Penelope has ever experienced has been through Whistledown so as much as she doesn’t like the hurtful side of her column, it’s been hard for her to let go of it because it’s truly the only thing in her life that’s just hers and gives her any sense of being appreciated, admired and respected.

I think being honest about the complexity of the situation is what will get Polin past the secrecy and to a place where they are truly open and honest with each other. That is when their relationship will become unbreakable.

#quotergirl random thoughts #bridgerton #polin #colin x penelope #penelope featherington #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #Bridgerton season 3 speculation

187 notes · View notes

cherryclxud · 5 days

Text

Catch me if you can, Lord Holmes pt1

(ENOLA HOLMES)!Sherlock x BRIDGERTON!reader

-----------------------------------------------------------

Description: a writer by the name of Marcus Bradford has been writing a weekly updated crime story that appears in the newspaper and it is the talk of the ton. sherlock is then pulled in to uncover the mystery of the story of the abominable bride. will he be able to find the writer of this story who yet remains hidden from seemingly all of society?

word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

read below for credits

------------------------------------------------------------

MARCUS BRADFORD WAS AN EXTRAORDINARY WRITER. He wrote books of fantasy, romance, and tragedies. But anyone who has read Bradford’s works will tell you his prized works were that of the thrilling crimes series that would be posted on the weekly newspapers on page 4. Yes, no one could deny that this was the reason he was the talk of the ton. Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, Marcus Bradford’s words made it into every household in London, whispers about the crimes written were on the tongue of the fanatics every passing day,

“Did you read what this man has written?”

“Did you see where he left this week's edition off?”

“How can the bride return when she so clearly shot her brains out in front of a whole street?”

“She returned and killed her husband then was found back at the morgue?”

It was a story where no one could see a true way to solve it, and so it kept everyone on the edge of their seat, that is…everyone but one.

Sherlock Holmes hated Marcus Bradford, and he hated his work. He was never a fan of fiction since fiction wasn't real and wasn't deducible, therefore he was never actually interested in anything this man was writing, but when all the clients asking for help seemingly came to him complaining that they wanted him to solve a fictional case written in a newspaper, that's when he would pick up the story to read and wasn't able to put it down till he had finished the latest edition of it. Two thoughts running through Sherlock Holmes’ head after putting the paper down, he hated fiction, and he hated Marcus Bradford.

The story was impossible to deduce anything out of, how could someone dead return? The bride quite clearly can't be who murdered her husband however the story clearly states that the husband had recognised her before his death. But she was in the mourge, how could the bride be in 2 places at once? How could she then continue to kill countless men after her funeral? Sherlock felt there were too many open ends and loose threads. Threads that only one person knew the ends of. Marcus Bradford.

But no one knew who Bradford was, no one had seen him before, in fact, he had never attended any soirees nor had any presence in the ton that anyone knew of. This opened a new case for Sherlock. Who is Marcus Bradford?

No one in the ton knew that Marcus Bradford was always under their noses.

In the prestigious house of the Bridgertons, y/n Bridgerton picked at the strings of her violin with a sigh. Mrs Wilson walked into the drawing room with the weekly news and a copy of today's Lady Whstledown, y/n watched as her younger sister Eloise snatched this week's paper out of the head maid's hands and quickly skipped to page 4, with an eye roll, y/n took the gossip sheet from Mrs Wilsons hand thanking her before pretending to skim over the paper. In truth y/n wasn't interested in the words of Lady Whistledown, she only ever tried to look out to see if ‘Marcus’ was ever mentioned. He was not. She dropped the sheet on the table before standing at the window and looking out.

“Can you believe it, another one?” Eloise spoke up not tearing her eyes from the sheet. Looking back at Eloise, y/n feigned confusion “Hmm, sorry what was that?

Eloise dropped the paper on her lap and looked blankly at the ceiling “Another man was murdered, all because the yard can't solve the case”

y/n picked the paper from Eloise and pretended to skim over it while hiding her smile, “Oh Eloise don't tell me you are going on about this stupid little story again, why not go read something more useful? Or try looking into who Lady Whisteldown is again, you loved that remember? This story doesn't seem to be doing anyone any good, and the writer seems to have hit a wall don't you think?”

Instantly Eloise turned her head to y/n and stood up walking to her, “no you don't get it, sister,” she snatched the paper from the elder girls hands and pointed to a line “See here it's different ‘The man’s face paled as he looked at the contents of the envelope, turning it over, four orange pips dropped unto the table’ see sister it’s strange, this man got a warning the others didn't. Something big must be coming y/n, something different.” she quickly took the paper and ran up to her room leaving y/n looking behind her.

In truth y/n was out of inspiration. Writing under the pen name Marcus Bradford, she had made quite the name for him, but she thought, perhaps she had gone too strong with the opening and now she was crashing, the seeds in the envelope was her quite literally reaching for straws at this point, trying to buy herself time hoping that some grand idea will hit her.

She was happy with all the attention her writing was gaining even if it was under a false name. She knew her stories would have gotten nowhere otherwise. She also knew that she couldnt keep writing forever, no matter how much she loved it. Her mother was on her back about missing many balls since her debut last year and that since Eloise’s debut this year, it’s harder taking care of two girls at once, especially two girls who cared more about books than looking to the men right in front of them.

It wasn't like y/n was not interested in romance at all, rather, she was actually quite the romantic, but she found no interest in the advances of the men of the ton, in fact she always compared the whole process to a birds mating ritual, all the dancing, and the reciting of poetry and the hundreds of flower bouquets and colours. no, she much preferred the romance on the paper she read, and quite often found herself daydreaming about the books she had read, maybe one day a pirate would take her to go treasure hunting together. Or maybe a past childhood friend she doesn't remember will profess his undying love to her and how he never forgot her all these years.

y/n scoffed at the thoughts she was having, “Maybe all I need is a change of perspective and scenery…I assume a ball will have to do then” She rolled her eyes before standing and going to look for her mother's whereabouts.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

IF YOU WERE LOOKING TO FIND SHERLOCK HOLMES, polite society would usually be the last place you would look. To Sherlok it is mundane and boring, and really there is no point in trying to connect with people whose knowledge and understanding end where yours begin. With this knowledge in mind, you can imagine how shocking it would be to the people of the ton when that very Wednesday Lord Sherlock Holmes was in the promenade with his younger sister in hand, they walked straight ahead ignoring all the stares they received. Enola could quite clearly see many desperate mamas pointing to Sherlock and whispering to their daughters. “You must remind me again Sherlock, why are we here?”

Sherlock stopped walking and unhooked his arm out of Enolas’ before looking around the park and then turning to her “I’m hunting”

“Hunting? In the promenade? Brother that's hardly quite safe” she spoke with a smirk before raising an eyebrow at her brother “Don't tell me you’re-... you're not hunting for a wife are you?”

This question made Sherlock momentarily stop looking around and then sigh “Really Enola think before you speak, honestly a wife out of any of the women here? Marrying a mannequin would be more productive, at least then it wouldn't throw stupid questions at me” he eyed a few women but quickly looked away uninterested “besides I doubt any of them can hold up any meaningful conversation with substance”

Enola rolled her eyes before swatting her brother's arms lightly with her fan “Don't be so easy to underestimate them all Sherlock you never know” She then walked ahead leaving him behind.

“Of course I know, I'm Sherlock Holmes”

—--------

y/n sat on the chair under the umbrella with a fan in her left hand and a book in her right, skillfully managing to hold the book and turn the pages all with one hand, her mother sat by her chatting her ear off about some lord or other that had passed by, and all y/n could do was hum in absent agreement to please her mother when in truth she held no care for whatever lord she spoke of.

“y/n dear look theres lord manyard,” y/n looked just above her book at the lord her mother spoke of, truth be told he was appealing to the eyes but y/n knew better, she knew that he had been sweet talking almost every debutant in the ton, her eyebrow twitched into a semi frown when he caught her eyes. A wink and smirk were sent her way causing her to use every muscle in her body to not shiver with disgust, she could not however stop the massive eyeroll she did “i hear that he owns land and estates in the country and that he is even buying out oil factori-”

y/n lightly slammed her book in her lap and gave violet bridgerton a tightlipped smile, she knew her mother meant well and that she only wanted what is best for her, but it was getting hard to see her mothers disappointment at every rejection she made, “Mama, where perchance did eloise go? I did have something quite important i needed to discuss with her”

Violet sighed but pushed no further “well yes I suppose sitting here will do you no good, last i saw her she was on the promenade trail with Penelope, will you be alright on your own or should I send Anthony with you?”

y/n had already gotten up and adjusted her dress “No it's quite alright I think I’ll be fine on my own” and with that, she made her way in the direction her mother pointed to only to be stopped by a bunch of little kids running past her throwing confetti at each other, unfortunately, some got caught on her dress so while she walked she busied herself with clearing the tiny squares of paper off of her. As such in cliche stories and books, she wasn't looking in front of her causing her to bump into someone who equally wasn't looking where they were going.

Both parties' priorities regaining their balance before looking to the person in front of them, and looking up y/n noticed a girl about her age looking back at her “Please accept my apologies I wasn't focused on where I was going”

The girl quickly shook her hands in front of her “No no please you must apologise i also wasn't aware of my surroundings as I walked so if anything I'm equally at fault here”

Y/n smiled at the girl in front of her and gave her a small nod, then suddenly thought…what now, the girl was looking at her almost expectantly, y/n wasn't sure if she should say something or just walk away, but she had already stood there for too long in silence to suddenly walk away, but on the other hand what does she say?

