pocket sized princess

"No one will dare complain since you are our most esteemed guest," Daphne said, giving Eloise a pointed gaze. "Please, go ahead."

When the Bridgerton's had, collectively, mentioned a game of pall mall - whatever that was - Y/N was dubious. But at the evil glint in the eye of Lord Bridgerton at his younger brother, Y/N simply had to join in.

Anything to antagonise the viscount.

Y/N hardly knew the man but in the short time she had known him, he'd driven her mad. Perhaps some of Y/N's hatred towards the viscount was because of the assumptions she'd made of the man over the years.

A Capital R rake was never to be trusted. Besides, as she reached her fourth year out in society, Y/N was running out of time to find a husband. She didn't have time to run around flirting and playing with men who weren't ready to commit.

Or men who weren't looking for a love match. Lord Bridgerton.

Y/N stepped forward, looking at the mallets. They were all worn and looked tired after years of use and, presumably, abuse. Her eyes went directly to the black mallet - the only dark colour in the otherwise pastel set. She glanced at Lord Bridgerton and noticed how his gaze was fixed on the mallet.

So, she walked up and pulled it out of the box.

The shocked gasps from the rest of the family and the glare he gave her told Y/N she had, in fact, chosen well.

"Well, would you look at that, brother," Benedict said, grinning at Anthony.

Anthony's jaw was tense. "Shut up."

"Can the rest of us choose now?" Eloise asked, looking around.

No one moved. Then, Eloise darted forward and snatched up the yellow mallet, ignoring Colin's complaints. Benedict snatched the dark blue one whilst Daphne grabbed the purple one. Colin reluctantly took the orange one and, after glaring at it, Anthony took the pink one.

"To the field of combat!" Daphne exclaimed, holding her mallet up high as if it was a sword.

Y/N laughed and followed after them, keen to see the Bridgerton's in action. "I dare say, Your Grace," Y/N said, catching up with Daphne, "I am not entirely sure how to play this game."

"Well, firstly, please call me Daphne. Secondly, if you want my advice," Daphne said, walking alongside Y/N, down to the start of the course, "I'd focus on Eloise. She is so focused on trying to beat her brothers that she will forget we're here. Benedict's aim isn't the best, but he is good at hitting far. Colin is a cheeky player - he will sacrifice his own go to hit someone else's ball."

"And Lord Bridgerton?" Y/N asked, glancing over at Anthony.

"He is a fierce player who does not like to lose. This makes him the perfect target - all it takes is one whack of your ball against his and he will be off his game the rest of the match. He likes revenge."

"I gathered that," Y/N murmured, remembering how much Anthony wanted to murder Colin at the ball a few weeks back.

"I myself will not reveal any secrets," Daphne continued. "But I will say this - Bridgerton pall mall is more about sabotaging your opponent than it is getting the ball through the wickets."

Y/N nodded, smiling. "Understood."

The game started fairly calmly. It wasn't until they got to the sixth wicket did the chaos start. Colin aimed his ball at Eloise's and whacked it, knocking Eloise's ball wide and almost down the hill. Eloise gaped at her brother and nearly swung her mallet at him. Anthony stepped in, a hand on his sister's arm, as she was mid-swing.

Y/N didn't try anything too cheeky until two wickets later. Anthony's ball rolled into her path and Y/N seized her opportunity. She glanced over at Anthony, smirking slightly, as she readied her shot.

Anthony seemed to realise and gasped, turning to her. "Miss Elliot, don't you dare -"

Y/N whacked her ball at Anthony's, sending it flying down the hill and to the lake's edge. She laughed, swinging her mallet around in delight as Colin and Benedict chuckled evilly at their brother's misfortune.

"Excellent shot, Miss Elliot!" Benedict said, beaming. He patted Anthony on the back. "Well, I guess we shall see you later, brother. Daff, your turn."

Daphne strolled over to her ball. She crouched down, eyeing the ground and the wickets. As she stood up, Y/N caught the glint in her eye and knew, instantly, what she was about to do.

"No, Daphne, don't -"

Daphne smacked her ball into Y/N's, knocking it down the hill in the same direction Anthony's ball had gone moments before.

Anthony looked as if he wanted to hit his sister. Or strangle her, one of the two.

"Right, well then, we'll see you two in a bit then," Daphne said, turning around, holding her mallet in both hands, smiling happily.

Anthony clenched his jaw tightly. He gestured for Y/N to move first, barely making eye contact with her. Y/N held her head high and marched past him, heading down the hill.

She could see the lake at the bottom of the hill and had a sudden, sinking feeling that she was about to get wet.

"My brother and sister do love to antagonise me," Anthony muttered, walking down the hill at a brisk pace. "We lost the red ball to this lake a few years back."

"Who's fault was that?" Y/N asked, glancing at him.

Anthony turned and smirked slightly. "Mine."

They'd both stopped on the edge of the lake, searching for any sign of the pink and black balls.

"Oh, dash it," Anthony said, staring straight ahead.

"What?"

He leant closer to Y/N and pointed to the shallows of the lake where two balls sat, stuck in the wet sand.

"We could just move them," Y/N suggested. "No one will know."

"But I will," Anthony replied, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N scoffed, watching as Anthony walked down onto the bank of the lake, his boots instantly being covered in sand. After a moment, Y/N followed after him, skidding slightly on the wet sand. She reached out for the closest thing to her - which just happened to be Anthony's arm.

"Apologies, my Lord," Y/N said, quickly letting go of his arm.

"It's fine."

The two of them stood there and stared at the balls, debating how best to get to the balls.

"Right then," Y/N said, throwing her mallet up in the air slightly and then catching it again.

She took a step forward into the water, feeling it begin to seep through the soles of her satin shoes. Y/N tilted her mallet back and then swung forward, whacking her ball out of the lake and onto the grass bank.

