#bridgerton fics
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what are ur favorite anthony bridgerton five
hi! i'm assuming this says fics, and i am SO HONOURED that you trust me to recommend my favourite fics to you!
first up… the amazing and fantastic @fayes-fics, one of THE MOST skilled writers alive. she never misses!
some of my personal favs from her are:
➥ a beneficial arrangement [ ⭐️ ]
a marriage pact with a viscount. what could possibly go wrong?
➥ rescue and ruin
anthony rescues something for you… and it will likely lead to your ruin.
➥ the friends+ series
modern AU. series of fics that feature anthony & journalist!reader’s burgeoning relationship.
those are just a few of my favorites, but READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST! you will not regret it, promise.
secondly, a series of fics by the wonderfully talented @rubysunnday, and once again, be sure to read all of her masterlist!
➥ take my hand
as much as y/n appreciates anthony’s matchmaking efforts, it’s hard to accept them when he’s the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one
➥ a long, long time
y/n has waited a long, long time for anthony bridgerton to finally decide to get married. but by the time he finally decides to find a wife, y/n has run out of time and anthony is suddenly faced with losing her to someone else.
➥ it’s a bad idea, me and you [ ⭐️ ]
y/n was ready to give her entire heart to anthony bridgerton. only for him to shove her aside in favour for sienna rosso. but, now, sienna is gone and despite what y/n keeps telling herself - anthony truly does own her heart.
now, for the queen of the modern!anthony au, @eleanor-bradstreet! some of my favorites from her are…
➥ gala
you attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.
➥ locked out
when you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.
➥ take me instead [ ⭐️ ]
you and anthony find yourselves in the middle of a bank robbery on an ill-fated day.
next we have @colettebronte, BRIDGERTON SMUT AUNTIE HERSELF WOOO!
(warning, these fics are VERY mature, and include BDSM and other possibly triggering material).
➥ rise and breathe
newly arrived back in london after a long journey across the mediterranean sea, you encounter a pathetically drunk viscount bridgerton the night he is rejected by sienna rosso. after a sobering morning on all counts, you sense that he is indeed lost and in need of a new purpose and direction. through submission and service, he may just find it.
➥ what (who) are you doing on new year’s eve?
a mysterious benefactor invites you to ring in the New Year with them.
➥ kinktober day ten: blindfolded
your tenth evening with your client. day ten for kinktober. I’m going with two prompts tonight, blindfolded and massage.
finally, we have some individual fics that stole my heart.
➥ diamonds and pearls by @multiharlot
diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage.
➥ enamoured by @dreamwritesimagines
everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst. yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. they had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight. regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss. that assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though. you were nowhere near ready.
➥ right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch
you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings.
➥ right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69
the only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a viscount. surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. or the one where your arranged marriage with anthony bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.
➥ melt away by @healmydesires
the night you give your love and body to your husband.
➥ sham, pride, and illicit affairs by @peeterparkr
or, the story of how you rejected his proposal because you once loved him.
➥ enchanted by @imthebadguyyy
you and anthony don’t need words to converse.
➥ better man by @midnightfictionlibrary
anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever.
➥ no longer in denial by @iwritefandomimagines
anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.
➥ the language of flowers by @cinnamoodles (shameless self plug)
you and anthony have been friends for as long as you can remember, but what happens when his world turns upside down? will he open his heart and let the woman silently pining for him in?
AHH ok that was it, and these are the bridgerton fics i love with all of my soul. thank you so much for your ask, it was so nice to see all these wonderful fics again.
xo, lottie !
#🐋 . . . charlotte speaks !#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton netflix#anthony bridgerton x you#bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton fic rec#bridgerton fics
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enchanted.
pairing • anthony bridgerton x reader
fandom • bridgerton
synopsis • you and anthony don't need words to converse.
an • mildly inspired by my coke studio binging because they're bloody amazing.
maybe it was a gift. or a lucky connection. whatever it was, you were glad it existed.
being married to a viscount meant that society had expectations. graceful, poised, calm, beautiful, intelligent. and sometimes, just sometimes, thinks could get a little overwhelming. it was perhaps your hundredth ball this season. you had decided to assist anthony in his quest to marry daphne off to someone he deemed proper enough to marry his sister. of course, it took some severe looks from you for him to reluctantly agree to let daphne actually dance with interested suitors.
having managed to convince your husband to come away for a dance (something the dowager viscountess had been most grateful for, for it meant her eldest son was away while daphne continued her quest to find a husband)
but of course it would never be that simple.
anthony bridgerton was a very, very attractive man, and every single lady in the ton new it. you'd think that his marriage to another woman would have stopped the batting eyelashes and sultry gazes, but much to your chagrin, they didn't.
if anything, they increased. hushed voices greeted you at every turn, mamas looking at you with contempt and disfavour. you were the woman who had deprived their daughters of the title of viscountess.
you could feel their gazes burning holes in the silky material of your blue dress, matching anthony's waist coat and cravat. his hands rested lightly on your waist, and interlaced with your fingers. he couldnt believe he was married to a woman like you, a woman so sweet and kind and loving and smart.
oblivious to the vicious whispers, he leaned in close to press a kiss to your forehead, watching the way you tensed and your eyebrow creased.
