VioletWrites

   “Don’t be so blue Anthony, we all knew it was inevitable” Daphne laughed, bathing in her victory and gave her son a twirl in the air and a kiss. “Hold Auggie a moment would you brother, I must go to my quarters to get ready.” 

   “I’ve got him,” he replied, holding his nephew in an embrace as he approached the Duke. “Basset,” he said in a hushed shout, “Basset!” 

   “What is it Bridgerton?” he smirked, watching the sight of his son giggling in his uncle’s arms. 

   “I think Anthony would suit this little one much nicer don’t you think?” he quipped.

   “Certainly not Bridgerton, people would make presumptions about my son,” he laughed, taking Auggie into his own arms. “Anyway has Daphne informed you of our company tonight?”

   “Company?” he inquired, “I wasn’t expecting any company?” he was not in the mood after his crushing defeat to be forced to talk to guests. He’d rather sulk in his quarters honestly, but he wouldn’t let others know that.

   “Ah good I remembered then. Our friend ___ ____ will be joining us, maybe you can finally charm her?” the Duke suggested, raising his eyebrows at his brother-in-law. 

   “Charm her?” he answered, “why ever would I wish to do that?”

   “Oh come off it Bridgerton! We all see the way you look at her when she’s around, like a lost puppy.” great, everybody could see it too, no wonder you didn’t ever meet his gaze when he looked towards you. 

   “Very funny, thank you very much for making me put in further effort this evening.” he replied frustratedly, he didn’t want you to see him like this but rather an effortlessly dashing man of fiction, but with only a few minutes until supper that wasn’t possible. Once Simon had walked away, he hastily ran to his quarters to prepare himself for your arrival. 

                                                             ***

   With the spare minute he had allowed himself, Anthony sat waiting for a carriage to pull onto the drive; this taking thirty seconds to happen which felt like thirty minutes, Anthony rushed downstairs to greet you at the door, but his mother had got there first. 

   “Ah Miss ____! How lovely for you to join us!” he said nodding his head in her direction; he had made himself seem to just coincidently walk down the stairs as you had arrived. 

   “Good evening Lord Bridgerton, forgive my intrusion but I couldn’t reject such an offer from your wonderful mother and sister,” she smiled at him, oh god. So his mother was also in on this, clearly since she was smirking at him over her shoulder before returning to ___. 

   “This way my dear,” his mother said, pushing you into the dining room before turning back to Anthony. “Be pleasant dearest, you might find ___ to be very accepting of your intentions.” and with that she joined everyone in the dining room. What? Surely not? besides what intentions was she expecting him to act on. With his Mama’s last words running around in his head he felt himself flush red, he took himself to a nearby window to take a breath before joining his family for dinner.

   There you were; sat at his side, opposite Daphne with Colin on your right. He took his seat at the head of the table watching you as you made polite conversation with his younger brother. Intending to interrupt your conversation he stumbled “I hope-” he coughed, “I hope you find the meal satisfactory Miss ____”

   “You needn’t be so formal Lord Bridgerton, call me ___” she smiled, “The meal will be out delightful I am certain, you shouldn’t have had the cook prepare my favourite but I do appreciate the fact.” He flushed further, looking towards his Mama who simply nodded towards him.

   “It was no trouble honestly, so long as it’s satisfactory and call me Anthony, please.”

   “Of course, Anthony.” He didn’t think it possible but he felt as if he were about to melt, he wanted to hear you say his name again, in various circumstances, as a plea in his ear when you were alone together. 

   “Ow!” Daphne had just kicked him under the table.

   “You’re drooling brother,” she informed him making him wipe his mouth quickly, embarrassed he looked towards you who was chuckling softly. He couldn’t help but join in. 

   “Forgive me ___ I was distracted,” 

   “You weren’t drooling do not worry,” she laughed harder causing him to glare at his smirking sister. “Should you wish for a glass of water Anthony, you’ve gone as red as a tomato,” you quipped causing him to grow brighter. He wanted to lock himself in his quarters and never return, “I jest my Lord, Anthony. I apologise.”

   “You needn’t,” he replied relieved, “it’s my delightful sister who set you up to it.” You grinned even wider, an action impossible not to copy, and he refilled your wine glass you had been sipping idly. Your lips meeting the glass gratefully, softly parting as the liquid poured in. 