Y/N smiled smugly at Anthony, gesturing for him to take his turn. Anthony stomped down to the river, his boots sinking into the sand, and stood next to her. He swung his mallet back and hit his ball, sending it onto the grass, next to the black ball.

Anthony turned to look at her and shook his head cockily - reminding Y/N slightly of a peacock.

Y/N went to take a step forward but found her feet were stuck in the sand, sinking each time she tried to move.

"I am stuck," she announced, looking at Anthony.

"Pardon?" Anthony asked, turning around to face her.

Y/N gestured to the floor. "My feet are stuck."

"Are you serious?"

"Believe me, Lord Bridgerton, if I didn't require your assistance I would not be asking for it."

Anthony sighed heavily and dropped his mallet onto the floor, marching back down onto the edge of the lake and taking Y/N's arm, standing behind her.

He pulled her as she managed to free her right foot. Y/N then went to put her right foot down on a slightly firmer piece of sand but it got tangled up in the long hem of her dress. With her left foot stuck in the sand still, Y/N flailed about, losing her balance entirely. She squeaked as she fell backwards, pulling Anthony with her.

Y/N landed on top of Anthony, flinching as the water began to seep through her clothes and onto her skin. For a moment, they both awkwardly laid there in the lake, Y/N on top of Anthony, Anthony with his arm still around Y/N's waist.

Anthony grunted in disgust, flicking his hand free of sand. He pushed Y/N upright and he sat up, looking around him. Anthony glanced at Y/N, who was struggling not to laugh, and glared.

"It is not funny!" He snapped.

"I am not laughing," Y/N said - although she clearly wanted to.

Y/N turned her head, looking at Anthony. He met her gaze and a smile instantly appeared as he giggled. Y/N found herself letting out a breathy laugh, ducking her head to avoid looking at Anthony.

"Well, at least we did not lose the balls to the lake this year," Anthony said, standing up. "Miss Elliot, I take it your feet are now free?"

Y/N chuckled. "Yes, Lord Bridgerton, they are."

Anthony held out a hand to her. Y/N reached up and gripped it, the water making it harder to grip. Anthony pulled her to her feet and Y/N quickly hopped onto the firmer sand.

A cheer errupted from somewhere up the hill and Anthony sighed wistfully.

"I bet you that Daff has won - again," Anthony muttered. He turned to Y/N. "Miss Elliot, I do apologise for our trip into the lake."

"It is fine, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, holding the wet hem of her dress up as she climbed onto the grass bank.

Anthony followed her up. "I do hope this adventure has helped break the ice between us - I fear we got off on the wrong foot."

Y/N paused. "Part of that is my fault, I suspect," she admitted, bending down and picking up her ball. "I may have made some assumptions about you."

"Everyone does. Lady Whistledown does not help."

Y/N looked at him. "Are the rumours she writes not true, then?"

Anthony exhaled slowly. "No. No, some of them are true."

"Such as the one about you being a Rake with a capital R who is now conveniently looking for a wife?"

"You appear to have heard a lot of things," Anthony said, leaning on his mallet.

Y/N shrugged. "I have been out in society for four years, my Lord... I do know some things."

"Ah, so you are one of the young chits who fell for me when they made their debuts?"

"Young chits?" Y/N repeated, staring at him in disbelief. "It is hardly my fault I was forced to talk to you by my mama."

"Well, perhaps if you, along with the other young ladies in the ton, were more interesting and could hold a conversation, we would have gotten along better -"

"Do you realise how rude you sound?" Y/N snapped. "You just assume you know what I am like based on a conversation we had three years ago when I was a debutante who knew nothing better than what had been installed in her by society?"

Anthony faltered, clearly realising he'd overstepped. "Miss Elliot -"

"No, Lord Bridgerton, you have made your thoughts very clear. I thank you for your assistance - I am going to retire to my room now."

Anthony watched Y/N walk up the hill and back to the house, leaving him alone. He sighed, swearing quietly at his stupidity. Anthony bent down and picked up her mallet and ball, wishing he could go back a few minutes.

No matter how hard she tried, Y/N could not sleep the following night. There was no reason, sleep simply just wouldn't come. After rolling over for the fifth time, she flung back the covers and sat up in the bed, sighing softly.

It was raining gently outside, the sound of thunder gradually getting closer as the rain hardened. It was a hot summer night in the middle of July and the rain was a welcome thing.

Y/N grabbed her shawl and a candle and headed out of her room. She had yet to explore Aubery Hall properly. Whilst she didn't want to trespass into the Bridgerton's private rooms, she wanted to see more of the house Anthony so clearly adored.

Her exploration took her down the stairs and into a very impressive library, full of leather-bound books. She set the candle down on the table in the centre of the room, letting it illuminate the room gently.

Y/N walked over to the walls of shelves, running a hand along the spines. She'd never seen such an extensive, beautiful collection of books before. Whoever was responsible for the library had a stunning collection of Shakespeare as well as every Jane Austen novel. Y/N pulled out a copy of Emma, carefully opening it and scanning the first page.

The door to the library creaked, the light coming in from the corridor growing. Y/N's head shot up and she saw Anthony, half-hiding behind the door. He was wearing his dress shirt and trousers, the top three buttons undone. His suspenders hung down by his sides and he had no shoes on. There was a bizarre sense of vulnerability, seeing him so undressed and calm.

"My apologies, Miss Elliot," Anthony said softly, ducking his head. "I saw a light and I was checking I did not leave a candle on."

"It's only me," Y/N replied, stepping away from the ladder. "I can go -"

"No, please... stay."

Anthony hesitated, hovering in the doorway, one hand on the edge of the door. After a moment, he walked in to the library, gently walking up to Y/N.

"Do you mind?" He asked, holding out a hand for the book.

"Not at all."

Y/N handed him the book, her bare fingers brushing his for a moment. She pulled her shawl up and over her chest, the fringe edging tickling her skin as it trickled down.