"is everything alright my darling?" he asked, gently squeezing your waist.
a few feet away, lady cowper leaned around to whisper something into another lady's ears, a contemptuous smile playing on her lips, cruel eyes boring into yours.
anthony caught the way your eyes looked down after meeting lady cowper's, and the first glimmer of tears in your eyes.
he hated it.
he hated how even thought he was married to the woman he loved, the ton thought it acceptable to gossip and chatter about his marriage and make his beloved feel like she was worthless.
he was well aware of how much the comments and whispers hurt you, and that in turn hurt him.
gently, he reached up to caress your cheek, looking into your eyes.
your soft gaze met his warm, familiar one. it was safe, familial and homely.
i love you, he said, with the gentle touch of his hands. i adore you, he said, with the soft caress of your cheek. i need you, he said, with the burning passion in his eyes. i care for you, he said, with the grip on the blue silk that adorned your body.
i am yours, he said, when his lips descended upon your temple, tracing up to your forehead and then down to your nose, before pressing against the corner of your lips.
a public display of affection was a rarity for anyone, especially if it was a viscount. but anthony didn't care.
he was yours and you were his.
and if it took kissing you (something he enjoyed very much) to convince the vile ladies that he was truly enamoured with his amore, then he would gladly do it.
and so he pressed his lips to yours, sweet and plump, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the old couple next to the both of you.
relaxing, you leaned into his touch ever so slightly before pulling back.
thank you, you said to him with the glimmer in your eyes. i love you, you said to him with the gentle pattern you were tracing on his cufflinks.
you didn't need to tell anthony what was troubling you.
he always knew.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
HI OMG IM SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITING FOR SO LONG SO HERES JUST A TEENSY TINY LITTLE SNEAK PEAK OF A FIC IM GONNA POST SOON THAT ALSO WORKS AS A BLURB and I'm so sorry for being MIA for so long 😭
any feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♥️ much love and happy reading!!
TAGS -:
bridgerton - @freyathehuntress
everything - @roslastyles420
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm 🥰
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton imagines#bridgerton fics#the viscount who loved me#viscount x reader#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton blurbs#Anthony bridgerton x reader fluff#bridgerton blurbs#blurb
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Bridgerton Masterlist
I made a list with links for you all to find all my Bridgerton-related fanfics in just one place. I'll be updating as I go.
+18!
Anthony Bridgerton
kiss me
Benedict Bridgerton
the writer and the illustrator: pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3
#bridgerton#bridgerton fics#bridgerton fic#bridgerton universe#anthony bridgerton smut#anthony bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton smut
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You're eyes whispered "Have we met?"
Read it on Ao3
Summary:
…and finally, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and ward to the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June…
Waking up to the news you're engaged is certainly a surprise. Especially when you have no recollection of a proposal ever happening.
Word count: 9.9k+
Notes: This was going to be my final entry to Benophie week back in June, but I didn’t finish it in time. But here it is finally. And yes, I know, I already have a fake dating fic (that I need to finish) but I read the summary for “Not the Kind of Earl You Would Marry” and started thinking about it relating to Benophie. Which is never a good sign.
Sophie had never particularly enjoyed the marriage announcements part of the morning paper.
It wasn't that she hated them, they were the announcements of other people's happiness. Those whose lives were far more privileged and more straightforward than her own. Uncomplicated by poverty and abuse like hers. She knew she shouldn't be bitter and jealous, but she couldn't help it. They left her wondering what their lives were like. Fantasizing about how they had met and fallen in love, hoping they were all love matches.
All it did was make the reality of her situation even worse.
Usually, she ignored them. It wasn't as if she actually had the time to sit down and read them over, to begin with, but today was different.
When she came downstairs and found Mrs. Gibbons and the cook with expressions of dread and worry on their faces, she grew concerned. A pit formed in her stomach as she watched the housekeeper approach her. Mrs. Gibbons didn't say anything as she handed her the paper and pointed to a paragraph hidden amongst the announcements column. It is right at the bottom and barely noticeable at first. Until she saw the names.
Recognized the names.
…and finally, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and ward of the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June…
Nothing but pure panic laced through her, freezing her to her core as she read it. As if her blood was being replaced with ice. Sophie was at a loss for words. Her body turned to marble, as if her brain had just stopped working. She no longer knew how to speak, think, or breathe.
But she knew exactly what would happen if Araminta saw it.
And unfortunately, as Sophie stood, trembling in the kitchen, trying to think up a way to hide this news from her stepmother, the butler had already unknowingly delivered the other copy to her upstairs as she readied herself for the day. The loud, shrill scream of Sophie's name reverberating throughout Penwood House confirmed that.
How on earth it was that she had ended up engaged to the man of her dreams was beyond Sophie's knowledge. She never left Penwood House (save for that one night two months ago), and she certainly did not interact with those of the other sex (save for that one night two months ago).
And that wasn't even the worst part.
It was that she was engaged to the man of her dreams.
~~~
Benedict woke up to the sight of his elder brother towering over him.
It took him a minute to recognize it was Anthony standing next to his bed. There was a dull throb in his skull he hadn't yet slept off, the result of his drinking choices the night prior after he had, once again, failed to find the Lady in Silver.
Blinking away the sleep from his eyes and realizing it was his brother, Benedict frowned. How the hell had Anthony gotten into his lodgings? Benedict was going to have to speak to his valet, Graves, about this.
"Good morning, brother," he said slowly. Benedict was concerned about how his brother had gotten in and why he was bothering him so early in the morning.
Glancing down, Benedict quickly remembered he was currently naked underneath the bed sheet that was covering his lower body. Grabbing it, he slowly pulled it upwards over his chest, making sure he was fully covered before he looked back to his brother and added. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What on earth were you thinking?" Anthony asked, no, demanded from him, glaring down at him with his furious I'm-the-viscount-and-you'll-do-as-I-say look that had never swayed or affected Benedict.
"That another drink wasn't a terrible idea," he groaned back, rubbing his hands over his face in an effort to wake himself up. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
"Oh no. You do not get to play games with me right now, Benedict. Do you have any idea what your actions have caused? What they've done to mother? She's been in a state all morning since she found out," Anthony informed him furiously.
Benedict's confused frown only deepened as he stared up at his brother. While he was a drinker, he'd certainly never been the type to be the fool while intoxicated (minus the one occasion with drug-infused tea courtesy of his brother). Usually, he was just overly cheerful or depressed, but that was when he was alone. He doubted he'd done anything to bring shame on his family name. Let alone frazzle his mother.