“Enola”

Y/n raised her eyebrows “Sorry?”

“Enola Holmes… that's my name if you wanted to know” y/n raised her eyebrow at the familiar-sounding name. Enola extended her hand to y/n to shake.

“OH… oh I see yes, very nice to meet you Enola, I'm y/n Bridgerton” She then grabbed Enola's hand and shook it too as they smiled to each other.

“I must say Enola I haven't seen you in the promenade before…or at any soirees or some such thing” y/n spoke as she looked around.

Enola nodded as she brought her head up to her forehead “Yes well, I don't usually come out, I'm usually around my brother and he really doesn't care for the affairs of the ton so we rarely actually leave Baker Street”

Y/n tilted her head “I see, then what seems to have prompted today's outing?”

Enola linked her arms in y/n as they started to walk “Well-” stopping midsentence the Holmes girl furrowed her eyebrows and lifted her chin as she tried to think “In all truthfulness, I haven't the faintest idea when I asked my brother he simply stated that he was hunting”

Y/n stopped midstep and looked to Enola in confusion, “Hunting? In the promenade? I doubt he'd be lucky getting any deer or game here” She laughed at the absurdity then a thought popped into her head “he's not..hunting for women is he?”

“Those were my exact words when I confronted him, however, if I know anyone it's my brother, he isn't interested in trivialities, ‘Enola, I’d rather marry a mannequin than a woman’ were his exact words to me” she spoke as she walked on with y/n and even deepened her voice as she quoted her brother, making y/n giggle at the absurdity.

“Quite the idealist he sounds like, lucky he is a man and gets to choose and not get judged upon it” y/n voiced her thoughts making Enola look at her “You quite right y/n, and it helps him that he is also the second son so no responsibility on his shoulder he is free to do as his heart desires”

Y/n and Enola both laugh before the latter girl notices her brother standing with a couple of gentlemen smoking cigars. She pointed at her brother and sighed “Had I known he had planned to throw me aside for his playmates I would have benefited more from staying at home”

Y/n looked in the direction she was pointing at and suddenly it was like it all clicked once she saw him, of course, how could she miss such an obvious thing “Your brother is Lord Sherlock Holmes?! Of course, how could I not realise it sooner.” She slapped her hand lightly on her forehead as she looked to Enola who nodded in response.

“Trust me y/n, not as fun as it sounds, my eldest brother gave my wardship to Sherlock since he is already busy as it is with family and estate affairs and ever since then Sherlock has been as busy as ever” she stuck her tongue out at sherlock who looked away from the group of men at his sister. His eyes quickly flickered to y/n but didn't linger as his attention returned to Enola before he too stuck his tongue out to her.

Y/n smiled at the sight of the two of them, they made her think of her own family “You complain yet you both seem inseparable, it's sweet, mine are over there” She pointed to where Anthony and Colin were standing with Hyacinth and Gregory playing with a hoop. Hyacinth threw it up and Anthony managed to hook his arm in it then bowed to the trio in front of him.

Enola giggled at the sight “My that is a lot of siblings how do you get a moment of peace to yourself?” causing the other girl to roll her eyes with a smile “I don't, and believe it or not there are 4 more” Enola’s jaw dropped before noticing that Anthony had apparently started approaching them, “it seems your brother wants you back I assume?”

“Not at all I'm just checking on my sister” he smiled at the two girls before directing his attention solely to his sister “sister I'm glad you are finally adjusting and meeting people that aren't on paper” y/n rolled her eyes before pushing Anthony's shoulder lightly “oh nothing makes you happy does it Anthony, I sit reclusively, I’ll become a spinster, I mingle with other people I'm suddenly to adventurous” they both laughed before the sister turned to Enola “Enola this is Anthony my brother, Anthony…this is Enola Holmes”

Anthony's eyebrows rose “Holmes? As in Sher-”

“Good day to you Bridgerton”

There is a saying, ‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear’, and it seems quite fitting to use right here seeing as the man who approached the group and spoke up at that moment was Sherlock Holmes himself.

Anthony stood straight and nodded with a straight face to Sherlock “Holmes.”

Both men looked at each other, like in a staring contest, both Enola and y/n raised their eyebrows in confusion, looked at each other then back at their brothers. Suddenly like it was synchronised both the men shook hands and pulled each other into a friendly hug.

“I'm sorry Anthony but it feels like there's some missing context here, you both looked like you were about to murder each other and yet now you are acting like old friends, which is it friend or foe?” Y/n crossed her arms as she looked at the two men

Anthony looked to Sherlock with a smirk “Definitely foe dear sister seeing as since his graduation Lord Holmes here didn't see it fit to send any correspondence any longer”

The younger Bridgertons eyes widened as she looked to the older Holmes “You knew Anthony during his study?”

Sherlock nodded “We studied at Oxford at the same time, I studied chemistry and your brother focused on history and literature or some such thing”

Anthony coughed looking away quickly “Lord Holmes here was 1 year my senior and was booked in a flat with Hastings and I, of course, he valued his complete privacy so while he got the single bigger room in the flat me and Bassett had to share” he spoke with an eye roll.

It was Sherlock's turn to clear his throat and look away “Yes…how is Bassett… well I assume I must respectively call him the duke now”

Y/n who had felt that she and Enola had been quite forgotten now spoke up before Anthony could “Yes he is quite well, dukedom fits him rather well”

Sherlock turned to the younger Bridgerton “Is that so? I see you have become acquainted with the duke” making the girl smirk “But of course hard not to when my sister is quite literally married to him”

“I see…”

“So Holmes” Anthony spoke up clapping his hands together to divert the conversation “you never promenade what has changed? Finally thinking of settling down?”

“He's hunting” Enola spoke up.

Sherlock looked to his sister with a sigh before meeting the confused face of the Bridgertons and before they could speak up with any accusations he decided to clear his name.

“Not hunting persay, more scouting. I'm looking for the Bradfords”

It seemed as though time stopped around them, the two Bridgerton siblings and Enola’s eyes widened and y/n’s fan stopped mid-swing, the silence was heavy but was burst when Anthony quickly started laughing.

“Holmes, surely you jest, don't tell me you too have been ensnared by a small column of fiction like the rest of the ton” he spoke and was quickly followed by Enola who expressed that he constantly refused to read it and that he could possibly just be joking.

Y/n looked at each person and stepped back to watch how this would play out.

“I assure you I do not jest or joke, I have received many clients coming to me with this case and it can only be solved if I find this Marcus Bradford himself” Sherlock frustratedly spoke while looking to his sister and old friend.

Enola raised an eyebrow before addressing her brother once more “And…what case might that be Sherlock?”

Suddenly as Sherlock looked to the three stood before him, his eyes flickered between them as he embarrassingly spoke. “The case of the abominable bride.”

Y/n tried so hard but couldn't hold in the laughter causing it to come out as a snort more like. Most unladylike and in fact unhelpful seeing as Sherlock's embarrassment now turned to frustration and annoyance.

The girl quickly realised her mistake and apologised with a smile, “It's just you'd think you of all people wouldn't waste your time with a storybook”

Anthony was quick to scold his sister lightly then turned to Sherlock “I am not sure why you are doing this Holmes but…if it helps there is no Marcus Bradford in the ton, trust me people have looked.”

Sherlock nodded solemnly while looking around the ton slowly “I see… well then we had best be on our way then, it was nice seeing you and meeting your sister Anthony”

Anthony nodded and bid the Holmes' farewell as Enola promised she would write to y/n. As the two families split away and started walking away, y/n suddenly stopped and stood back and waited for Anthony to keep walking and not notice before quickly walking back to the Holmes siblings.

“Lord Holmes!” she called out to him, Sherlock and Enola turned to y/n as she stopped in front of them and took a moment to regain composure. “You know Lord Holmes… I have a pet cat named Minnie”

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as to why he was being told this, then the Bridgerton spoke up once more “She has this terrible terrible habit of loving the house a lot, and it drives me crazy looking for her but I think I have a technique down on how to catch her.” Sherlock still had no idea where this was going yet…something in him told him to humour the girl and give her his complete attention.

“I used to go to every maid and ask her if she had seen Minnie until I realised, really if I track down the most important places I'd be saving time and energy, so now… when Minnie runs off, I just go to the kitchens and wait… she will have to eat sometime and the kitchen staff know not to let her out after that.”

And with that y/n turned around and walked back to her family who were sitting under the umbrella.

“What was that about?” Enola spoke up when she noticed Sherlock was still looking at where y/n stood with a far-off look.

“A cat called Minnie…apparently”

y/n smirked as she watched Sherlock and Enola leave the promenade. If Sherlock Holmes wanted a wild goose chase, then who was she to deny him of it?

“Catch me if you can Lord Holmes” she spoke with a smirk

The game was truly afoot.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

I do not own Bridgerton

I do not own Sherlock or Enola Holmes

and I most certainly do not own the abominable bride story

they belong to their rightful owners.

I only own the fic idea.