   The evening continued with jokes and pleasant conversation as the Viscount, more obviously than not, waited on your every word - something that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by the Duchess who simply smirked to herself at her brother’s infatuation. Now dinner had ended and people began retiring to their rooms, Daphne asked “___ would you like to help me put Auggie to bed before you retire?” to which you beamed.

   “Of course I shall, who I am to reject the offer of saying goodnight to the most handsome young man in this house!” 

   “You must not think me young then!” stated Colin, who had had a few drinks at the table that night. This comment undeniably angered the Viscount who, as soon as you followed the eldest sister upstairs to the nursery, gave his brother a smack round the head. “Ow! Brother!”

   “Be quiet Colin,” he ordered, resulting in Benedict paralysed with laughter as Colin massaged the back of his head.

   “Old Brute.”

   “What was that?” he snapped.

   “Nothing, nothing.” Benedict only laughed harder this time. 

   Tired of his brothers, as he was on many occasions, he set on retiring to his bed too. As he climbed the stairs of the manor he heard the sound of Auggie’s giggles along with someone else's, but he wasn’t sure if it was yours or Daphne’s. Determined to investigate, for the sole reason of glancing upon your face again, he followed the hallway down to his nephew’s nursery. Much to his delight he wasn’t disappointed, it was you; you gracefully spun with his nephew around the room causing him to squeal with delight. He remained in place, partially hidden by the door until you span at finally noticed his presence.

   “Anthony? Sorry if I was being too loud, did I disturb you?” you questioned. He immediately noticed Daphne was absent, leaving you two alone - bar his nephew.

   “On the contrary, please continue it’s lovely to see you like this -” the words left his mouth without thought, though they weren’t regretted as you blushed. He suddenly had the overwhelming feeling of adoration wave over him. He watched how you treated Auggie with such care, so much love and compassion that he wondered what you would be like as a wife to her husband. Would you treat your spouse with the same care, your future children, he imagined his future children with a mother as caring as you were exhibiting now. But strangely he couldn’t picture the face of his unborn child’s mother without it forming into - you.

   “I cannot wait for the day I have children of my own,” you confessed. The Viscount felt his heart begin to burst with joy but also a sense of sadness, your children would most likely be with a random gentleman he had no knowledge of. They could be of far higher ranking of himself due to your close friendship with the Duke and Duchess, but hope rose in his chest when you added, “But no gentleman I’ve met so far have shared my affinity to have children. How do you feel Anthony?”

   “About children?” he replied to which you nodded. “I have always feared the idea in a way but - but, the more time I have been able to spend with my dear nephew here, the more I feel a yearning for my own.” You seemed very pleased with this answer, he smiled gladly as he spoke no word of a lie.

   “Would you like to put him down to rest?”

   “Very much so,” he answered. He crossed the distance between the two of you to take Auggie from your arms, brushing his hand across your arm as he took his nephew slower than needed. He felt your eyes on him, your breath blowing on his disheveled hair at the closeness, he met your eyes; that was a mistake. He desperately wanted to kiss you in that moment. He imagined the life you’d share in your own nursery, with your own children, his children. 

   His nephew began to stir as you both grew closer to one another causing him to break away from his little bubble of fiction. He felt himself flushed under your eyes, which were most definitely still watching his every move. Never had a woman driven him to this much of a reaction before, he couldn’t even meet your eyes again fearing for besmirching your honour. Instead he leant over his nephew’s bassinet, cooing over him softly and you joined him.

  You placed your arm millimetres away from his, hoping you’d close the distance as he internally begged for any physical contact from you. To his surprise, he wasn’t disappointed; not only did you brush your arm against his but you took his hand in yours without a single word. But you were both aware of the feelings that had silently passed between the two of you. 

   He looked at you then, he allowed you to see exactly what he wanted to tell you but couldn’t. He tried to convey that you had him wrapped around your finger, he would worship at your feet if you desired him to do so. But he needn’t have done that as you boldly conveyed a similar notion but rather through action, you took his face in your free hand to stroke his jaw. You did so slowly, painfully slowly before you leaned towards him, placing a feather light kiss upon his lips. He didn’t dare open his eyes, he couldn’t ruin this moment - he was praying you weren’t giving in to a fleeting moment of passion but rather a deep desire. “I will take my leave now Anthony, I will see you in the morning.” you said softly, never letting go of his hand until your arm could reach no further that you were forced to let him go.

   Anthony only opened his eyes once he was sure you had gone, he wanted that image firmly imprinted on his mind, body and soul for eternity. “Are you quite alright Bridgerton?” it was the Duke. “Anthony?” he questioned, amused.