"I'm confused. What exactly is it that you think I've done?" he asked back.
"Your engagement," Anthony snapped. "You've broken our mother's heart by not telling her any of this."
Benedict stared at his brother in silence before the confused frown on his face shifted to a smile. He couldn't help it. He started laughing.
Which only infuriated his already furious brother.
"Why are you laughing?" Anthony once again demanded as Benedict continued chuckling.
"Because I'm not engaged," he retorted between breaths.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes. You. Are."
"I think I would know if I was, brother."
"There is an announcement. Benedict."
"What announcement?"
The vein bulging in Anthony's forehead looked about to burst. Clearing his throat, his brother lifted the paper he'd been holding this entire time and read it out to him.
"Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, second son of the dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton and the late Viscount Edmund Bridgerton, is happy to announce his engagement to the young Miss Sophia Beckett, daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett of Wiltshire and the ward of the late earl of Penwood. They plan to hold their wedding in late June," he said with a dramatic flourish that barely concealed his annoyance.
The laughing ceased immediately. The humor of this situation disappeared in a puff of smoke as Benedict stared at his brother in disbelief.
"What do you mean there is an announcement in the paper?" Benedict sat up and snatched the paper from him, believing this to be nothing more than a lie. A bold-faced prank his brother was pulling on him.
He scoured the page until he found the announcement in the bottom right corner. The last one. Almost hidden away, he found his name staring back at him mockingly, next to the name of a woman he did not know.
Staring at the little paragraph in shock, he'd hoped he could just blink, and it would magically fade away, or that his brother would tell him this was all just some sick joke.
And besides that, who the hell was Sophia Beckett?
"You seriously don't know?" Anthony asked, now the one who was confused. And concerned.
"Anthony, I swear, I'm not engaged, and I certainly did not announce one to the public," Benedict replied, his voice almost shaking from the shock of what he'd just read. Praying that his brother would believe him.
But he did. It was Anthony, for crying out loud. His brother knew immediately that he was being truthful with him. The rigid, tense posture relaxed as he shifted from furious Viscount to supportive older brother, recognizing they had been had. The implications of a false engagement on Benedict and their family led Anthony's anger to slowly shift and be directed toward whoever was at fault for this.
"We'll figure this out," he told him gently. "Get dressed. We'll head to the printer's shop and find out what happened."
Benedict groaned as he realized another problem. "I need to explain this to mother."
"We'll tell her on the way," Anthony patted him supportively on the shoulder. "Get dressed. Come on."
After hastily dressing, Benedict departed from his lodgings with his brother, not even bothering to shave as they were in too much of a rush. He hopped into the carriage behind his brother, spending the entire trip feeling as if he'd throw up his heart, given it felt as if it was sitting in his throat now, beating wildly. He wouldn't even look out the window, couldn't actually. He feared someone would recognize him from behind the glass.
His anxieties got the better of him as they traveled the short distance to Number 5. His mind was overwhelmed by guilt and worry. How on earth was he supposed to explain this to his mother? God, she must have been furious with him.
They entered the home quickly once they'd arrived, and Benedict found his mother pacing the front foyer, rambling to herself. Kate was there as well, and it was apparent she'd spent the past God knows how many minutes trying to calm her down as his youngest siblings were perched on the stairs, watching the scene unfold.
"Benedict!" his mother cried out as she spotted him, rushing towards him.
"Here we go," Benedict muttered.
"Good luck," Anthony whispered, patting him on the back as their mother stopped in front of them.
"How could you not tell me?" was the first question out of his mother's mouth, voice laced with pain and a distraught look on her face that tugged at Benedict's heart. He hated upsetting her.
"Mother, I-" Benedict started.
"Did you truly believe I would be against this?"
"No, I just-"
"Have I offended you somehow? Made you believe I would not support you?"
"Of course not. Mother, this is just some-"
"What did I do to make you believe you had to go behind my back?"
"Mother, I swear I-"
"I never wanted any of you to believe you had to keep your love for another to yourself. If you had just come to me, Benedict, I would have been more than welcome to give you my blessing. I could care less if Miss Beckett is a ward. If you are in love with her, then you have my full support," his mother rambled on.
"Mother. Mother!" Benedict placed his hands on her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm not getting married. I do not even know the woman."
"Oh!" his mother looked momentarily surprised at the news, bright blue eyes wide, before she blinked at him, then frowned. "But there is an announcement."
"Which I assure you, I did not make," Benedict explained.
"Well, then, who on earth did?" she loudly asked, aghast now.
"That is something we would all like to know," Anthony replied. He'd gone to stand by his wife now, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.
"I have no idea," Benedict said, answering his mother's question. "Anthony and I are going to the printer's shop today to figure out how this happened. We'll get them to retract it. I promise."
"Well, it's a little late for that now," his mother told him with a little huff. "And even if we can get a statement out to reverse this, we'll have to figure out a way to explain what's happened."
"Thankfully, Whistledown arrived before the newspaper did," Hyacinth said.
"Even she did not know," Gregory added.
"Well, Whistledown won't be able to know anything since there is no truth to any of this," Benedict replied quickly, his aggravation over the entire situation leaking out through his tone. He turned towards his mother. "Sophia Beckett. Have you ever heard of Penwood having a ward?"
"There were whispers a few years back. That a child was living at Penwood Park. The earl's mother allegedly said he'd taken in a distant cousin's daughter before she died, but it was never confirmed. No one ever saw or met this ward of his. And Lord Gunningworth was never an approachable man, so I do not believe anyone ever asked him to confirm it," his mother told him. "The only children I know of are the late earl's stepchildren."
"The Reiling girls, yes, I remember them," Benedict supplied, recalling his visit to Penwood House in search of his mysterious dancing partner. He tried not to shudder, recalling his interactions with the eldest Reiling and her mother. The entire interaction had been a waste of time, and he had left with no interest in spending time with them again.