@frost-queen

#bridgerton #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #enola holmes #enola and sherlock #bridgerton reader #bridgerton x reader #sherlock holmes fanfiction #crossover #fanfic #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock #imagine #bridgerton x enola holmes

269 notes · View notes

rosesandswordsforapence · 5 days

Text

Godmother and Favor

Summary: Lady Leighton had one goal for the season: have her brother marry so she could be free of managing his household and affairs. The title of Earl still fresh on his shoulders and her mother still bared down by grief, her last intent was to have the eyes of the ton on her instead of him. But then Lady Whistledown made her seem like a damsel in a fairytale, and who can resist playing knight?

Pairing: Reader x Undecided Bridgerton boy

Part: 2/?

Author's Note: The line breaks will be phrases/lyrics that fit with reader in scenes as both an Easter egg and because I'm not sure how to do line breaks.

Part 1

"This is ridiculous!" She accused as she threw the Society Papers down roughly on the dinning table with a glare as though it would change the words the ink spelled out.

Matthias took a moment to swallow the food he had been chewing, trying mentally to decide the best way to both comfort and assure his sister. "Surely it can not be that bad-"

"She called you and mother a dragon I needed rescuing from," she huffed, turning when she reached the end of the dinning room in order to continue her pacing in the other direction. "She all but said I was up for grabs-"

He took a moment to have a sip of tea before picking up the paper and grimacing lightly. "I admit, it is not the first impression I wanted to make as Earl-"

"She painted you both as antagonists in some fairytale, she may as well have said I sleep by the fireplace and have cinder on me constantly-"

"Be at peace," his voice attempted to have the treble their father's had. The same tone that when he said to listen to their mother it was not a suggestion but an order. The tone in his voice and it being directed at her felt off, like a corset she had grown out of but not by enough to discard it.

She turned on her heel, though crossed her arms as she looked at him.

He stood from his seat at the head of the table, moving to place his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to reassure her. "Everything will be fine, the ton is fickle and will forget the slight after the ball tonight. Some debutante will trip or some lord spill his wine on his mama and all will be well. She will write of how lovely the manor looks and how lovely the ball looked and praise you for your display of hostess abilities."

Her frown deepened. "That will not result in your marriage."

He rolled his eyes, sighing as he moved again to his seat and motioned for her to join him to his right. "Let me worry about me marrying, you simply enjoy being out of mourning."

She moved to sit by his side but stayed tense. It was easy for him to say the right words, assure her that she could enjoy the season and be friendly with the ton, but she saw his face whenever she was away for too long. His fidgets when people addressed him as the Earl, like he was half expecting father to be there. Even if he was okay with her enjoying the ton, how could she do so knowing he still took a few seconds to realize when they called for the Earl he was the one they were speaking to?

"Though I do ask a favor for tonight," he said softly, moving to pour her more tea as her hands gripped the bottom of the chair. "It is more for you then it is for me-"

"Speak it," her harsh reply showing the stress she still felt, only correcting herself after her brother raised an eyebrow. "Please."

He nodded once before speaking. "I ask that you dance with one of the Bridgertons tonight."

Her demeanor went from stoic to confused. "What makes you think they will even ask?"

"Because I spoke to the Viscount at the gentleman's club last night."

At his words she found herself tensing more. She had hoped she would not have to speak to them, in fear her envy would make her feel things she wished to repress. They seemed so... not perfect but happy. Perfectly content with their family in a way that made her feel like the most accursed sinner for wishing for what they had. She knew they had been through struggles, that the first few years after the last viscount died had stained them, but they were through the thick of it. It felt like watching someone be pulled from a rough current you were still in the midst of.

Her brother sighed as he added sugar to her tea. "He says he understands that the situation is rough for you and thinks it best you accept one of their hands for a dance. Just one. It would make them not appear shunned and me not appear to be so callous as to ban you from dancing," he took a moment to frown at the paper still before him. "Honestly, next she will imply I banned you from laughing."

She exhaled sharply, unable to fight the urge to reply. "No, you give me plenty to laugh at brother."

He holds back a smile and for a moment she remembers how they used to be before all of their talks centered on the family and it's holdings.

"It's just a dance, my dear," he assures her with a small pat to her hand. "No one is insisting you marry."

She sighed, but nodded as she moved the tea cup to her lips.

Perhaps this would instead make the attention go to her brother. Her appearing as any other debutante would surely make her uninteresting as there were quite a lot this year.

i look through people's windows, transfixed by rose golden glows

Lo and behold, the Bridgertons seemed to take the scandal as a call to action. Truly, she had never known the family to be so extroverted but it seemed that they viewed her family as a wounded bird they couldn't leave alone in the park.

It had started when Matthias and she were greeting the guests.

She had curtseyed as they approached, moving to stand with a smile and a welcome on her lips with the dowager had pulled her into a hug most unexpectedly.

"My, how you've grown," she commented after she finally released her. "It seems not even a season ago you were tugging on your mother's dress and asking for an extra biscuit during tea."

She noticed in her peripheral vision the Viscount clapped her brother on the back and mentioned a hunting trip, which prompted his brother Colin to launch into speaking of the hunting in other countries from his travels. Perhaps this was part of the scandal clean up?

She smiled, though her face still flushed. She had not exactly shown physical affection since her father passed. Her brother and mother were both less physical then she was, she found herself slightly disappointed when the motherly warmth pulled back. "Yes, well you look lovely as ever. I hear Daphne had a successful first season. The Duchess of Hastings, from my understanding."

The matriarch nodded, somehow moving to that the lady's arm was held to hers as she moved to enter the ball room. "Yes, well if my Eloise has her way I will not be as successful this year." She shot a look to her second daughter over her shoulder.

Eloise huffed but moved to follow. "It is archaic, mama-"

Y/n had no idea how this had happened, but she commended the Bridgertons on their skill of tact. They had isolated she and her brother with no actual difficulty and in a way that seemed natural and even oddly warm. As though they were old friends.

Violet had led both the younger girls, the one by the hand and her own daughter by simply avoiding any suitors, to a small enclave in the room's design. She gave a moment to Eloise to catch up before turning to the Leighton girl. "Truly, are you most alright?"

The girl paused, a weak smile on her face. "I do not know what you mean-"

She made that clicking sound in a way only a mother could. If a priest could harness that sound there would likely be no more vice. "You most certainly do," she said rather firmly.

Before she could answer, Eloise spoke. "Is Lady Whistledown correct? Are you managing you entire family's estate-" "Eloise," her mother scolded in a whisper.

Eloise frowned. "But mother, if she is she must be bri-"

Her mother held up a hand, silencing her quickly before turning to the young girl again. "Speak honestly now when I ask. Are you alright?"

She could tell by her tone the matriarch knew the answer. It was almost as though she were daring the girl to lie to her.

"I am the best I can be." she responded honestly, still holding back her emotions the best she could.

At the more honest response, the dowager viscountess seemed pleased. "And the dowager countess? How is she?"

Y/n fought to keep her voice steady but kept the polite smile. "My mother is still in mourning at the country estate."

Eloise was the first to respond, almost knocking her mother over to move to be center in her line of sight. "You are alone this season?"

"No, my brother-"

The dowager waved off both her daughter's shock and Leighton's dismissal. "No, she will have us."

Y/n seemed to be processing her words.

"Pardon?" her voice had gone up an octave, her mind trying to handle having to remake her plans for the season for the third time in less than a day.

The dowager chuckled, moving to pat her cheek lightly and affectionately. "My dear, our family knows the feeling of lose. In fact, your father was a good help to Anthony when the title was made his own. It will be our greatest honor to aid your family." She moved to tuck a stray hair behind the girl's ear. "Besides, your father would desire it. You know, he named my Edmund and I as your godparents at your christening."

Y/n blinked, wondering momentarily if this was some joke regarding Lady Whistledown's fairytale metaphor.

"Besides," the mother continued moving to take her hand while turning to face her own daughter. "Perhaps with you I may have a successful season seeing as Eloise has decided the best way to show independence is to swear off love."

Eloise rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You exaggerate, mother!"

As she listened to them go back and forth she was left with a bit to ponder. One thought being that the season seemed to be chaotic regardless of how many angles she tried to plan it. Another being that she would need to ask to see the baptismal record of the church. The foremost one though being that perhaps she would come to adore the Bridgertons.

That one being the most deadly, she did not desire to fall in love with a family only to be torn away at the end of the season. Losing one family was enough for forever.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine

221 notes · View notes

dearabsolutelynoone · 2 months

Text

“Furthermore, he always dances with her one more time than is considered de rigueur…

…considering how many husbands don’t like to dance with their wives at all, this is romantic stuff, indeed.” - LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 10 JUNE 1814

Julia Quinn, The Viscount Who Loved Me (Bridgertons, #2)

1K notes · View notes

bosbas · 5 months

Text

Chapter 13: it's never too late to come back to my side

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining, some swearing

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: ahhhh we're getting close to the end i'm so emotional i love them so dearly

August 15, 1814 - It has come to this author's attention that Mr Benedict Bridgerton will be in attendance at Aubrey Hall this year in time for his family's country house party. This comes after almost two months away in the countryside. Will Mr Bridgerton be shocked to find out that his best friend and his older brother have been courting while he was away? Or has he been kept up to date on the ton's happenings, perhaps by this very column? The lucky guests at Aubrey Hall will find out for themselves in a few days, and the remaining members of the ton in London will surely find out through Lady Whistledown's society papers in the coming week.