"My youngest sisters insisted I buy these," Anthony said, running a hand over the cover of the book, his signet ring glinting in the candlelight. "They wanted me to continue our father's library."

"This was your father's library?" Y/N asked softly.

"It was. He always made sure to include things we all enjoyed. There are books on painting for Benedict, travel guides for Colin - embroidery for Daphne and Francesca." Anthony looked up at the room. "There is something for everyone in my family in here."

"You continued the tradition?"

"I try. It's difficult since we spend more time in London than here. Eloise and Hyacinth insisted on Jane Austen being added to the collection."

"Have you ever read them?"

Anthony chuckled. "Sadly, I do not have enough time to read anymore. I wish I did, however."

Y/N looked at him intently. "If you do not mind me asking... how did your father die?"

Anthony sighed heavily. He smiled sadly. "He was stung by a bee. I had just returned from school when I heard Eloise screaming in the gardens. It was quite something to see a man as great as my father felled by such a small creature."

"How old were you?"

"I was just eighteen. I knew nothing about being a viscount or running estates... my father died before he could teach me everything."

"How did you cope?"

"I didn't," Anthony said, chuckling softly. "You've read the stories and the rumours. It was only last year that I realised that, out of duty to my family, I need to settle down and sort things out."

"Find a wife, you mean," Y/N said.

"Yes." He sighed, closing his eyes. "It's not as simple as simply finding a wife."

"Then explain it to me," Y/N told him softly. She reached out and put a tentative hand on his.

"After my father died... my mother was barely there. She does not remember any of it, not truly. I, however, remember every single moment. I could never..." Anthony trailed off, his voice catching. "I could never be the cause of such pain. No matter how cold-hearted and cruel everyone else may find me to be."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes full of understanding. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Has anyone ever loved you as Anthony Bridgerton and not Viscount Bridgerton?"

"I do not believe they are two separate entities. They are one and the same."

"I don't agree." Anthony looked at her sharply. "Anthony Bridgerton is standing in front of me right now. He was in front of me this afternoon in the gardens and in the lake. Viscount Bridgerton was at the balls and the parties. Anthony is you, right now. Maybe you should try and find a way to separate the two."

Y/N give him a small smile. She held her hand out for the book and Anthony handed it back to her, his fingers lingering over hers for a moment.

"Good night, my lord," Y/N said softly.

Y/N exhaled, puffing out her cheeks. She unconsciously pushed her hair pins back into her hair as she looked around the room, watching intently.

Her time as a young woman, desperate for dancing had long gone and now she preferred to stand on the edges of the dance floor amongst the chaperones and mothers.

No one looked at her twice and it was just how she liked it. Y/N had long accepted that she wasn't going to find love from the most eligible suitors in the ton. Instead, she had turned to the older gentleman - the military men, the business owners with enough money to buy most of London.

She wasn't looking for a true love match. But rather someone she could love and could be friends with as time went on. She just wanted someone to look at her as a human being instead of potential wife material.

The people around her started muttering, all eyes turning away from the dance. Y/N followed them and stood to attention as Anthony walked over to her, his eyes set firmly on her and her alone.

"Miss Elliot," Anthony said, bowing.

"Lord Bridgerton."

"I trust you are enjoying your evening?" Anthony asked, his hands still clasped behind his back.

"I am, indeed, thank you for asking. Your mother is an incredible host."

"She prides herself on being able to host a good ball," Anthony said, moving closer to Y/N. "Forgive me if I am being impertinent but I do not believe I have seen you on the dance floor, Miss Elliot."

"Because I have not been asked for a dance, Lord Bridgerton - which is just how I like it," she added quickly.

"Would you make an exception for a viscount?" Anthony asked softly, lowering his voice so just she could hear him.

Y/N looked at him. "I would make an exception for Mr Bridgerton."

Anthony gave her a genuine smile, holding out his hand to her. "Miss Elliot, will you accept Mr Bridgerton's offer to dance?"

Y/N placed her hand into his, gripping his fingers. "I will, Mr Bridgerton."

As the other dancers began walking to the centre of the dance floor, Anthony led Y/N to the back corner of the floor. It was away from the main eyes of the ton yet still allowed them to dance together.

The strings began to play and Anthony gently guided Y/N into the dance, both of them swaying backwards and forwards. He spun her, Y/N's gloved fingers still gripping his hand, high above their heads.

Their arms lowered and Anthony put his hands on her waist as she placed hers on his arm. One step backwards and they were waltzing with everyone else, all dancing in synch.

"I want to apologise for the other day," Anthony said quietly, his lips near Y/N's ear so she could hear him over the music.

"I was out of line, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N replied, letting him release her and then turn her around.

"No, you were not. You were correct with everything you said. My own arrogance and bad experiences resulted in my prejudice. Not every young lady is uneducated and simply a pretty face."

"I think you will find that a lot of young women enjoy reading and writing," Y/N said softly. "They are just seen by society as the outcasts."

"Indeed - much like my sister, Eloise."

Y/N spun to face him, stepping backwards. "What is it?"

"I also wanted to thank you," Anthony replied. "For too long I have lived in my father's shadow. The viscount took over me and I forgot what I, myself wanted. Being able to acknowledge that they are two different things helped. So, thank you."

"You are very welcome, my lord."

"You are also the first person who has ever seen me as just Anthony. As much as I adore my family, they see only an older brother who is the head of the family. It is rare that I can just be myself. The first time we met, you threw my off my guard, wanting to see anyone else other than the viscount."

"Oh, is that why you were so rude to me?"

"Again, I apologise. I have never been good at communicating emotions. I tend to hide them until they boil over. But, you, Miss Elliot, tore down every wall I have ever built."

Y/N ducked under his arm and then turned around. "I do hope that is a good thing."

"It is. But it is also why it has taken me until now, until this very moment, in fact, to realise that I am completely and utterly in love with you.”