His mother frowned. "If anyone would falsify an engagement announcement for their own benefit, it would be Lady Penwood. There were rumors she did that to Lord Gunningworth to guarantee his proposal, but I'm surprised she did not use one of her daughters. If it was her, that is."
"I never met or saw this Miss Beckett when I visited. I don't even recall her being mentioned," Benedict told her.
He'd only met the two Reiling girls, quickly dismissing them both once he realized neither was the woman he was searching for. And when he thought about it, Lady Penwood had told him herself that no other ladies were living in Penwood House besides the staff.
"She may have remained in the county after her guardian's death," Anthony suggested. "If she even exists."
"Maybe we get lucky, and she doesn't," Hyacinth supplied.
"If someone went to the trouble of falsifying an engagement announcement, I doubt they'd give the name of someone who never existed," Kate replied. "Even if that would make all of this much simpler."
His mother hummed. She had her scheming face now. That was never a good sign.
"It may be beneficial, as much as I hate to say this, to invite Lady Penwood and Miss Beckett here," his mother replied. "We will be able to confirm Miss Beckett's existence. And while I would rather not have that woman in this home, we may be able to learn more about how this all happened. If we feign ignorance."
"If you are willing to extend the invitation while Benedict and I will head to the printer's shop now, then it's settled," Anthony said.
Benedict took a deep breath. Today was undoubtedly going to be an adventure. And he still had yet to fully recover from his hangover.
He could only assume that this Miss Beckett, wherever she was, was having a more enjoyable morning than he was.
~~~
Sophie had been stuck in the downstairs closest for roughly two hours now.
She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been in the closet. She'd gotten tired of trying to keep track of the time as she sat cross-legged on the floor in the dark, waiting for Araminta to decide she could be let out again. It always got incredibly dull when she was locked in one of the closets as punishment, her thoughts her only company.
Suffice to say, her stepmother had not taken the news well. Storming down the stairs like a bat out of hell, screaming like a banshee at her. Accusing her of being ungrateful, of ruining her daughters, and being a whore like her dead mother (for which Sophie got slapped across the face after trying to defend her). After she was done screaming, Araminta had trapped her in the closet while she tried to figure out what to do with her. She'd screamed about throwing her out of the home and onto the streets, but Sophie had heard that threat too many times before for it to have an effect on her. There was no one else in London Araminta could get to work as a maid, gardener, tailor, and whatever else she needed Sophie to be for the simple fee of nothing at all.
Not that Sophie was prepared to leave. She always had been, but when you worked for nothing, she was left with nothing. No way of supporting her escape.
Yet somehow, through all of this, Araminta still hadn't figured out Sophie had snuck out two months ago to attend a ball. The scuffed silver shoes she'd borrowed were still hidden in the back of her stepmother's closet. She had that, at least.
So, as she sat on the floor of the closet, fiddling with a loose string on her old dress, Sophie waited for someone to come unlock the door. Going through her unattainable escape plan once again. Nothing but a fantasy, just like Benedict Bridgerton was.
Benedict Bridgerton. The man she spent such a wondrous evening with. Who made her heart flutter whenever she thought about him and of whom she'd spent many evenings dreaming about.
And now her name was in the paper next to his. Announcing an impending marriage.
Which was impossible. She hadn't seen him since that night. Not once. They'd become nothing more than two ships passing in the night. A man who did not even know her name. A man she'd already come to terms with, never seeing him again.
She sighed. This was a nightmare. Her dreams and fantasies had somehow become her personal nightmare.
The lock shifted suddenly, moving from its place in the door frame and snapping her from her anxious thoughts. Sophie stumbled to her feet, realizing the door was finally unlocked and opened. Light pooled into the room once again.
And revealing a still furious-looking Araminta on the other side of the door. Who sneered at Sophie when she saw her before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
"We have been invited to the Bridgertons for tea."
Her eyes opened again as she said the last sentence and snapped to Sophie. She glared at her with such anger and disgust that Sophie flinched back from it, wishing to be anywhere but here.
"I'm sorry?" Sophie bleated out, confused.
"Rosamund will give you one of her dresses since I doubt you will fit into any of Posy's, and then we will depart. Now go! Get dressed," she ordered curtly, stepping back so Sophie could exit the closet. "You will come with me, and you will say nothing. Nothing. Do you hear me? You have done enough damage, and I will not risk you ruining any chances of Rosamund finding a match. I will handle this. See how I can convince the Bridgertons to break this insulting pairing." She scoffed, shaking her head in disgust as Sophie stepped past her and into the hallway. "To think you thought you had a chance with one of them. How pathetic."
Clenching her jaw and her fists, her nails digging crescent-shaped moons into her palms, the only thing she had to ground her, Sophie took a deep breath through gritted teeth. She focused on trying to ignore how her stomach tightened at the jab. She wouldn't let it linger. She wouldn't. No matter how deep the knife felt.
She was well aware that she had nothing to bring to this match. Her stepmother did not need to remind her.
Straightening her back out, and ignoring the insult, as she had done for years now, she turned to face her.
"Anything else you would like me to do, Lady Penwood?" she asked politely, forcing a smile.
Araminta only sneered, her lip curling upwards. "Make yourself look presentable. That is the least you can do for me. We leave for the Bridgertons in an hour."
~~~
The printer's shop had been a dead end. The owner had refused their demands for answers, for explanations as to how Benedict's name had ended up in his paper next to a woman he did not know. Even Anthony's threats of libel and ruin did nothing to curb the owner's resolve.
"It ain't false unless they don't get married," he told them gruffly. Adding to the insult, he'd then informed them a retraction would cost them quite some coin.
A lot.
Anthony made clear there would be consequences, regardless, before they took their leave. Finding no other reason to stick around and argue any further. Benedict had briefly contemplated waiting, noticing how skittish the printer's assistant looked as he worked in the background. He watched them with a guilty look as they spoke with his employer, and Benedict wondered if the man had more information. Information he was willing to provide.