"Benedict it's been three days. You have to come downstairs at some point," groaned Hyacinth. She was tired of watching her older brother mope around aimlessly, refusing to participate in any Bridgerton-Beaumont activities.

Knowing bits and pieces of what had happened between you and Benedict, Hyacinth was inclined to leave him to rot in his room forever, completely unsympathetic to his low mood. However, she couldn't help but notice your eyes searching every room you entered, looking for your best friend, only to visibly slump your shoulders when you realized that Benedict had once again failed to show up. So, after three days of watching your disappointment grow exponentially, Hyacinth had taken matters into her own hands. Except for the fact that Benedict was not particularly enthusiastic about Hyacinth's efforts, lying on his bed with a half-open book on his abdomen as he rolled his eyes at his sister.

"Go away. I'm not going to play Pall Mall, just leave me alone," he responded, laying an arm over his eyes.

Hyacinth scoffed in response. "I'm not here to ask if you want to play Pall Mall, brother. If I were, you wouldn't have a choice. Not that you have much choice now, anyway."

Then, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him as hard as her eleven-year-old strength allowed, she tried to make him see sense. "Y/N is even more miserable than you are because you won't even come down for dinner. I don't care that you're the one who upset her in the first place, she wants to see you!"

Seeing Benedict move his arm away from his eyes and give her a questioning look, Hyacinth sighed, exasperated. "Yes, I know about that. Which is how I know you're making it worse by staying cooped up in your room while she's downstairs with no one to talk to."

"She can just talk to Anthony," shot back Benedict, knowing it was a weak argument even before the words came out of his mouth.

Hyacinth did all she could to hold back from screaming at her brother, who was being exceedingly petulant. "You are such an idiot that it's hard to imagine how you lead a semi-normal life," she settled for saying, knowing she would get a lecture if she used any stronger language.

Benedict rolled his eyes, but his gaze shot over to his bedroom door when he heard hushed voices just outside whispering fiercely.

"Yes?" he snapped, loud enough that the voices ceased talking. The door creaked open and a very sheepish-looking Theo and Bastian popped their heads in, stumbling into the room unceremoniously.

After slapping Bastian on the shoulder, only a tad aggressively, Theo cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse our entrance."

"We're here to talk to you about Y/N, obviously, but it seems Hyacinth has beat us to it," finished Bastian, scratching the back of his head.

Benedict grumbled some expletives that were most definitely not appropriate for Hyacinth's ears at the prospect of two of your brothers, and the most athletic ones at that, giving him grief for the way things had played out between the two of you. He was already nursing a piercing heartache and the insurmountable guilt of having ruined his chances at being with you by an ill-timed attempt at a kiss, and he most certainly did not need half of your siblings making him feel worse about it. Having Hyacinth in your corner, and therefore against him, was difficult enough.

"Well, go on then," Ben relented, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible so he could go back to wallowing in his sorrows. Perhaps his intense heartbreak would lead to some magnificent inspiration for his next piece, and he could find comfort in the fact that his art would be massively successful, even if he couldn't have you. A poor consolation prize, but a consolation prize nonetheless.

Bastian looked at Hyacinth pensively, assessing how crude he was going to be with such a young girl present to hear what he was saying. He knew she had probably heard it all before, given that she grew up with four older brothers nearby, but Bastian was hesitant to be the direct cause of any colorful language the youngest Bridgerton might employ. Deciding the benefits of being as direct as possible outweighed the possible lecture he would receive, Bastian spoke quickly, "We just think you're being a fucking idiot."

"Sebastian!" exclaimed Theo, hitting him on the shoulder again and ignoring that Hyacinth was currently dissolving into a fit of giggles. "What he means to say is that we think you're being rather foolish. Though the strength of Bastian's words do communicate how we feel about this, foul as they were."

"Why, thank you. I was sick with worry wondering what your opinion on my relationship with my best friend was," retorted Benedict, not able to help his sarcastic tone even though he knew your brothers were not the best people to provoke right at this minute.

"Don't forget your best friend is our younger sister, so I do imagine we're allowed an opinion," replied Bastian, wanting to keep Benedict in place.

Theo, the more level-headed of the twins, looked at Ben with what could have been construed as a look of sympathy if it weren't also laced with unimaginable anger. "We're quite serious, Benedict. We know what happened a few days ago in your studio. Why can't you just talk to her?"

Benedict sat up and put his head in his hands, rather sick of having everyone know his business. "How on earth does everyone know what happened?"

Theo and Bastian exchanged a glance, unsure whether they should reveal their source. But Hyacinth saved them from an explanation. Quite matter-of-factly, she explained, "Eloise overheard your argument pretty much in its entirety. And, of course, she told everyone. Though I'm sure the twins have heard some bits and pieces from Y/N herself, and perhaps Anthony, too."

Seeing Benedict look from Hyacinth to Bastian to Theo in disbelief, loathing that it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from his family, Bastian commented, "Perhaps if Francesca had been the one to overhear we wouldn't have known so much. But all the better for us that Eloise, quite inexplicably, knows absolutely everything about everyone."

Shaking his head, Benedict accepted the current predicament he was in. "Right, then. I'll have to remember to thank Eloise for allowing me to have this wonderful conversation the next time I see her. Regardless, this makes it easier to tell you that I can't 'just talk to her,' Theo. I can't act like nothing happened."

Bastian immediately rolled his eyes upon hearing Benedict's excuse. "It's truly a wonder your friendship with her has lasted so long. Of course she wants to hear from you! She always wants to hear from you. Even when she's upset with you."

"It's all she ever talks about, usually. How long until she can see you and talk to you about whatever trivial matter she wishes to spend hours talking about," added Theo, hoping to remind Benedict that you needed him. Twenty years of being best friends meant that you needed Ben even when the two of you were fighting. Especially when you were fighting, actually, since Benedict was the only person who knew how to properly console you when you were upset.

"They're not trivial matters," said Benedict defensively. He loved hearing you talk on and on about whatever plot hole was plaguing you, and he found it rather interesting, too, but now was not the time to get into that particular point. "Anyway, that doesn't resolve the issue. It doesn't matter if I talk to her or not, she still doesn't love me back. And I have been doing a splendid job so far of trying to get over her before she marries my brother, so if you could very kindly allow me to continue to do so, I would greatly appreciate it," he finished curtly.

Hyacinth scoffed, in disbelief at her brother's blindness. "She doesn't 'not love you back,' you big baby! I'm eleven years old, I shouldn't be the one telling you to grow up!"

"Hyacinth, stop it. That's unusually cruel, even for you," protested Benedict, feeling an almost physical pain at the impossible possibility that you might love him back after what happened in his studio. He had considered the possibility incessantly in his mind the past few days, of course. But to hear someone else say it, to hear the words spoken so clearly by someone else rather than hearing it in his internal monologue or seeing it written down in his sloppy handwriting in letters he had never sent, was enough to make him feel nauseous.

Up until fairly recently, his love for you had been quite manageable. Even unnoticeable, at least to him, for the first few years. However, now he was quite pointedly aware that every time his heartbeat faltered it was undoubtedly due to you, whether you had laughed in a particularly adorable way or worn a gown that made your figure look quite irresistible. And he had lost any chance he had with you because he was too overcome by his desire to be by your side in a more-than-friendly way and had had awful timing in attempting to kiss you. So, yes, Hyacinth was being quite cruel in his eyes. Even if the cruelty was warranted, seeing how you looked as distraught as he felt.

"I do believe Hyacinth is right," Theo spoke, causing the youngest Bridgerton to beam, radiant, beside him, contrasting Ben's positively ghastly expression. "Y/N has loved you for years. It's been painfully obvious to the rest of us, but apparently, you're too thick to notice."

Bastian piped in to agree with his brother. "Precisely. So we're spelling it out for you. She does love you back, you just decided to confess your love for her at an inopportune moment. If Eloise's memory serves her correctly," which earned him a snicker from Hyacinth, "Y/N never said she didn't love you back."

Theo nodded, "She just said nothing had been resolved. Which it hadn't. So resolve it."

As if trying to romance the woman Ben had been helplessly and irrevocably in love with for the better part of a decade was as easy as taking a stroll, Bastian shrugged and added, "It's simple, really."

Benedict swallowed thickly, hearing a loud ringing in his ears. He found he couldn't focus his eyesight on anything, vision growing blurry as his eyes aimlessly scanned the room. He had taken your abrupt exit from his studio as a complete rejection, a sign that he had ruined any chance of moving beyond the boundaries of the friendship you two had built so lovingly. But apparently, the rejection had not been because you did not love him back, but rather because Benedict had behaved quite like an ass.

The absolute bliss he should have felt was overshadowed by a tightness in his chest that he could easily attribute to fear. There was so much more to lose now. He was scared out of his wits that he'd mess up again and lose you in any way that mattered, friendship and all.

"But what if it's too far gone? What if I don't fix it?" asked Ben, voicing his fears shakily.

Bastian laughed dryly and Benedict felt it more than he would a physical blow. "That's not really an option, is it? That's our sister you're talking about."

Theo growled lowly, not opposed to resorting to violence when the matter concerned the possible heartbreak of his younger sister. "Fix it or we fix you."