Y/N stopped. She stared at Anthony, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. "Pardon me?"

"I apologise if it is too sudden or if I have overstepped," Anthony said quickly, "but when I am with you, I do not have to hide behind my titles. I am simply Anthony. And that is something I did not know I wanted or needed. Not until you made it so clear to me."

The music ended, the last few notes playing out into the crowded room. Y/N belatedly remembered to curtsey to Anthony as the dancers filed off the floor.

"I need some air," Y/N said, turning on her heel.

She weaved through the crowds and walked out onto the patio, relishing the cool air on her skin.

"Miss Elliot, if I have overstepped, I apologise -"

"No, it is not that," Y/N told him, turning to face Anthony. "I just... the reason I see you as just Anthony and nothing else is because... that is all I have ever wanted. Every suitor that comes to my door, no matter how kind and caring they are, never cares to see Y/N. They just want to know if I would be a good wife and mother. No one ever makes the time to get to know me."

"If I have ever made you feel that way -"

"That is the thing, though... you haven't. Never once have I felt that you only cared about me fitting your requirements. Whilst I'm sure other women did... I did not. I felt... feel, as if I can be Y/N. I do not have to pretend to be something I am clearly not."

Anthony was looking at her with such intrigue and kindness it almost made her cry. Never, not once, had a suitor listened to her as much as he had. Never once had they even bothered to care about her as a person.

And now, there was someone who did. Someone who did care - even if they were a reformed Rake.

"Miss Elliot, I am aware that this may be too sudden but... I would very much like to get to know you better."

Y/N smiled gently. "You're not just going to propose to me here and now?"

"I could. But I want to get to know Y/N Elliot first. I want to know what makes her smile and what makes her cry."

He was inches away from her now. Anthony reached out his hand, his fingers brushing against hers. Y/N inhaled sharply at the contact, her skin quickly being covered in goosebumps.

She rolled her eyes, placing her hands back on his waist and taking two steps back, two steps left. Anthony guided her around the room, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Has anyone caught your eye, yet?" Y/N asked.

"Much to my mother's displeasure, no. There isn't anyone - they are all so boring. Which, I suppose is a good thing. I merely need to marry someone who is somewhat intelligent."

Y/N stumbled a step. "Marriage?"

"You know, Colin choked on a peanut and Benedict fell of his chair when I told them - why is this such a surprise?"

"Because ever since you came of age you have not stopped talking about how you are not going to marry," Y/N pointed out.

"A man is allowed to change his mind. Even if every young lady out at the moment is a dud."

Y/N giggled, ducking her head as she tried to hide her face. "Anthony," she chided kindly. "Be nice."

"I thought you young ladies were taught to dance - and to at least act intelligent," Anthony grumbled.

Y/N walked around him, taking his hand in hers and pressing her back against his chest as they stepped back and to the side.

"Most mama's value beauty and manners over intelligent conversation," Y/N replied. "To find a well read woman is a rare thing indeed."

"It is even rarer to find a woman who can dance properly."

"Well," Y/N spun to face him, their faces inches apart from one another, "isn't it a good job you have me, then."

Anthony spun her one last time. Y/N moved away and Anthony pulled her back and into a gentle dip as the song concluded. They stepped away from one another and respectively bowed and curtseyed.

"I should go find my mother," Anthony muttered, looking around the ballroom. "Let her introduce me to more young ladies lacking brains."

Y/N smiled at him and scoffed lightly. "At least you get to choose," she said. "Mine has been pushing me at men all week thinking one will propose before we go to Aubery Hall for the week."

Anthony looked at her. "You are coming to Aubery Hall?"

"Received the invite this morning. We arrive a week Friday."

Anthony nodded. He began to smile. "Well, perhaps my mother's ball shan't be as tedious with you around."

"Perhaps not," Y/N replied. She curtsied. "My lord."

Anthony bowed as she stepped away. He watched her go and felt a part of him leave with her. Her perfume lingered and Anthony closed his eyes for a moment, the smell of roses haunting him.

"Anthony!"

Anthony's eyes opened sharply and he turned, forcing a smile to his face as his mother approached him, ushering a young lady along with her.

Y/N tried not to laugh at Anthony's misfortune as he offered another lady a dance, clearly unhappy with the arrangement. A waiter approached her, offering her a glass of champagne.

"I do believe, this is the most expensive champagne I have ever had at a ball."

Y/n turned and immediately curtseyed. "Sir Hughes."

"Miss Y/L/N," he replied. His bow was short and curt.

Sir Hughes was a military man - and a well-decorated one at that. His uniform sparkled in the many candles littering the room. He was tall and long with a moustache that essentially screamed his status in the military.

Y/N had spoken to the man a few times over the years when he'd been in town - her father was a good friend to Sir Hughes' father.

"I was not expecting to see you here, I thought you were still overseas," Y/N said, standing up from her curtsey.

"I was but I was called back to London on important business," Sir Hughes said. "The queen summoned me."

"Ah, well, it is best not to ignore her majesty," Y/N replied.

Sir Hughes laughed and Y/N found herself smiling at him. He looked at her for a moment and she matched his gaze.

"Would you do me the honour of a dance, Miss Y/L/N?" Sir Hughes asked, holding his hand out to her.

Y/N smiled and nodded, taking his offered hand. He gracefully led her onto the dance floor, guiding her around until she stood in front of him.

She'd danced with so many men over her last two seasons out in society, that it truly did not require much brainpower. One step here, a twirl here, a smile there - it all came together. And whilst her suitors may have died down over the years, her dance skills had not.

Most dances occurred out of mere courtesy and rarely meant that the people involved desired to court one another. It was a talent, Y/N had decided, to be able to dance with someone and have no connection with them. To not feel anything as they took your hand and spun you around the room - their eyes solely focused on you, as if you were their entire world in that singular moment.