But they'd decided to try again later, knowing they had to be home in case there was a visit from the members of Penwood House. They could find out if their mother had learned anything new in their absence.
And their mother informed them that, yes, Miss Beckett did, in fact, exist and would be arriving upon the hour with Lady Penwood.
Which was enough time for Benedict to down two glasses of whiskey just to keep his strength up.
Christ, he had no idea what to do.
And he was angry. The shock of waking up to find himself engaged had slowly turned into annoyance and then rage as the day continued. He was furious that someone would force him into a marriage. It made him think about Nigel Berbrooke and what he'd tried with Daphne, which only made him even angrier when he remembered that slight. Against his sister, no less. And that had been years ago now.
Not to mention, he'd already found the love of his life, the mysterious Lady in Silver. The woman who had captured his heart in one evening and then ran off with it when the clock struck twelve, disappearing into the night. He was still searching for her, and now he may never even be able to be with her even if he did find her.
So, he was angry. With Miss Beckett. With the printer's shop. With whoever the hell it had been to put that announcement in the paper in the first place.
His mother had tried to keep him calm, pulling him into a comforting, maternal hug when she saw him step out of his brother's office. He went willingly, a small part of him needing the validation, support, and comfort his mother offered.
"We'll figure this out," she whispered. "If I didn't let your sister marry that god-awful Berbrooke, I won't let you marry someone you do not wish to either."
"I know," he replied.
Then she pulled away, moving to cup his cheeks in her hands as she rubbed circles over them with her thumbs.
"I'm sorry," he tells her again, his shoulders sagging.
"Oh hush, you have nothing to apologize for," she tells him, letting the words linger for a few seconds before she drops her hands from his face. "Lady Penwood should be here soon. Am I correct in my assumption you will be on your best behavior?" she gave him a knowing look as she said that part, one dark brow raised.
Benedict huffed a laugh, trying not to roll his eyes. "Of course, mother."
His mother only smiled again, reaching out to rub his cheek once more.
"Behave," she warned, and he nodded.
He was somehow able to keep his anger in check as he waited for the arrival of his apparent fiancee, Miss Sophia Beckett.
The entire time they were waiting, he could only think the worst of her. The most likely ulterior motives she must have had. A country-raised woman, an orphan, a ward who probably had only a meager dowry. Most likely seeking out his family's wealth and status to uplift her own. He didn't know if she was younger or older than him. No idea what her likes were or her personality. If she was anything like the elder Reiling sister, Benedict doubted they'd get along.
And then, she arrived.
And he realized he may have rushed to conclusions.
Because, frankly, she didn't look to him to have been the one to cause this. Didn't look a thing like the image he'd created in his mind.
She was young, petite, probably a foot shorter than him, wearing pale green and white, although the gown appeared to run rather big on her. The bottom of the gown's skirt dragged across the floor as if it hadn't been altered correctly, the sleeves barely hanging onto her thin arms or covering her shoulders.
Her features were fairy-like, sharp but soft. Enough that drew him towards her like a moth to a flame. A look of innocence. Ringlet curls pinned back into a bun, the curls falling around the bottom like a fringe of a curtain, with the shorter ones framing her face. And her eyes were the color of emeralds. Round and weary of the surroundings around her.
Benedict had to admit. She was quite beautiful.
And almost familiar. A feeling of deja vu swept over him as he studied her. They couldn't possibly have met before.
She was nervous, fiddling with the tips of her gloves as she lingered behind Lady Penwood during the introductions, as if trying to hide, keeping herself out of sight.
"Lord Bridgerton and Lady Violet!" Lady Penwood exclaimed cheerfully as she entered; however, Benedict had seen enough forced smiles in his lifetime to know the woman was not happy to be here.
"Lady Araminta. How are you?" his mother replied, with an equal matching forced politeness to that of the countess, sounding as if she was being reunited with an old friend when he knew her feelings to be the complete opposite.
"My sincerest apologies for all of this," the countess replied with a wave of the hand. "You must understand, we have no idea how any of this has happened."
"Oh, I would never dare to assume. I'm certain this is nothing more than some cruel prank," Violet returned with a sharp smile. Her pale eyes drifted over Araminta's shoulder to the young Miss Beckett standing quietly behind her. "And you must be Miss Beckett."
The young lady curtsied. "Your ladyship."
"This must have been such a surprise for you," Violet told her. "Getting dragged into all of this. I doubt it was what you expected when you woke up this morning."
Miss Beckett opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Araminta, who went as far to step in front of her, blocking their view as she began to talk instead.
"You must understand, Sophia has never been the smartest young woman. I've personally never understood why my late husband took her in, but I know she'd never ever be stupid enough to force a gentleman's hand. You see, she only just arrived in town," the countess said.
Benedict frowned. The tone had been polite, but there was a pointed jab directed at Sophie when Araminta spoke, anger hidden between the words. And Sophie only flinched as she spoke, shrinking back and away from them. A look on her face that said she wished to just disappear.
Araminta's icy eyes finally fell on him.
"Mr. Bridgerton," she smiled, her wolfish smile. Teeth and all. "I feel I must personally apologize for you being dragged into all of this."
He nodded his bow. "There is no need to apologize, Lady Penwood. I'm certain we can resolve this amongst ourselves. And quickly."
"Why don't we discuss this all in the parlor?" Violet suggested.
Araminta quickly agreed and followed his mother into the parlor, his brother close behind them, but Benedict found his feet suddenly rooted to the ground. Unable to move. Frankly, he didn't want to. Going into the parlor meant handling this god-awful affair, and he was just too tired to deal with it right now.
And it appeared Miss Sophie felt the same. She hadn't moved from the front hall either, still standing a short distance away. Leaving them both standing there, awkwardly and alone.
"I do not believe we were properly introduced," he told her, giving a short bow. "Benedict Bridgerton."