   “I’m going to marry that woman Basset.” he stated, unwavering as he held eye contact with the Duke.

   “About time you realised it brother.”

   “This is my second-born son, Benedict as all you ladies must know,” Violet announced to the other Mamas, and certainly the rest of the ballroom as even more women joined the growing crowd.

   “I’m sure I heard Eloise calling Mama, I ought to accompany her don’t you think?” an obvious lie, but anything to get him out of this nest of shrieking Mamas introducing their daughters. 

   “I’ll tend to her in a moment Benedict, don’t you worry,” she said lightly squeezing his arm in warning. 

   “You know my daughter Prudence Featheri-”

   “Lady Berton, and this is my eldest Charlotte, she is very accomplished in-”

   “My youngest, Sarah is far more-”

   The introductions went on for what felt like decades, and Benedict was unable to free himself until he came up with an excuse, saying he had to greet an old friend, after his mother had finally left to find Eloise hiding from suitors and was currently trying to pry her away from behind a pillar inconspicuously, which met a great deal of failure and stares. 

   Taking this as his chance to slip away, Benedict made a quick trip to the drinks table, grabbing himself two glasses of champagne and fled to the terrace. Now looking over the gardens, he hastily downed one glass down his throat and let out a sigh of relief which formed itself into a mist in front of him in the chill air of the night. He felt like a coward using Eloise as a distraction for his escape and would surely hear about it later, but he couldn’t handle these insistent Mamas. He didn’t now how he would cope with the rest of the season. 

   Taking a sip of his second glass, he jumped as he heard the distant voice of his mother asking about his whereabouts very near the terrace doors. Shit he thought, quickly following the stairs downwards onto a stone path leading around Lady Danbury’s estate, ending at her greenhouse which was being restored; one glass door was boarded and the other broken with, luckily, a large enough gap for him to climb through.

   Once inside, Benedict once again felt relief. Confident that his Mama wouldn’t stray this far from the ball in search of him, he pushed further into the overgrowth of ivy, weeds and resilient flowers until he reached what he believed to be the centre. He was met with a grand cracked fountain in the form of men and women on rocks looking into the distance. He hadn’t felt much inspiration lately, since he learnt of the reason for his place at the academy, but the sight before him certainly needed to be captured. 

   He began to circle the dry fountain to take in the image, sipping what he hadn’t already spilt of his champagne he startled at the rustle of leaves as he continued, dropping the glass which smashed against the stone.

   “Fuck!” he heard a woman curse as the glass smashed, making himself startle again. “Oh it’s- please forgive my language my Lord, you frightened me.” she said, trying to hide a burning cigarette behind her.

   Astounded, “it’s quite alright,” he managed to reply with a hand on his chest in fright, “I didn’t realise there was somebody else here. Forgive my intrusion.”

   “I don’t wish to cause a scandal my Lord, we should leave separate ways a few minutes apart.” clearly panicking, the woman began to smooth out her dress and snub out her cigarette. 

   “Neither do I Miss?”

   “____, ___ ____” she sighed, seemingly relieved but still wary. 

   “Don’t feel the need to leave, I desire the peace as much as you seem to, let me assure you I do not intend to cause scandal, my family has only slightly recovered from near ruin from last season, I do not wish it again believe me,” he chuckled, calmer now and sat on a stone bench opposite her. He hadn’t seen her at the Queen’s presentation ceremony, she seemed to be the age of a debutante, she certainly held the beauty of a debutant, albeit a little less put together most likely from her escape route. 

   “You are Lord Bridgerton, I suspect?” she asked, steadying her breath and taking a long inhale from her cigarette. “Would you like one?”

   “Yes I am Miss ____, but call me Benedict, I think we’ve gone past formalities given our predicament,” he laughed, “Oh I will take one thank you,” he extended his hand to take it as she lit a match, placing it to the end as he cupped her hands in his to avoid putting it out. “Thank you.”

   “Why have you escaped to my haven Lord-, Benedict?”

   “I could ask the same of you Miss ____”

   “Call me ___”

   “___” he smiled, “with two of my siblings married, my Mama has set her sights on my own marriage prospects.”

   “Do you have any marriage prospects?”

   “Not currently, perhaps never. I am perfectly content in living my life as I please, but that’s not an option apparently for my mother.” ___ laughed, he liked her laugh. It wasn’t put on to be lady-like or polite, but genuine. “And what of you? I assume you’re a debutante, though I didn’t see you at the presentation.”