Y/N had rarely felt anything when dancing. She'd never felt as if she was the centre of someone's universe - she merely orbited in a circle for a bit and then moved on.

"I do hope you forgive me for being so forward, Miss Y/L/N, but are you being courted by anyone at the moment?" Hughes asked, taking a step forward, his hands coming to rest on her arms.

"No, Sir Hughes. I have had many suitors but... none have come to anything," Y/N replied honestly. "I am sure you can imagine how my parents feel."

Hughes chuckled. "I do struggle to understand why you are not yet married, Miss Y/L/N."

Y/N looked at him and smiled sadly. "I have yet to find the one, I believe."

Hughes twirled her around and Y/N spotted Anthony, standing against the wall with his brothers before she faced Hughes again.

"Miss Y/L/N?"

"Yes, Sir Hughes?"

"May I call upon you tomorrow morning? I was planning to attend the exhibition at the national museum and your presence shall improve the experience all the more."

Y/N felt herself smile. "Of course, Sir Hughes. I would be honoured."

"I don't even understand why you are so worked up over it, brother. You have made your opinions on marriage very clear to everyone - including her. You wish not to marry for love, merely for convenience."

Anthony picked up an orange and threw it in the vague direction of Benedict's head.

"I was... painting that. Besides, you hit the shelf, not my head," Benedict muttered, crouching down and picking the orange up, placing it back in the bowl.

"She's too good for him," Anthony replied, picking an apple up and staring at it intently. He sighed, sliding further down in his chair. "Sir Hughes is never even in the country."

"For some women that might be a positive. But, again, you have no interest in marrying. Well, not for love, at least. Unless you have changed your mind..."

Anthony shrugged. "I do not know. To be honest, Benedict, I no longer know what I do and don't want. Mother has shoved every eligible lady my way these last few weeks and whilst the idea of marriage has begun to appeal to me - not because of love but for the practical side of it all - I still do not..."

"Feel ready?" Benedict suggested.

Anthony just grunted, taking a large bite out of the apple. Benedict looked at his brother and sighed. He set his palette down on the table, giving up on his painting for now, and approached the seat opposite Anthony.

Benedict kicked Anthony's feet off the plush chair and sat down in it, stretching his legs out. "Do you love her?"

"I do not know. I do not think..." Anthony hesitated. He dragged a hand down his face. "I do not think I am capable of love, to be honest brother."

"You love us."

"That is different," Anthony replied curtly. "Besides," he add, quietly, "I made a promise to father to look after you all." Anthony sighed, shrugging. "I do not know how to explain it, brother."

Benedict looked at his brother, intently studying his face. "Try me."

Anthony exhaled heavily. "After... after Sienna and the disaster that was Daphne's season I decided that I need to find a wife. To fulfil my duty as head of this family and as a viscount. Trying to find someone I love makes the entire affair far more difficult. All I want is a mother to my children and a wife who will be a good viscountess - that is all. Love just complicates everything."

"That's not the only reason, though, is it?"

Anthony sighed softly and shook his head - the movement barely noticeable. "I remember every waking moment after father's death. I remember the pain, the tears... the lingering sensation of death. Yet, I could not do anything about it. There was nothing to be done. I could not grieve with the rest of you because, if I did, everything would have fallen apart. I refuse... I refuse to inflict that pain on anyone else. I refuse to be the cause of such unbearable, indescribable pain because I decided to love someone."

The clock that sat on the mantlepiece ticked into the silence. Benedict was silent, unable to find any words to fill the void Anthony's confession had left.

"Anyway, I shall leave you to your painting," Anthony said, standing up. He tossed his apple into the air as he left, catching it in one hand and immediately taking a bite out of it.

Aubery Hall was stunning in the setting sun. The walls were bathed in warm orange light and ivy crawled around each window and crevice. Y/N had been here before but it had been many years since she'd last stood at the foot of the stairs, staring up at the building with awe on her face.

"Lady Bridgerton!" Y/N's mother exclaimed, bustling up to their host and embracing her. "Thank you so much for the invitation."

"Oh, it is no bother - I am so glad you could both attend!" Violet replied, beaming.

"I am only sorry my husband was detained - important business that could not be missed, unfortunately."

Y/N looked around the foyer, taking in every single detail. As she lowered her eyes from the ceiling, she spotted Anthony standing to the side of the staircase - evidently hiding - and gave him a smile.

Anthony returned it, nodding his head politely at her.

"It is not a problem. Y/N, dear, it is so good to see you again," Violet said, embracing Y/N tightly, pulling her away from Anthony's gaze.

"You too, Lady Bridgerton. I forgot how beautiful your home is in the summer," Y/N replied, looking around again, noting that Anthony had vanished.

Violet sighed fondly, looking around too. "A lot of work has gone in to it over the years." She turned back to face them, any sign of nostalgia gone. "Come, you must be exhausted from your journey. Mollie, here, will show you to your rooms. Dinner will be at eight should you wish to join."

Mollie began leading the way up the stairs and down the corridors of Aubery Hall. Y/N was just overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the house in the dying light. So much so that, as she turned a corner, she walked straight into one viscount.

"Oh, I am so sorry, my lord," Y/N exclaimed, trying to step back and create space between them but only succeeding in tripping over her dress.

Anthony caught Y/N as she tumbled back. He put a hand on her waist and pulled her forward and up, holding her steady.

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at her.

Y/N looked at him and couldn't help herself as she looked into his eyes. As if she had been hit with a book, Y/N blinked and moved away, aware of how close she had been and the fact her mother, and the maid, were both watching.

"I am perfectly fine, thank you, my lord," Y/N said, feeling her face beginning to warm.

Anthony nodded. "Ladies," he said, bowing.

He moved past her and began walking down the corridor. For some reason, Y/N felt a weird sense of guilt inside her.

"My lord," Y/N called, turning to face Anthony's retreating back. "Shall we see you at dinner tonight?"