And the two walked out, Hyacinth skipping happily in front of them, without acknowledging the garbled groan that came from Ben's throat. He would have to make it count, then. One last chance to make you his. To make a reality the only way he could truly be happy. But it wasn't an impossible task. He knew you better than you knew yourself, after all.

---

You were making your way upstairs to your bedroom after another torturous dinner without Ben when Anthony touched your arm and asked if he could walk you back. It took less than five seconds for you to burst into tears and nod sorrowfully as he led you out of the sitting room where the rest of your families had migrated and were now settling into cozy conversation. Thankfully, no one else noticed, or at least didn't think to call you out on your sudden burst of emotion.

"It's going to be alright, one way or another," Anthony whispered as he led you down the hallway. And though he felt it was appropriate given the circumstance, he refrained from calling you darling or really any other pet name, knowing Benedict was usually the only one to refer to you as such, and thus it might cause you more undue stress.

"I know," you responded tearfully. "I just miss him."

You hiccuped and leaned your head onto Anthony's shoulder. As much as you enjoyed Anthony's company, you secretly wished that it was Benedict's strong shoulder you were feeling. But it didn't do to dwell on such matters now.

"Well, he did tell you he loved you," offered Anthony as the two of you climbed the stairs. "I think you're crazy to not immediately go after him." Perhaps he had been too worried about the fact that Benedict was an idiot to realize that you, too, were an idiot when it came to matters pertaining to your best friend and your very obvious love for him.

You shook your head decidedly. "He did tell me that, yes, but look at what's happened now," you said, flailing your arms in frustration. "He's ignored me for three days. You can't just say you're in love with someone and then not speak with them for three days!"

Anthony laughed softly when you sniffed sulkily, but you kept speaking. "It's too easy for Ben to swoop in after I've done so much work to get over him and found someone I want to marry," you gave the man beside you a pointed stare. "I don't just want to be with him when it's convenient for him. I need Benedict to actually want me and to prove that he wants me. Which he is doing a very poor job of at the minute because I haven't seen him since he confessed he was in love with me," you finished with a huff.

But Anthony was saved from having to respond, as Alex was waiting for you by your bedroom door, hands behind his back.

"Ah, Y/N. Just the person I wanted to see. Do you fancy a chat?"

Seeing that you didn't have much of a choice, you nodded and thanked Anthony, sending him on his way as you turned to face your older brother. "Very well," you relented.

The two of you went inside your bedroom and Alex, ever the unwavering presence in your life, closed the door firmly and crossed his arms as he stared at you. You were a tad nervous, not quite sure of what he was going to say. Ever since you had started courting Anthony, he had steered clear of the two of you, not exactly disapproving of the courtship, but not particularly supportive of it either. Needless to say, you were fairly surprised that he was being so direct with you now, asking to talk to you and staring you down in your room.

"Y/N," he started. "I mean this will all the love that I have in my heart for you, which is quite a lot, but you are being so, so stupid. It's almost painful to watch."

You were completely taken aback. "Excuse me?" you sputtered, not quite believing that your brother would speak to you like this. Although it was nice to hear him speak to you in any way at all, since you knew he had probably been holding back from saying this every time you spoke with him for the duration of your courtship with Anthony.

With a determined look on his face, a slightly furrowed brow, and downturned lips, Alexander pressed on. "You are so obviously in love with Benedict," and before you could protest, he continued speaking. "And he is so obviously in love with you, that I just don't understand the problem. He told you he was in love with you, from what Eloise has said, so I don't particularly see an issue now."

A flicker of confusion passed over your face. "He– What? What are you getting at?" you asked, knowing there was something else that Alex wanted to say.

It was imperative to him that you grasped what he was saying instead of focusing on how he said it. So he sighed a tad impatiently but spoke steadily enough that you wouldn't be put off by his tone of voice. "At the beginning of the season, I wasn't absolutely bricking it over my little sister debuting in society because I didn't think I would have to worry about you actually courting anyone. I just assumed that you and Ben would end up married, much like the rest of our families. In fact, I assumed you would be married already. It's mid-August now, and I thought you would have at the very latest married in June. Again, I mean this with a lot of love, but you're being a massive idiot. Every single person in our family can see that you're in love. So go be with the man you love!"

You were stunned. Alex had never made any indication that he thought that you and Ben would marry. But then again, perhaps you and Benedict loving each other came so naturally that he didn't need to.

Nevertheless, you shook your head adamantly. "I don't care what you thought, or what the rest of the family thought, or even what I thought! Benedict left me when I needed him, and Anthony was there for me–"

"So, you're marrying Anthony, then? You've decided you still want to be with him after all this?" asked Alex, on the brink of losing his seemingly endless temper.

"I don't know! Maybe? I haven't entirely decided, yet," you argued. "But it's either that or no marriage since Benedict hasn't exactly provided an alternative solution, and I would rather die than marry a man of the ton."

"But do you love Anthony?" asked your brother, voice clear as it cut through your rambling.

"Does it matter?"

"To you, it does," he responded firmly, but not unkindly.

And he was right. To you, it did matter. Perhaps not to Anthony, and perhaps not to Alexander, either. But to you, it did. Or it had, at least. And shouldn't it still matter? Even if you hadn't had the most linear season, and you hadn't found exactly what you were looking for. Shouldn't you still hope for love? And shouldn't you still fight for it, despite your best friend's terrible timing?

—

previous part || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!):

@bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirllorianna @loliakeoghan23 @cierrajhill

377 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 11 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [32] - Viscaria

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Honesty makes bonds stronger.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 4000

Series Masterlist

The following week was very chaotic, and that was saying something considering what this whole season had been like so far.

Daphne was back from her honeymoon and had a lot of things to share with you, and you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be able to recover from that conversation. It was one thing to know and hear that nightly activities were -as Daphne had called them- pleasurable beyond words and it was another to know despite they were pleasurable beyond words, you still hadn’t…

Consummated.

Because Benedict had told you once that he would only touch you when you fell in love with him and you were not going to get rejected again.

The other thing was that Anthony had tempted fate that night apparently, because now everyone was talking about Colin and Marina. As Lady Whistledown had written on her society paper, Marina was pregnant from another man and she had been since she had got to London. Once the news had broken out, her courtship with Colin was brought to an end immediately and she was sent away from London by the Featheringtons to the countryside and as far as you had heard from Eloise, she was to marry the brother of the baby’s father, since the father was dead.

You shuddered to think what that poor girl was going through.

Colin was quite heartbroken but as Benedict had told you, he was slowly getting better. He and Marina had had the chance to talk before she had left for the countryside, so you figured that had to have cleared out the air at least a little.

Not for the ton, of course. That scandal was to keep them busy for at least a month if you had to guess.

As if all that wasn’t chaotic enough, both Bess and your aunt had decided that they would throw balls back to back; Bess’ ball was tonight while your aunt’s was next week, and you had spent the last week rushing from her house to Bess’s to make sure everything was going smoothly.

“I have a question for you,” Lottie said as she flung herself next to you. You still had hours until you would all go to Bess’ ball, so you had decided to relax in the park a bit. Though you were supposed to focus on your book away from the crowd under a tree, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Benedict who was in a deep conversation with Margery and Henry before you frowned and turned to see Lottie better.

“Yes?”

“So you know how everyone is talking about Marina being…” she lowered her voice, “pregnant out of wedlock.”

“Hasn’t escaped my notice.”

“But how?”

“Sorry?”

“I thought one was supposed to be married to become with child.”

You blinked a couple of times. “Well not—not necessarily,” you managed to say and she took a deep breath.

“I asked mama.”

“Oh dear God.”

“And she says it is an act full of love and desire that should only happen once you’re married.”

“Uh huh,” you said, looking around in an attempt to distract yourself. “Oh look at that, a butterfly—”

“What act?” she cut you off and you let out a whine.

“Lottie.”

“What happens when you’re married?”

“You know what, that’s a really good question,” you pointed out. “And the better question is; why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because you’re married,” she answered. “Not to mention, even before you got married you and Benny have been…”

“Debauched?”

“Full of desire,” she whispered and you felt your cheeks burn. “Even before your wedding, you two—”

You cut her off, careful to keep it quiet. “We didn’t do anything before the wedding!”

Nor after, now that you thought about it.

She lowered her voice. “But you kissed.”

“Nothing more!” you whispered back in a haste. “And you’re telling me you and Anthony did not?”

She repressed a proud grin, trying to keep a straight face.

“Perhaps.”

“There you go!”

“But that’s not our subject right now,” she said. “I forgave you after lying to me for months and you will keep it from me?”

“Lottie…”

“My two best friends and the love of my life lied to me, and now you keep another thing from me.”

“You’re devious,” you pointed at her, causing her to smile at you sweetly. “You really are.”

“I’m just hungry for knowledge.”

“You and I seem to have that in common,” you murmured. “Lottie, it’s just…it’s a pleasurable act.”

“That causes one to be pregnant?”

“Not always,” you said. “Marina’s was just bad luck I’d say. It’s only on specific times if you do that act that you become pregnant, it’s a mystery. I heard people say there are ways to prevent it as well, she must have not known.”

“And?”

“And,” you cleared your throat. “When you’re in love, and you desire that person and they desire you back…It’s—well, it’s divine.”

Or so I heard.