"Sophie. Sophie Beckett," she replied with another quick curtsy. "My sincerest apologies, Mr. Bridgerton. I swear, I had nothing to do with this."
He believed her. He hardly knew her, yet something told him he could trust her. There was a strange familiarity about her like he'd met her before, but he couldn't place were. And the sincerity in her voice, the worry in her round doe eyes, she was not lying to him.
"I believe you," he told her.
She blinked. "You do?"
"If anything, I should apologize to you," he told her. "I doubt this has been an enjoyable experience for you. And after you just arrived."
"Yes, I suppose it hasn't," she replied rather weakly.
He knew her. He had to. She seemed so familiar, and yet he couldn't place were. Her curls and eyes, her voice, those soft, plump lips, he could have sworn he'd met her once.
"Shall we?" he motioned towards the parlor, and she nodded.
He'd figure it out.
~~~
You could hear a pin drop. That was how silent it had become.
And the silence was going to kill Sophie. As she sat next to Araminta on the robin eggs blue and gold settee, across from Benedict, his mother, and brother, who all sat on the matching pair, all it did was aggravate her already high level of anxiety.
No one was speaking. A standoff over who would speak first had been going on since they first entered the room and took their seats.
It was apparent the Bridgertons were suspicious of them and that they did not particularly like them either. Not that they didn't have a reason not to be. Lord Anthony Bridgerton stoically sat next to his mother, watching them both intently with a severe expression. His mother, Violet, had kept a more polite and cheerful facade.
And Benedict.
Benedict looked increasingly uncomfortable like he'd eaten something that hadn't sat well with him.
She'd barely exchanged another word with him since their brief introduction.
Not that she'd been able to. Araminta kept answering for her whenever one of the Bridgertons asked her a question.
"I did not know the earl had a ward," Violet said suddenly with a forced cheery voice. Trying to start a conversation.
"I spent most of my life in the country," Sophie quickly lied, smiling politely back.
"His lordship did not see it fit for Sophie to mingle with the ton. What with her background being as low as it is," Araminta added.
Her smile faltered for a second, but Sophie was able to keep it up, forcing herself to take a deep breath. The sooner this was over, the sooner she could leave.
But she had not gone unnoticed by Lady Violet. The older woman frowned with concern as she watched Sophie slowly shrink in on herself, trying to look smaller.
"Still, I doubt that should have been a barrier," she remarked, her pale eyes snapping back towards Araminta.
"Is there anyone you can think of who might have done this?" Anthony interjected, getting back to the point at hand.
"Of course not, Lord Bridgerton," Araminta replied. "My best guess is someone wished to bring scandal to both our names. For all I know, it could have been Whistledown, trying to create her own drama to write about."
"Unlikely, given her pamphlet today made no mention of my family and any recent engagements," Anthony replied.
"She most likely will tomorrow, though," Araminta said back.
"Yes, now that she knows, along with the rest of the city," Anthony responded tightly with an unimpressed look. It was apparent he was not happy with the responses Araminta was giving.
"It may be best for us all to figure out how we will be handling this moving forward. We can focus on who is behind all of this later," Violet said this time.
"Well, it seems rather simple to me," Araminta retorted. "We just informed the printer to report the engagement is now off."
There was a loose string on the wrist of the lace glove Sophie borrowed from Rosamund. An old pair she hadn't worn in years, and Sophie couldn't help but fiddle with the thin string hanging off from the fabric, rolling it between her thumb and index finger as she only half listened to the conversation.
"There will be talk, of course," Violet told them. "But we should be able to make this work out in our favor. Make this look amicable on both parts."
"A few public appearances here and there, and if we all stay to the same story when someone asks, I'm sure we can keep the rest of the ton off our backs," Anthony added.
"My daughters will be more than welcome to help," Araminta told them with a genuine, excited smile. "Sophie will unfortunately be returning to the country at the end of this week, but I'm sure we can make it work without her."
More like the broom closet of Penwood House.
But Sophie didn't like the look that crossed her stepmother's face. Her stepmother had just been told the Bridgertons would willingly interact with her and in public, no less. Sophie suspected she was already scheming to figure out a way to make this benefit her and Rosamund.
"Well," Sophie turned back towards Violet, who was speaking, and gave her a sympathetic smile. "It will certainly be much quieter in the country."
"Yes, yes, she's incredibly lucky," Araminta added, with an edge in her voice only Sophie could recognize.
Maybe it wasn't the broom closet she was being sent to.
~~~
After conceiving the story they would be using, the Bridgertons having decided they would be the ones to go to the printer's shop to have the announcement made, Sophie was preparing to leave with Araminta. Lady Violet, the only one who had followed them to the carriage to see them off, while her sons remained standing on the front steps, watching them.
Sophie curtsied quickly to the dowager viscountess. "Thank you for hosting us, Lady Violet."
"Oh, it was no worry. It was lovely to meet you. Safe travels back," Lady Violet replied, speaking to her and only her as Araminta seemed to wish to be anywhere else, speaking with the carriage driver.
"Miss Beckett?" a voice called out behind her. A voice Sophie recognized.
Sophie turned and blinked in surprise as she found a familiar face coming towards her.
"John?" she tilted her head towards the side.
Dressed in similar lilac-colored uniforms as the other Bridgerton footmen, wig and all, was John Baker, the son of her father's butler. His family had worked for his father until he'd passed; his mother was one of the maids, and John had been assigned to the stables when he'd gotten old enough to be able to do manual labor. After Sophie's father died, the Bakers had taken their final payment and a letter of recommendation before leaving for London, having no interest in working for Araminta now that the earl was gone.
"You two know each other?" Lady Violet asked, glancing between the pair.
"Um, we were friends when we were children," Sophie told her quickly.
John nodded. "My family worked for the Earl of Penwood, your ladyship."