Anthony turned midway down the stairs and looked at her, the smallest of smiles appearing. "Yes, Miss Y/L/N, you will."

Y/N's laugh drowned out everything else around him. Anthony watched her, from the end of the table, and stabbed his fork into a carrot with more aggression than needed.

"I am very relieved to not be that carrot," Colin muttered, leaning over to Benedict. "What is his problem?"

Benedict smiled knowinly into his glass. "Y/N and Sir Hughes."

Colin looked over at the two. His mother had not been subtle with the seating plan for that night's dinner. Anthony was surrounded by young, eligible ladies, all lacking brain cells and the ability to hold an intelligent conversation, and Y/N had been placed next to the man she had been rumoured to be courting.

Well, rumour reported in Lady Whistledown that almost certainly meant it was true.

"If he loves her, why does he not do something about it?" Colin asked quietly.

"Brother, I don't think he's realised he does," Benedict replied. "I think he's still waiting for some miracle."

"If he waits much longer, she will go."

Benedict looked over at Y/N and sighed softly. "I know."

The tiny gems embedded in the flowers of her pink gown sparkled in the candlelight. Y/N ran her gloved fingers over them, feeling each petal and each gem.

"You look beautiful, my child," her mother said, standing in the doorway of their room.

Y/N smiled at her in the mirror and dropped her hands down to her sides. "It is a beautiful dress."

"A beautiful dress to get engaged in," her mother said, coming to stand behind her. She put her hands on Y/N's shoulders and kissed her cheeks. "Sir Hughes is a fine man."

"Indeed he is. I shall be very lucky," Y/N replied.

If her mother had not been so caught up in the potential engagement looming, she would have notice how Y/N's heart truly was not in the words she spoke.

Sir Hughes was a gentleman and a lovely one at that. But Y/N did not feel as if she was at the centre of the universe. As if everything orbited around them and no one else.

But given how little time she had left to find a match - and given how much of a burden she felt to her parents - if Sir Hughes did propose, she wasn't going to say no.

Even if there was someone else she wanted.

She did not have the luxury of time. She could not afford to wait any longer than she already had. Her marriage would not be for love. As long as she was happy and safe, that would be all that mattered.

As soon as she stepped onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom, she found him. It was as if she was magnetised to him - unable to look away and to lose him amongst the crowd.

Anthony Bridgerton raised his head and found Y/N looking down on him from the balcony. He locked eyes with her for a moment before she turned away, Sir Hughes appearing at her side.

Y/N looked down at Sir Hughes. He stood on the stairs and held a gloved hand out to her.

"May I have this dance?"

"You may, Sir Hughes."

She placed her gloved hand into his and he led her down the stairs and onto the floor.

Anthony smelt her perfume as she passed and had to hold himself back from pulling her to him. God, the hold this woman had over him.

"She looks stunning," Daphne said, approaching Anthony and standing on his left. She watched as Y/N circled Sir Hughes and came to stand in front of him, her dress sparkling in the candlelight.

"Hmm, I would not know, I am not a woman."

Daphne scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course, my apologies." She paused, debating whether to share what she knew. She sighed softly but Anthony heard her. He looked down at her and narrowed his eyes, concern and curiosity in his gaze.

"Daph, what is it?"

"Sir Hughes -"

"What about him?"

"Nothing bad," Daphne said quickly at Anthony's curt question. "Just... I had that he may be proposing to Y/N tonight," Daphne said quietly. "The grand occasion this ball is - it would be a perfect time."

"Ah," Anthony said softly, the word almost lost to the music. "And Y/N?"

Daphne looked up at him. "I assume she will say yes."

Anthony's head turned sharply. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" Daphne looked up at him. "Brother, you do realise that Y/N, much like the rest of the ladies still out in society, cannot stay unwed forever. If Sir Hughes does propose it means safety and security for her and her future." Daphne looked at him, seeing straight through his walls. "If you want her, I would act fast -"

"When did I ever mention wanting her?" Anthony snapped. "I am merely surprised, is all. Besides, Y/N and I do not share anything. We are merely friends, nothing more. I am after a wife, sister. Not a love match."

Daphne nodded, unconvinced entirely. "Of course. My apologies, brother." Daphne waited a moment, watching as Sir Hughes danced Y/N around the room. "She makes time stop for you, doesn't she?"

"What?"

"You know exactly what I am on about, brother, do not lie. Y/N. She makes time stop when she's around you. She makes you feel like you're the centre of the universe and that no one else matters. That... nothing can break you apart."

Anthony swallowed harshly. His sister had, irritatingly, described the exact feeling. The feeling he felt every time Y/N even just glanced in his direction. Yet, he refused to take her. He refused to subject her, and himself, to such pain when the time came.

"Excuse me, sister."

"Anthony -"

Anthony walked away from his sister, unable to bear the truth in what she was saying. The song ended and Anthony saw Sir Hughes leave Y/N's side - heading for the drinks table.

His feet moved before his brain did.

"Miss Y/L/N," Anthony said, approaching her and bowing in one swift movement.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, slightly stunned by the man's sudden appearance. She curtseyed to him, standing up and meeting his gaze as he looked at her.

"May I have this dance?" Anthony asked, holding out his bare hand to her.

Y/N looked at his offered hand, every instinct inside her telling her to not accept it, to not cause herself any more pain. Instead, she placed her silk gloved hand in his and squeezed it tightly.

"You may, my lord."

Anthony led her to a spot on the floor and both respectively bowed to one another. He took her hands in his and they began moving around the floor, mirroring the actions of the other. Y/N followed his lead, her dress swishing about her feet as she stepped, turned and stepped, avoiding Anthony's feet.

Anthony's bare hand moved to her elbow as he turned behind her, his back pressing against hers. She could feel his fingers brushing against her skin and fought against the tingle that ran down her spine. Y/N turned her head as Anthony turned around, her back pressing agaiainst his chest. She met his gaze as they stepped back, holding on to one another.