She thought for a moment.

“And you knew all this when you married Benny?”

“I didn’t grow up in the ton,” you said. “People talk about it more back in the countryside.”

“And Benny knew as well?”

“…Mm hm,” you pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing but she still saw the look of amusement on your face.

“What does that mean?”

“He’s very well practiced, and that’s the only thing I’ll say about it.”

“You know,” she mused. “There was a lady and one of Benny’s friends during my debut two years ago who were caught in an inappropriate situation at night in her bedchambers, and at their wedding breakfast I asked Benny what that situation was and he only laughed and told me I’d learn after I got married.”

“Wise words from the ton’s horizontal refreshment,” you muttered and she tilted her head.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“So it’s pleasurable then?” she insisted. “If it is with the one you love?”

“Not to quote Benedict, but you’ll find out soon enough,” you said with a small grin. “Anthony and you will be married before the season is over, you know it as well as I do.”

A bright smile curled her lips, then she took a deep breath.

“I still haven’t forgiven him.”

“How much longer are you planning on making him suffer?”

She let out a giggle. “I would never make him suffer,” she said. “My heart is his completely.”

Your grin slowly faded when your gaze drifted to Benedict chuckling at something Margery had said, then joked back, making Margery laugh. Henry had to have walked away so it was just the two of them, and you felt the bitter taste of jealousy burn your throat before you looked at Lottie.

“So um—are you going to forgive him then?”

“I’m hoping to talk to him tonight at the ball,” she said. “He is coming as well, no?”

“Oh all of them will,” you said. “Even Colin, apparently. Benedict is dragging him there.”

Lottie nodded slowly, then stood up.

“I’d better see if my siblings are up to something, excuse me,” she said and walked away from you. Benedict saw her out of the corner of his eye, then said something to Margery before rushing after Lottie, no doubt to try to talk to her considering she hadn’t forgiven him yet either. Margery looked around, then waved at you and approached you.

“Well hello there,” she said and you offered her a smile.

“Hello.”

“Riveting read?”

“Not quite, but it’s a good excuse to keep myself busy,” you said and she shot you a smile.

“Understandable,” she said. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you said and scooted over so that she could sit down.

“We missed you at the party last week,” she said. “Why didn’t you come with Benedict?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I was quite busy,” you said. “At the ball. But he says it was very much fun.”

“Oh it was!” she said, pressing a hand over her chest. “You really should’ve been there Y/N. Jane throws wonderful parties, you simply must come to the next one, I insist.”

“I will,” you said. “And are you coming to the ball tonight?”

“Absolutely,” she said and let out a laugh. “Benedict was just joking about how he has never seen me dance and he has this theory I’m terrible at it. He says he will see at tonight’s ball.”

You could feel your stomach doing a flip. It didn’t really mean anything, nor was it something that was ought to make you feel this jealous but—

Alright, this was ridiculous.

They were friends after all, so of course they were to joke around, there was nothing for you to feel bad about. You cleared your throat and smiled.

“Does he?”

“My mother used to give me these endless lessons until my dancing was perfect,” she made a face. “I hated it, but I do admit it comes handy at the balls.”

“Things we do for the ton,” you said as your eyes fell on Benedict who was making his way to you and Margery stood up.

“I should leave you two be.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to—”

“No no, it’s no issue,” she said. “I should find Lucy anyway. See you tonight Y/N.”

“See you,” you said as she walked away, and you watched Benedict come closer to you.

“The ton’s horizontal refreshment?” he asked and you repressed a laugh at the look of complete puzzlement on his face.

“You talked to Lottie?”

“Talked at her before she—did you seriously call me the ton’s horizontal refreshment?”

You shrugged your shoulders, adapting a look of complete innocence.

“I could’ve called you the town harlot,” you pointed out. “But I’m nicer than that.”

A laugh escaped from his lips and he motioned at your side. “May I?”

“Of course,” you said and he sat down beside you, making your heart skip a beat.

“So what brought that on, exactly?”

“She was curious about what happens when one gets married,” you said. “You know, with the Marina scandal and everything.”

“Ah,” he said and paused for a moment. “And what did you say?”

“Well I certainly didn’t say she would learn after getting married, which is more information that you gave her,” you pointed out. “Hypocrite.”

“It was not my place to inform her on that,” he defended himself and turned to look at you. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her it’s unpleasant.”

“Wh- of course I did not!” you said in a haste. “Everything aside, I don’t want to listen to Anthony whining about it.”

Benedict made a face. “Let’s just stop talking about that because I do not want that picture in my mind.”

You hummed. “How is Colin?”

“He’s heartbroken but he will pull himself together,” he said. “I’m not sure if Anthony will though. Third scandal involving our family in one season.”

You shrugged. “So far.”

“Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I honestly think that he might have a heart attack if another scandal happens, and I do not want to be a Viscount.”

You grinned at him before you saw Margery and Lucy walking by the park out of the corner of your eye, and lowered your glances to your book, smoothing out the corner of the page. Benedict frowned.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you asked, lifting your head. “Oh yeah, sure. Just thinking about tonight’s ball, Bess put so much effort into it so I hope it goes well.”

“I’m sure it will.”

“And uh—Margery is coming as well?”

“They all are,” Benedict said. “Should be fun.”

You tried to smile, then nodded your head.

“Yeah,” you said. “Should be fun.”

In all honesty, it really was a fun ball. Bess was a wonderful host, albeit a busy one because you hadn’t had any chance to talk to her or Josie or Andrew for that matter. You had hoped to talk to Lottie but you barely had the chance to see her before she had excused herself from the ball after one dance, saying she was still tired from the park. Anthony had left around five minutes after Lottie had, but they were the only ones because every other guest seemed to be having so much fun.

Felix had somehow convinced you into being a part of the next dance which required you to switch partners every once in a while, and you were now paired with him while Lucy danced with Henry and Benedict danced with Margery. You let out a laugh and let him turn you as the dance required.

“An artist and a good dancer,” you said, taking a step forward with him. “Full of surprises, are you not?”

“I hope my art skills are better than my dancing skills,” he said with a smile and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not complaining,” you said. “Any new paintings you have been working on?”

“Just drawings,” he said. “And you? Have you discovered a new flower yet?”

You scoffed a laugh, “Mm hm, I’ll name it Felix,” you said. “And when will I see the drawings? Or does that privilege only belong to my brother-in-law?”

He suppressed a smile and stole a look at the dancing couples, and you winked at him.

“You two are such close friends after all,” you said airily as he held out his arm and you put your hand on it. Felix grinned.

“We talk a lot about art,” he played along. “He has many interesting ideas. It’s quite inspiring.”

“I’m sure it is,” you said, still smirking and clapped your hands together along with other couples, then switched partners and Henry smiled at you.

“Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Sir Granville,” you greeted Henry and put your hand on his shoulder. “Having fun?”

“Quite so, you must give my gratitude to Lady Hadfield,” he said. “A wonderfully planned ball.”

“There’s nothing Bess can’t do wonderfully, except for keeping her plants alive,” you commented and let him twirl you before you took a step.

“Our lovesick couple is back in the honeymoon phase then?” he asked and you shot him a lighthearted glare.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?”

“Not at all,” you said with a smirk, stealing a look at Lucy who was now dancing with Benedict, “We were simply enjoying the fresh air.”

Henry chuckled, then you both clapped your hands and switched partners, Benedict grabbing you by the hand to twirl you, making you giggle.

“Hello Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Hello to you too Mrs. Bridgerton,” he grinned at you, “How are you on this fine evening?”

“Enjoying the ball, and yourself?”

“Enjoying the sight of the most beautiful lady at the ball as we speak,” he said and you scrunched up your nose at him, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

“Ever the romantic,” you teased him. “I should write you a sonnet or something, to pay back the favor. Can’t have you covering that whole front.”

He let out a laugh and you both circled each other as the dance required.

“A sonnet,” he said. “That sounds lovely. Will you carve it on a stone with a knife or something?”

“That does sound romantic now that you mention it,” you said. “And a stone can be a weapon as well, so you would have a sonnet you can actually use if need be.”

“Ever the practical,” he teased you back and you both clapped hands along with other couples, the music coming to a stop. Laughter and chattering filled the dance floor as you dropped a curtsy and Benedict bowed.

“Come on, let’s grab drinks,” he said and offered you his arm, and you put your hand over it so that you both could walk away from the dance floor. Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray, then gave one to you.

“Is Lottie alright, do you think?” you asked and he nodded.

“She said she was, before reminding me she still wasn’t talking to me.”

You repressed a laugh and stole a look at Colin who was talking to Penelope by the corner.

“And Colin?”

“Pen will make him snap out of it,” he said. “Being around her always makes him feel better. Look at him, smiling already.”

You tilted your head, turning to glance at them but before you could comment on it, someone touched your back, making you look behind you.

“Andrew,” you said, turning around to see him better. “This is a good surprise after what, two weeks?”

“I know,” he said, giving you an apologetic smile. “I have been busy. Hello Benedict.”

“Hello Andrew.”

“Busy with a certain artist?”

“Maybe,” he winked at you. “Where is he anyway?”

“He was just on the dance floor,” you said and Andrew looked through the crowd, then nodded.