   “Yes I am unfortunately, like you my Mama is set on finding me a suitor but I’m not so inclined.” she sat silently for a moment, contemplating her next words, “I wished for more time to focus on my studies, but as the only child I am expected to marry well. Luckily I am staying with some close family friends who allowed me to miss the presentation, but Mama won’t know that.”

   “My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry” Benedict said, causing her to chuckle with him. It was freeing to have conversation without the assumption of courtship, no Mamas breathing down his neck for a proposal but to just sit with a woman and talk without the expected wooing. He leant back to gaze up at the fountain, the breeze filing the comfortable silence. He once again imagined painting the scene but now with an addition, her. Her casual posture as she glanced towards him, inspecting him, perhaps looking for any sign of mistruth he wasn’t sure but he most certainly didn’t mind. It was probably the alcohol making him be even more aware of himself than usual but he felt hot and flushed. Her eyes travelled down to his neck, making him pull at his cravat (regency neck tie) as she wandered lower. Like her, he took in the sight before him. She wore a pale green dress with subtly embroidered flowers along the hem and sleeves, long white gloves had been removed and placed beside her, exposing her arms to the breeze making small hairs stand on edge. The back he assumed, as he couldn’t see, was most likely ribbons. His mind fled to the fantasy of unravelling each one meticulously, exposing her back as he trailed his fingers down to the end. He wasn’t certain how long he thought about her in that way but she was now clearly flushed as he met her eyes. Like a deep pool that he wished he could paint, swim within, gaze into longer. I’m doing it again.

   Nervously he coughed and broke his own eyes away, “I should head back,” he said ,stumbling over his words, “to the lion’s den, my sister is no doubt suffering.” He didn’t wish to depart but he wasn’t sure how long he could stay in her presence.

   She smiled kindly, her cheeks reddening further, “well I wish her luck, we’ll need it this season, I hope she can escape the rest of our fates.” Benedict smiled. He rose gesturing to take her hand, lightly kissing the back as a farewell, letting his lips linger a little longer than appropriate. 

   “It was lovely to meet you Miss ____.” and with that she removed her hand from his and, to his shock, lifted his chin to meet her eyes, grazing her fingers lightly across his neck as she adjusted his cravat to look presentable. He lost himself in her touch, it was as if her hands were in flames which spread down his body, cold as soon as she pulled away. 

   “The pleasure is all mine Lord Bridgerton,” she replied softly, again taking his chin in the hand and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I hope to meet you again to steal me away from our torment.” Too stunned at her boldness, Benedict rose to a stand bowed his head and left with a smile. The burning sensation only increasing, consuming his entire being in a single touch. He’d felt lust before, by oh my this was far more extreme. 

   He felt as if he couldn’t breathe until he climbed back through the broken glass door. He let the breeze hit him to wake himself from this encounter but he remained flushed red in colour all the way back to the ballroom. This season would most certainly be unbearable, if he saw her again he knew she could easily draw this reaction from him again. He reminded himself, I am a gentleman, but this woman made him want to cut ties with that statement completely he wanted to be close to her, he wanted - 

   “Benedict Bridgerton! Where have you been?” Oh no, he thought as his mother pulled him inside from the terrace. “How much have you had to drink? You’re all flushed!” she tutted. 

   “Sorry Mama, got carried away with some old friends.” he was grinning from ear to ear, but he knew his mother didn’t believe him and he was lucky she didn’t ask again. They would most likely be having a conversation in the morning. “Where’s Eloise?”

   “Waiting in the carriage, we best be off now. You were gone for ages, all those lovely girls you could’ve danced with.” she tutted again, starting to list all of her potential bride’s for him and how he missed his opportunity. He paid little mind to his mother’s words as he saw ___ sneak away from the greenhouse just before he was dragged through the door to the carriages. This may be a very interesting season indeed. 

   As Benedict left, she remained seated but with her hands firmly planted on the fountain’s edge. Placing the black of her hand to her mouth where he had kissed her, the imprint of his lips burning her skin. She wanted to kiss him in that moment but that would only lead to a very compromising situation had he even wanted it to continue. Perhaps she scared him away, was she too direct? What if he does tell somebody about where she was? He could have easily lied to her about his intentions towards a scandal. No don’t be stupid, she told herself, Benedict’s family almost faced ruin and their unchaperoned meeting certainly would solidify the family’s fate. 

   They were sure to meet again, if his Mama was dragging him to every ball she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes off of him. But little did she know neither would he.