Her gloved hand was on her chest and Anthony's hand held it tight, his ring finger brushing the bare skin. Y/N took a shaky breath in, unable to fill her lungs, as she stared into his eyes.

"I hear Sir Hughes is to propose," Anthony said softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N's, even as his foot swept across the floor and she moved with him.

"He may."

"Are you going to accept?"

"Is that any of your business, my lord?" Y/N asked, rather harshly at that.

Anthony's eyes narrowed, a flash of hurt appearing on his face. "No, but my sister mentioned it in passing and I was merely curious. Forgive me."

Y/N sighed softly. Anthony spun her away and then back in to him, their arms raised above their heads as they swayed side to side.

"I am going to, yes," Y/N admitted. "I do not have much choice, in all honesty."

"Whatever makes you say that?" Anthony asked, his brow furrowing.

"I am a burden to my parents, my lord. I am running out of time to find a suitor and I do not have a lot of options left. Sir Hughes is a good man -"

"Do you love him?"

Y/N stumbled a step, Anthony's hand grabbing her waist and preventing her from falling.

"It is not a matter of love," Y/N replied, shaking her head slightly. "Sir Hughes, should he ask me, shall provide me with the safety and security I need."

"But he cannot make you happy, Miss Y/L/N," Anthony argued, his breath hitting the bare skin at the back of her neck.

"No, I will admit that," Y/N said, turning gently, "But I shall not be unhappy. He is a lovely man, my lord, and I -"

"You cannot marry him."

Y/N stopped and stared at Anthony. "Pardon me?"

Anthony sighed, closing his eyes. He curled his fist tightly. "You cannot marry him."

"I just laid out all the reasons I have to marry him and how little choice I have in the matter and yet you," Y/N raised her eyebrows at him as they resumed dancing, "are standing here telling me I cannot marry him. Anthony, you are not my father nor are you, my brother, you have no say in this."

"But he cannot make you happy, Y/N. He cannot fulfil your desires -"

"Oh, and you can?" Y/N snapped. Anthony was silent, which was more than a perfect answer for Y/N. "Lord Bridgerton, up until fairly recently, you have not shown any interest in getting married. You have pushed every woman away, including myself. Why do you think I decided to settle on a friendship with you over a courtship?"

"Miss Y/L/N -"

"Lord Bridgerton, I am a woman living in a society built by men for men. I have no say over what happens in my life. If Sir Hughes proposes, I am accepting because it gives me some sense of control where I have none. I cannot afford to keep waiting for you, Anthony. I tried." Y/N sighed sadly. "Look where it got me."

Anthony spun her away one last time. Their hands were held above their heads as the song ended and they slowly dropped them, the last notes fading into the silence of the room. Y/N curtseyed to Anthony as he stared at her, unable to move.

"I truly am sorry, Lord Bridgerton. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

Y/N walked away from him, her perfume lingering where her presence did not. She made a beeline for the table of drinks, picking up a glass of champagne and drowning it in one go, wincing at the acidic taste in her mouth.

"Apologies, for my absence, Miss Y/L/N," Sir Hughes said, appearing at Y/N's side suddenly. "I was summoned by the queen."

"Oh, do not worry, Sir Hughes, I went to freshen up after our dance," Y/N replied, forcing a smile to her face.

Sir Hughes nodded. "Ah. Um, Miss Y/L/N, might I have a word with you out on the terrace? Your mother is out there with Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury so we shall not be unchaperoned -"

Y/N cut him off. "Of course, Sir Hughes."

She knew what was coming. It had been hanging in the air the entire night - the whispered conversation of those around her with the lingering stares.

Sir Hughes walked her out onto the terrace and Y/N risked a glance at the three women standing nearby, all watching on with undisguised excitement on their faces. Though, Lady Bridgerton looked more regretful than excited.

"Miss Y/L/N," Sir Hughes began. "These last few weeks, spent with you, have been wonderful. You are a truly beautiful woman and I have enjoyed every moment spent in your presence."

Sir Hughes got down on one knee and Y/N could hear the ripples of excitement go through the people outside as they watched on. He pulled out a small velvet box and lifted the lid.

He looked up at her and smiled. "Miss Y/N Y/L/N. Will you marry me?"

"Anthony, what -"

Benedict trailed off as he watched Anthony drown almost an entire bottle of whiskey, slamming the glass down on the table and exhaling heavily.

"She's going to marry him."

"I heard."

"I tried to stop her."

"Brother, I do not think that is your decision to make," Benedict said gently.

"I know, Benedict!" Anthony snapped, looking at him. He sighed, evidently trying to hold his emotions together. "It's all my fault," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Benedict frowned. He pushed the office door shut behind him and walked over to Anthony, standing the other side of his desk. "What is?"

"This entire situation. She..." Anthony cut himself off and cleared his throat, the words getting stuck. "She waited for me. She waited for me to change my ways and to realise that..."

"To realise that loving someone isn't a bad thing?" Benedict suggested.

Anthony dropped his head, closing his eyes as he exhaled deeply. He all but collapsed into his office chair and he leant forward, hiding his face in his hands, as he felt the tears burning his eyes. Every single emotion he had tried so hard to conceal, come rushing out of him.

He had come so close and yet he had still lost it all. If only he had realised sooner, if only society and time would let them wait for one another.

Benedict crouched down next to him and put a hand on the back of his neck, squeezing it reassuringly. "I am sorry."

"It's not your fault, brother," Anthony said quietly, dropping his hands. He looked at him, knowing he looked a mess with red eyes and tears running down his face. "It's mine. It's always my fault."

The office door flung open with more force, and drama, than needed as Colin practically fell into the room.

"Colin, whatever is the matter?" Anthony asked, his walls coming up as he began to think of every single horrible thing that could've happened in the last ten minutes.