“Alright, I’ll be back but before I forget,” he said. “Y/N, Josie says you’ve been worried about the letter from your father and I get that but trust me, even if they do come here there’s no—” he stopped talking as your eyes widened, your heart dropping to your stomach. Benedict slowly turned to look at you before turning to Andrew with a frown and Andrew glanced between you, then hissed in a breath.

“And you haven’t had the chance to tell him,” he muttered. “Damn it. Sorry, I thought…”

“Your parents are coming here?” Benedict asked you and you pursed your lips together, then cleared your throat.

“Andrew, do you mind?”

“Yeah I’ll just—” he motioned at the other side of the ballroom. “Go and mess up another couple’s relationship on my way there so that you won’t feel alone. Sure.”

“Great, you do that,” you said and he squeezed at your arm in an assuring manner before walking away from you. You took a deep breath, your heart beating in your throat before you nodded at Benedict.

“Come with me?” you asked and made your way through the crowd with Benedict following you. You both left the ballroom and you climbed the stairs, then turned left and opened the first door which turned out to be one of the guest rooms. Benedict stepped inside after you, then closed the door behind him and put his hands in his pockets after a pause, clearing his throat.

“So?” he said, his voice completely calm. “What is happening?”

You heaved a sigh and ran a hand over your face.

“My uh…my father sent a letter,” you managed to say and Benedict frowned.

“To you?”

“No, to my uncle,” you motioned outside vaguely. “He talks about wanting to host Teddy for the rest of the season, which will not happen by the way, over my dead body,” you added in a haste. “It’s just a trick to ask for more money from my uncle, at least that’s what he says.”

Benedict nodded. “And they’re coming here?”

“It was implied on the letter,” you murmured, biting inside your cheek. “But my uncle thinks they won’t.”

“And you?”

You could feel your whole body stiffening and it was so familiar to you that it made you scoff, then you shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you said curtly. “Father didn’t send another letter.”

“But why wouldn’t you tell me earlier? When did—” he stopped talking as a look of realization dawned on his face, making you shift your weight.

“That’s what you were going to tell me,” he said slowly. “Earlier.”

You pressed your lips together, fixing your gaze on the wall as you crossed your arms.

“That’s why you…” Benedict let out a breath, nodding his head. “Now it makes sense. You wanted to tell me, and I was at a party.”

That familiar feeling of defenselessness sent a shiver down your spine, making you frown before you cleared your throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said almost stoically. “It’s fine.”

“Y/N, I’m really sorry—”

“No need to be,” you cut him off, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sinking in your stomach as you rubbed at your wrist, his eyes following your movements. “We don’t even need to talk about this really.”

“I think we do.”

“We do not.” You shook your head, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “I’m fine.”

“If they come here—”

“I can handle it,” you interrupted him again and rolled your shoulders back. “It’s fine. I don’t need—I can handle it, even if they do come here. I don’t need anyone’s help, I’m fine.”

That soft light appeared in his eyes and he stepped closer to you to pull you into his arms, heaving a sigh.

“Oh my stubborn girl…” he murmured into your hair, his hand cradling the back of your head as you rested your forehead on his chest. His other arm snaked around your waist and you felt the stiffness of your muscles relax slowly, almost melting into his touch. The music coming from downstairs slowly washed away from your ears as your hearing became muffled and you felt the tears rushing to your eyes, making your whole body tense up again. You took a shaky breath and pulled away from him even if you wanted nothing more than just stay there in his embrace forever, then you ran a hand over your face.

“Are you alright?” his voice was gentle and you nodded.

“Yeah I just don’t—I don’t do that anymore.”

“Do what?”

“That whole crying nonsense,” you rasped out, blinking back the tears as you went to sit down on the bed. A silence fell upon the room before he approached you, and crouched down to look at you while you played with the ring around your finger, your gaze growing distant as you found yourself lost in thought until you heard his voice.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Why not tell me afterwards?”

You shrugged your shoulders, nibbling on your lip.

“We weren’t on best terms,” you muttered. “I could not.”

A gentle smile curled his lips and he entwined his fingers with yours, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as if trying to assure you.

“No matter what happens between us,” he insisted. “No matter what, I will always protect you. Nothing could change that.”

It felt as if someone was squeezing at your heart inside your chest but you managed to find your voice.

“Benedict, if they do come here…” you trailed off and he shook his head.

“Even if they do, nothing will happen,” he said, his voice determined. “I promised you, remember? No one will touch a hair on your head, ever.”

You dragged your gaze to his as you swallowed thickly, then nodded. For a moment, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat, the desire rushing through you. If you leaned in just a little to brush your lips against his, you could—

Your head whipped around as the sound of what was probably a vase falling down to floor and smashing reached inside and you heard Andrew’s laugh and Felix shushing him before someone slammed a door down the hallway. That was enough to snap you out of the haze you were in and you pulled back, blinking a couple of times to focus.

“Can we, um…” you muttered and Benedict seemed to understand what you were going to ask.

“Back home or back to the ball?”

“It’d be rude to Bess if we went home, we must stay,” you said as he stood up but you didn’t let go of his hand and stood up as well. You gave him a small smile, swinging your hands absentmindedly and Benedict raised your hand to press a chaste kiss on it, then shot you that lopsided grin of his.

“Would you spare me another dance, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

The simple joke made you feel as if that heaviness in your chest was lifted off, letting you breathe again. A giggle escaped from your lips and before you fixed a serious expression on your face, pretending to consider it for a second.

“I suppose I can,” you mused in an airy manner and tugged at his hand to lead him to the door. “You are quite easy on the eye after all.”

Chapter 33

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

780 notes · View notes

pinchofhoney · 3 months

Text

perfectly flawed

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

word count: 2.7k

warning: hurt without comfort, it might be suggestive but there's nothing inappropriate about it (friends with benefits but without any details)

summary: Finding love as a princess comes with its challenges, but becoming a mistress was never part of the plan.

a/n: two things; one, over these few months i forgot what it's like to write something that isn't an academic paper. two, in the process of writing it i forgot that i was supposed to write it based on a song. i suppose i'm already a different person than i was just the week ago when i asked you for your opinion, but regardless, feel welcome to read this,, thing<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

London, 18th April 1814

Dearest Readers,

The Season has barely begun, yet the glittering ballrooms of London are already abuzz with whispers and speculation. The cause of this fervour? None other than the captivating niece of Her Majesty. The fairy-like young lady, whose arrival in London coincided with the Season’s beginning, has ignited a flurry of theories.

Is she a princess, a countess, or perhaps a secret agent on a mission? The whispers echo through the salons, each speculation more imaginative than the last. Her regal bearing and the way she holds her fan hint at noble lineage, but her eyes hold secrets that defy easy classification. Could she be a pawn in a political game, or does her purpose lie closer to matters of the heart? Suitors line up, eager to claim her hand, but our debutante remains an unknown figure, casting doubt upon the intentions behind her smile.

Gentlemen of distinction have flocked to her side, vying for her attention. Lord Pembroke, the dashing heir to a vast estate, has been seen trailing her like a devoted puppy. The Duke of Ashford, brooding and aloof, has deigned to engage her in conversation. And then there is Captain Sinclair, whose sea-green eyes promise both danger and adventure.

At Lady Featherington's soirée, our young lady engaged in spirited conversation with none other than Miss Eloise Bridgerton. Their conversation delved into matters of politics—a most unconventional choice. Is our French princess a revolutionary sympathizer, or does she simply relish the thrill of intellectual sparring?

Rest assured, dear readers, that Lady Whistledown shall be your faithful guide through the twists and turns of this unfolding narrative. Prepare your fans and polish your silver spoons, for the London Season has just begun, and in the shadow of the Queen's niece, our world is poised to be turned upside down. Society must brace itself for a whirlwind of speculation, as we stand on the brink of a most intriguing chapter.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

‎

At the very core of the French Empire, you were raised as the epitome of grace and subtlety. With royal blood coursing through your veins, you were groomed to be the perfect lady, the jewel of the imperial court. Every step you took, every word you said, was a careful composition, painting the portrait of an eminent lineage.

From a young age, you were taught the art of etiquette, your days filled with lessons on poise, embroidery, and the subtle language of the fan. Your attire, always impeccable, was the evidence of your status and breeding. The world perceived you as the embodiment of perfection, a delicate blossom requiring protection from the harsh realities beyond the palace walls.

Yet, behind the facade of the devoted princess, a secreted truth blossomed. Beneath the tangled layers of silk and lace, your spirit, unyielding and untamed, stood in defiance of the expectations of courtly life. The allure of royal grandeur held little sway over you, and the burden of societal obligations felt like a daily donning of a suffocating corset.

The shimmering balls and elaborate rituals became stifling, making your heart to ache for those fleeting moments of genuine connection, uncontrolled laughter, and a subtle taste of the forbidden. Although French suitors eagerly fought for your attention and the allure of your family's wealth, your soul yearned for a partner who would daringly challenge the scripted norms, infusing romance with a breath of spontaneous authenticity.

And thus, to address your reluctance to accept the prearranged path, your mother came up with a plan. Sending you to the splendour of London under the watchful eye of the Queen, your beloved aunt, she hoped this change of scenery would guide you towards a dutiful marriage, in line with the expectations befitting your royal lineage. What slipped out of her seemingly perfect idea, however, was the playful nature of fate, particularly when guided by those who avoid predictability. So, your journey to the bustling heart of British metropolis grew with an outcome greatly different from your mother's expectations.