John had been a few years older than her but was one of the only children close enough in age for her to play with, given she wasn't allowed to interact with the children from the village. They'd chased each other around the grounds of Penwood Park when they were very little. John was one of the few to keep her company, given her father, stepmother, and stepsisters had never given her any.
Sophie had run into John the month prior at the markets one morning, recognizing her old friend when he'd been on his off day and not wearing his uniform she saw him in now. He'd been equally surprised to see her in London and to see her dressed as a maid, no less. At first, she'd done her best to hide what had happened since he'd left with his family, but John had caught on quickly to what Araminta had done to her.
They'd chatted while she went through the market, purchasing the items Miss Gibbons had sent her out to fetch, and during it, she may have finally admitted to her old friend everything that had happened. Everything Araminta had done since her father died, up to the night she'd slipped out without anyone noticing, to attend a ball.
"I did not realize you worked for the Gunningworths," Violet replied to John, looking surprised.
"My parents took a position in the city after his death. To be closer to my mother's family," John told her. "Miss Beckett and I have not seen each other for quite some time now."
"You look well, John," Sophie remarked, giving him a smile.
"As do you," John replied. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"Oh, just fixing some small miscommunication. I believe it's all been settled," Sophie shrugged off nervously, not sure whether she should disclose what had happened to him in front of his current employer.
"Yes, it's all been settled now," Lady Violet smiled. "It was wonderful to meet you, Sophie, even under rather stressful circumstances."
"Come, Sophie," Araminta ordered curtly from where she stood by the carriage. "Let's go."
"You're leaving already?" John asked, seeming confused before glancing back to where the elder Bridgerton sons were standing.
"Well, we did settle everything we needed to," Sophie told him politely.
"Sophia!" Araminta snapped from the carriage. "Now!"
Sophie cringed, while Lady Violet only raised a brow at Araminta's curt orders but said nothing. She stepped aside so that Sophie could leave.
Reaching out to grab the carriage door, knowing Araminta wouldn't hold it for her and the driver had already climbed up onto his seat, an arm reached out past her and grabbed it before she could even place her hand on it.
"No, here," John stepped forward. "Let me get that for you."
~~~
They had yet to leave.
After all the polite chatting and planning, Benedict was exhausted. The whole situation was exhausting, and now he was stuck playing niceties with the Reiling girls for the next few weeks.
He just wanted them gone. The Countess and Sophie.
And they looked about to see if his mother would finish her conversation with Sophie. Even the Countess appeared to have the same feeling about him, looking rather bored and impatient as his mother saw them off.
He impatiently tapped his foot against the ground enough that his brother quietly admonished him to stop. He couldn't help it. He just wanted the day to be over. And they were so close. The seconds felt like agonizing hours as Benedict waited.
And then Footman John appeared. Benedict frowned, watching the man greet Sophie like she was an old friend, and by the looks of it, they seemed to know each other. Strange. How on earth did they know one another?
The pair chatted happily together, briefly, as his mother seemed to ask a few questions before the countess ordered Sophie into the carriage. That they were leaving.
Finally.
But then, Footman John stepped forward and moved his arm up to hold the carriage door open for Sophie, covering the top part of her face. Given her height, only her nose and jaw could be seen as she turned to thank him.
It felt like the floor gave out under him.
Benedict froze. His heart stuttered as it almost stopped completely in his chest. It couldn't be.
He knew that jaw. Those lips. He'd drawn it a thousand times. Seen in his dreams, found himself haunted by it and been practically tormented by it as the image followed his thoughts while he drifted through the days listlessly in search of her. As it became more and more apparent, he would never find her.
Until now.
It couldn't be her. It wasn't possible.
The Lady in Silver.
She was here. She had been here the entire afternoon. Standing right in front of him, he hadn't realized.
No wonder he thought he knew her from somewhere. His heart had been yelling at him the entire time she'd stood before him, and his mind had never caught on to it. Never put two and two together. But the pieces had finally fallen into place.
And she was leaving. If he didn't stop her, he was going to lose her again.
"Wait!" he yelled, rushing down the stairs.
"Benedict?" he heard his mother say, alarmed, as he raced towards the carriage, hastily moving past her.
"Wait!" he yelled again, grabbing at the carriage door to prevent them from leaving. John, thankfully, stepped aside in surprise, giving him the space he needed.
"Mr. Bridgerton, what on earth–?" Lady Penwood started from inside the carriage, but he wasn't focused on her. He was too focused on the woman standing outside it, staring up at him with wide, petrified eyes, to care about the countess.
"It's you," he breathed out.
"I'm sorry?" Sophie blinked at him, confused.
"That night. Two months ago. The Lady in Silver. That's you," he said, watching as her wide eyes somehow widened further.
"I-I have n-no idea what you are talking about," she nervously stuttered.
"I've spent the past two months searching day and night for you, and here you are," he huffed a laugh, still in disbelief. "All this time, and I never realized."
"What do you mean you've met before?" Araminta snapped from inside the carriage. "Sophie. What is the meaning of this?"
The fearful look that flashed over Sophie's face as she glanced back toward the countess had tugged something within Benedict, making him ready to put himself directly in between them if necessary.
"I-I… It's nothing, your ladyship. He's just confused," Sophie quickly told her.
And then he realized. Two months. It had been two months since he'd seen her. But the countess had said she'd just arrived in the city that week. That she'd been in the county since the season began.
The countess, who was the same woman that had told him, to his face, that no other woman lived at Penwood House. No one but the staff.
"You've been here all this time?" he said, and Sophie looked back at him. "How?"
"Because she's a maid," Footman John said quietly next to him and he looked at the man with alarm. "Lady Penwood forced her to be her servant after the late earl passed."
The staff. She'd said no other woman lived in the house except staff.
"She what?" his mother asked, aghast, having approached from behind him.
"I did nothing of the sort," Araminta shot at them defensively. "She's been living at Penwood Park. The new lord cares for her out of the kindness of his own heart after my late husband left her nothing."