Colin panted as he stood up. "She said no."

Anthony nearly fell out of his chair. He subconsciously gripped Benedict's arm, digging his fingers into the fabric of his brother's suit jacket.

"What?"

"Brother," Benedict said, his voice even, "are you sure?"

Colin nodded. "She said no, Anthony. She turned him down."

Anthony was almost certain the servants thought him absolutely mad. The sun had barely risen and here he was, in his clothes from the night before, holding a ring box, waiting. Admittedly a bit impatiently but still waiting.

He could see two servants whispering to one another halfway up the stairs and knew something was going on.

"I know it is early but -"

"It is not that, my lord," one said, bowing to him. "She is not here. We cannot find her."

The head stablehand appeared in the foyer, looking up the stairs. "We've got a horse missing, too. One of the lads said a young lady took it out about ten minutes ago."

Anthony stood there, his brain running wild as he tried to figure out where Y/N would go so early in the morning. It clicked in his head, suddenly and violently and he barged past the stablehand and ran down the corridor, heading for the stables.

It'd been many years since he and Y/N had last spent a summer at Aubery Hall together yet he still remembered the exact route and the exact place they used to go riding together.

They had acres of land but there was only one place that Anthony knew she'd be. He'd introduced her to it, after all.

Despite the sun there was a light rain, covering the grass in tiny water droplets and making it sparkle in the morning sun. Anthony urged his horse into a canter, careening down the field and into the forest.

The lake sat hidden behind numerous oak trees and willows. No one would know it was there unless they looked for it. Anthony slowed his horse down as he approached, spotting Y/N sitting on the shoreline, her back to him.

"I am either incredibly stupid or I am an idiot," Y/N said, leaning back on her hands.

"Considering they are both synonyms of each other, I am not sure you can be both," Anthony replied, jumping down from his horse. He stopped where the grass bank dipped down into the lake, standing just behind her. "You declined his proposal."

Y/N sighed. "Yes."

"Why?"

"I am not entirely sure myself," she admitted.

"When I spoke to you about it... you were so certain - you were set on it. What happened?"

Y/N turned and looked at him. "You happened, my lord."

"Miss Y/L/N -"

"You spoke to me and suddenly I no longer knew what I wanted. Suddenly..."

Y/N trailed off. The wind blowing through the trees and the water hitting the shore were the only sounds - it was strangely peaceful. Anthony moved closer, tentatively sitting down next to her on the shore.

"Suddenly I could not imagine being apart from you," Y/N continued, staring straight ahead. "I could not imagine being betrothed to someone else when you are the only man I want to be with. And I could not do that to Sir Hughes. I could not spend every day with him knowing that I will never be content because my heart is constantly yearning for another."

Y/N turned her head and looked at him. The wind picked up, roaring through the trees and blowing the fabric of her shawl around. She pulled it tighter around her and curled in on herself a bit.

"I turned Sir Hughes down because what I want he cannot give me. My one desire is to feel like I am the centre of someone's universe. To feel as if it is just me and them against the world. To feel... as if we are the only things that matter.

"Sir Hughes can give me security and safety and I would be happy. But I would not be content. I would be constantly yearning for that feeling. A feeling that I have only ever felt with you. When I dance with you, Anthony, I feel as if we are the only ones in the room - as if there is no one else there. As if... we are in our own world."

Anthony didn't speak for a while. He let the words hang in the air, contemplating what to say. He breathed in and held it for a moment before exhaling slowly.

"My mother does not remember much after my father died. She was barely there. Yet, I remember every single moment. The pain. The grief. I... I could never be the cause of such pain. Of such grief. Which is why I want to have a marriage without it. A marriage untouched by the ravages of grief and heartbreak."

Y/N looked at him, pity yet understanding in her gaze. "But that's what love is, Anthony. It is pain and heartbreak and being so overwhelmed by grief that you cannot breathe. You cannot have love without pain. You can try and eliminate it all you want, Anthony, but it will always be there -"

"I know. I just..." Anthony inhaled sharply and Y/N could see the tears forming in his eyes. "I cannot imagine finally getting to love you only to lose you. I do not think I would ever be able to cope."

"You are not going to lose me, Anthony," Y/N said quietly, taking his hand in both of hers. "I am right here. But I cannot afford to wait any longer. I am running out of time."

Anthony nodded. "I understand. Truly, I do."

He moved suddenly, shifitng to kneel on his knees as he fumbled around in his pocket. As he pulled out whatever it was he had been looking for, he moved to kneel on just one knee.

"Miss Y/N Y/L/N," Anthony said, popping open the lid of the ring box. "Will you marry me?"

Y/N stared at him. "Anthony, I -"

"I decided a long time ago that you would be the one I would marry. I just could not accept," Anthony said. "I refused, in fact, to accept. It took seeing you with someone else - as a finer man as he is - for me to realise that a life spent without you is no life at all. I am scared to love, I will willingly admit that. I am scared for the day when I lose you and I have to suffer in this world without you. In all honesty, I hope I die first, but until then, I will spend every day with you, cherishing you and your presence in this world because I know time is precious. I cannot lose you, Y/N. Not now. Not ever."

Y/N smiled down at him, her eyes beginning to burn. "I knew waiting for you would be worth it. Even if it was a long, long time."

Y/N moved to her knees and all but fell onto Anthony, capturing his lips with hers and kissing him frantically and with the passion of someone who had waited far, far too long. Anthony wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him as Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair.

Anthony tipped her backwards, guiding her to the sandy, damp ground, their lips still locked together. Y/N arched into him, holding onto him tightly - daring him to leave her. She moaned softly as Anthony's hand worked its way up her skirts, hovering near where her stockings ended and her bare leg began. His fingers brushed the inside of her leg and Anthony broke free suddenly, leaning back on his haunches, panting.

"I will stop," he said, holding a hand between them - a barrier. "I will stop."