Your aunt, holding the most esteemed position in the United Kingdom, was admired for her wisdom and understanding. But the hours of lessons imparted to you from an early age, combined with your ability to conceal your rebellious nature from the public eye, had transformed you into a pretty great actress. And your performance, crafted over the years, was so convincing that even someone as sharp as the Queen herself failed to see through the carefully constructed act.

But perhaps, this time, you've got too close to the edge, because in the blink of an eye, you found yourself entangled in a situation that, if exposed, would not only scandalize all of England but also cast a shadow over France, where your family hopefully awaited news of your impending marriage.

And how did it all start?

The beginning of your tale remains in the memories of that fateful debutante ball, where a single innocent look changed the course of your luck. It was a brief moment, a shared exchange of glimpse between you and Benedict Bridgerton, that seemed to stretch time itself. In the glimmer of that ballroom, his bright eyes locked onto yours from across the room, and the world around you seemed to slow, as if giving space for something beyond a mere glance.

You had no idea what captivated you about the man who didn't really stand out among the other attendees, but most likely it was this quiet strength of his gaze. The gaze without the typical fascination you'd grown used to as a princess of the French Empire or the usual envy that flickered in the eyes of those desperate to secure a partner who determined their life's worth. Benedict's gaze was just different. It held no trace of the thought that you were merely a silly princess with a title. It carried the feeling that you were a masterpiece, a creation worthy of admiration. And it stirred a yearning within you, an insatiable thirst for freedom and authenticity that your heart had craved for so long.

A brief exchange of words with Benedict at the ball opened your eyes, making you believe that not every man who sought your company was doing so only for your family's wealth. As you danced together, his touch ignited a spark, a fleeting moment of intimacy that lingered long after the music faded into the night, and each stolen glance exchanged across the crowded ballroom carried the weight of unspoken desires. It felt as though the connection that binds soulmates was about to disappear when your paths crossed, signalling that you had, finally, found one another.

And so, it began. A secret affair that grew under the cloak of darkness, far from the prying eyes of nosy socialites waiting to catch a glimpse of scandal. In the hidden corners of London, where shadows whispered secrets and the night sky painted a canvas of stars, you found comfort in the arms of Benedict, a man not necessarily burdened by the weight of societal expectations, yet bound by his own hesitation to commit to anything beyond the present moment.

As the inappropriate meetings became routine, you assumed the role of a mistress, a position you never imagined yourself in, and the only rule you committed to follow during your secret dates was the lack of romantic feelings. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of emotional distance, your heart had a way of defying logic. With each stolen moment spent in Benedict's company, you found yourself drawn deeper into the labyrinth of emotions, a labyrinth fraught with longing and desire. What started as a simple agreement, devoid of romantic sentiments, soon evolved into something far more sincere.

And it genuinely scared you.

You walked nervously around the place of your every rendezvous with Benedict, your fingers nervously picking the cuticles near your nail—a gesture unsuitable for the lady you were expected to be. But in the fuss of events that have happened in London so far, such a thing seemed a minor violation. Not only did the task of slipping unnoticed from the royal palace grew increasingly difficult, but the relentless fluttering in your heart at the mere thought of Bridgerton haunted your sleepless nights.

Throughout your life, you had yearned for a love different from the one you had observed in French society. And now, when the opportunity to live your fairy tale presented itself, reality proved to be just an unrequited feeling. While you were happy to see Benedict and yearned for his presence, it seemed he may only crave your body, not the depths of your soul.

You wanted today's meeting to be the last one, a meeting where nothing would happen. Or so you convinced yourself. The purpose was clear: to say goodbye to Benedict and to draw the curtain on a relationship built on fleeting glances and secret meetings. And even though probably the best choice would have been to just stop showing up on these encounters and withdrawing from public spaces where you might cross paths, you didn't want to just pretend that nothing had ever happened between you two. The social season was still around you, and avoiding the consequences of your actions would only complicate everything. Maybe not for Benedict, but for you, for sure.

And then, the silence broken every second by your anxious heartbeat was completely shattered by the sound of footsteps. Turning, you were met with the sight of Benedict Bridgerton approaching with firm strides, and his presence seemed to overshadow your plans to say goodbye when, for a moment, the world seemed to pause as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and his touch sent pleasant shivers down your spine. The warmth of his embrace, coupled with the subtle brush of his breath against your skin, stirred conflicting emotions within you. Your heart quickened its pace, betraying the reason you came for this final meeting.

“I've been thinking about you all day,” Benedict whispered, and his breath caressed your delicate skin. But as much as the desire for intimacy flickered within, you held steadfast to the resolution you had set for this meeting.

With a gentle pull, you extricated yourself from his embrace, creating a safe distance between the two of you. The tingling sensation stayed on your skin, as a remaining echo of his touch that resonated through every fibre of your being. “We need to talk,” you said, your voice steadier than your racing heart. Benedict's eyes, once filled with a yearning, now searched yours for an answer to an as yet unspoken question.

“Talk?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of playful intrigue as he arched one of his eyebrows with his signature smile dancing upon his lips. “About what?” he pressed, and with an air of casual confidence, he crossed his arms over his chest as he ambled a few steps to the side. “You're not going to tell me you've fallen in love, are you, princess?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from within, escaping between your lips before you could hold it back. In an attempt to mirror Benedict's movements, you crossed your arms over your chest, your head shaking with feigned amusement. “Fall in love?” you repeated his words, adopting a tone of playful dismissal. “Don't be ridiculous, of course not,” you declared, adding a scoff at the end, as if to fortify the illusion of light-hearted banter. Hoping to shield your true feelings, now concealed beneath a facade of amusement, you met Benedict's gaze with a look of mock disbelief.

“We should end this relationship,” the words spilled from your lips, hoping your voice wouldn't betray how fast your heart was beating at that moment. “I did not come to London to become just another woman in the arms of the Viscount's son. If my mother were to find out, she'd blame herself for raising me poorly, and that's not the truth,” you began to rationalize, your words flowing as an attempt to justify the decision you had set before both of you. “I have obligations to fulfil, a path to follow, and I won't achieve that by sleeping with you.”

Benedict watched you in silence, not knowing if you were serious. His gaze bore into you, seeking answers within the depths of your eyes.

“Now you're the one being ridiculous,” he retorted, his tone carrying a gentle scolding. Leaning against a nearby counter, he looked at you with a combination of disbelief. “Since when have you cared so deeply about living up to your mother's expectations?”

“I've come to understand that my mother wants what she believes is best for me. As a princess of the French Empire, there are certain expectations I must meet, whether I appreciate them or not,” you said, closing the physical distance between yourself and Benedict. Self-control was what kept your hands from reaching out as you stopped just in front of him. “Think about what would happen if our secret were to be exposed. It would be the end for both of us, and the scandal would echo across the entire continent. The Queen herself would likely seek our demise.” You emphasized your words by pointing a finger at yourself. “I cannot ruin the honour of the entire royal family for a fleeting moment of pleasure.”

Benedict met your gaze with a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words, yet beneath the veneer of understanding, a flicker of defiance danced in his eyes. “So, what are you saying? You're suddenly prepared to sacrifice your entire life for the expectations of your family that would see you married and bearing children with some man who would likely make you miserable?” he asked, a trace of frustration evident in his voice.

A moment of silence ensued as you fixed your gaze on Benedict. Finally, a disbelieving scoff escaped your lips, and you shook your head. Taking a few steps away, you placed your hands on your hips, a gesture mirroring the internal conflict within you. “Perhaps you haven't noticed yet, Benedict, but I am a woman. And in a world dictated by the whims of men, the role assigned to women is often reduced to that of an obedient wife, tasked with bringing some affluent man's heir into the world. It's not about what I want; it's about what everyone else around me expects.”

As Benedict made a move to step closer, a surge of urgency propelled you to speak before he could interject. “I should be going now. The palace servants are growing increasingly suspicious.”

Despite the assertiveness in your tone, Benedict, keen to the nuances of unspoken emotions, closed the physical gap between you, and his touch went through the delicate fabric of your glove as he gently took your hand. “We can at least end this in a better way,” he suggested, his voice tinged with a suggestive undertone as he met your gaze.

A resolute “No” escaped your lips, infused with an overt firmness born out of the fear that another moment in his gaze might make you give in to your heart's desires. You couldn't afford the risk of surrendering to the tempting pull of his lips once again, the very lips you yearned for. “That's all I wanted to tell you today,” you continued, gently squeezing his hand as if to punctuate your resolve. Purposefully avoiding his gaze, you added, “It's over, but know that every meeting with you has been a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton. Goodbye.” Articulated so, you withdrew your hand from Benedict's grasp, leaving only the delicate glove in his hold.

With a swift spin, you turned away and your hurried footsteps carrying you out into the rain-soaked streets of London. A quick glance confirmed the absence of prying eyes, making you hasten your pace, putting distance between yourself and the building that housed your shattered heart. As you took each step, the words exchanged at that moment of parting reverberated in your mind. The relation between you and Benedict had ignited sparks of passion and left a sweet ache of longing. Now, the path ahead led you towards the marriage your family desired, a hopeful step to fill the void left by thoughts of Bridgerton.

242 notes · View notes