"He left her an inheritance. A dowry," John corrected, eyes dark as he glared at the countess. "To be managed until she turned twenty, after which the solicitor would help her manage it until she married, and it was handed off to her husband. My father saw his will. Multiple times. She'd get four thousand pounds a year after his death, and Sophie hasn't seen a single coin from it in all these years."
"What? I have a what?" Sophie asked quietly, stunned by the news she was only just learning.
"Two thousand pounds a year increased to six if you continued caring for her until she was of age," John grounded out at Araminta. "He didn't trust the new earl to be able to, what with his drinking habits, so he put the clause in to guarantee you would. He thought you'd get her married off quickly, and instead, you forced her into servitude."
"You have no proof," Araminta hissed.
"Is there a copy of this will anywhere?" Violet asked gently.
John shrugged. "The solicitor may have one, but it's been years since I last saw him."
"He left me a dowry?" Sophie said. Benedict finally noticed how pale she'd gone; the color all but vanished from her face. She was shaking.
"Why on earth would you do that to the poor girl?" Violet demanded.
Araminta had decided to finally drop the pleasantries altogether, her worry turning to fierce fury, her lip curling into an ugly sneer.
"Because the girl is nothing more than a bastard," she hissed.
“What?”
“She’s my late husband’s bastard,” Araminta repeated. “The daughter of some whore.”
“Good lord,” Violet gasped quietly at the news, taken a back as well.
Benedict wouldn't deny the surprise he felt at this, followed ever so briefly by concern. Sophie was a bastard? There was nothing to suggest it except, but if the rest of the ton where to discover—
Concern over whether not he could or should be with Sophie, a flash of worry about how his family would handle this, briefly shot through him. He would hate himself later for it, but Benedict hesitated. He hesitated on the idea of being with Sophie.
But when he glanced towards her, seeing she was now shaking, her eyes wide and filled with fear, he knew the only thing he wanted to do was keep her safe. To be by her side. The last thing he cared about was what the rest of society thought about him. All he wanted was to be with her.
"I don't care," he told Araminta, a protective fury building in him now.
The countess was momentarily taken aback by this, faltering briefly before the furious rage returned to her icy eyes.
"You want to marry a bastard, then, by all means, do so. I'm certain the ton will be interested to hear exactly who Sophie Beckett truly is," she hissed.
But Benedict glared furiously back at her, his hand clenched into a tight fist at his side. At that moment in time, he was completely prepared to throw a fist at the countess, but his mother suddenly stepped in front of him.
"You will do no such thing," she snapped.
"You think I'll allow some lowly bastard like her to marry into this society?" Araminta shot back.
"Oh, I think you will. In fact, I think it would be best if you give nothing but your best wishes to pair whenever you are asked," Violet coldly told her. "If this dowry has been mismanaged and withheld from Miss Beckett all these years, then I believe it would be best to investigate where exactly it has gone. Our solicitor will be more than welcome to seek out the truth on this matter."
"You have no proof," Araminta repeated.
"Then I will send word immediately to your late husband's solicitor and the new earl. And I will not stop until I find it," Violet informed her. "I doubt you'll be able to afford that. What with the recent financial difficulties I've heard you've been having. Unpaid debts at the modiste."
Araminta stiffened, revealing his mother's assumptions to be true.
"Your financial difficulties have certainly been the talk of the town lately. I'm surprised Whistledown hasn't pointed out how you have remained in London after the social season was over while the rest of us returned to the country these past few years. Trouble with the new lord?" Violet inquired, knowingly, moving closer to the carriage. "And it is not as if you haven't been without your own accusations. Your last marriage was rather rushed. Wasn't it? I doubt the late earl was happy it left him without a male heir. That was the reason he returned to London that season. And let's not forget your second marriage was done rather hastily, too. If I recall, your eldest was born soon after that? Seven months after your marriage to Lord Reiling. And perfectly healthy, too. Must have been a blessing for you that she took more after you in appearance than her father."
Araminta blanched; mouth open in shock at what Violet had alluded to before white-hot fury flashing in her eyes. "How dare you–"
"How dare I what?" Violet snapped, head held high as she stepped towards the other woman again, and somehow, even as she stood below her due to the carriage, Violet was still able to look down at her. "Remind everyone of old rumors you did nothing to prevent or deny. Three scandalous marriages, Araminta, and not a single whisper. I am more than welcome to point out to the others that you are in no position to cast a stone at my family if you dare to speak out. Your past will certainly help deflect any gossip you direct towards us."
Violet stopped briefly, allowing her threats to linger, watching the shocked and grave expression grow on Araminta's face before continuing. "But I suppose I would be willing to hold my tongue as long as you hold yours."
"B-But, sh-she's…she is a–" Araminta stuttered.
"Daughter of the late Charles and Maria Beckett last I heard," Violet informed her curtly, the threatening tone having yet to disappear. "And I think, for the benefit of your dwindling reputation, Araminta, that you would be best to remember that."
Araminta was silent, stuck glaring at Violet, who only raised a dark brow back at her as the seconds ticked by.
"Right?" she added, slowly.
After a few additional seconds of silence, Araminta nodded. "Fine," she muttered at her, before glaring at Sophie. "Don't even think about returning to Penwood House. You are no longer welcome there."
"I wasn't welcomed there, to begin with," Sophie quietly retorted back.
"And she certainly has no need to go there, ever again," Violet said to Araminta. "I'd say it was good seeing you, but we both know that would be a lie. Good day, Lady Penwood."
And with that, his mother slammed the carriage door in the countess's stunned, furious face, before turning back towards the pair and smiling. "Well, I believe that settles it. I suppose your brother and I will have to get a special license. Won't we?"
"Have I told you how wonderful of a mother you are?" Benedict smiled.
"Not today, you haven't," his mother replied with a smile of her own.
Benedict leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you."
"It was no issue, sweetheart," Violet replied. "Now, I need to get in contact with the archbishop. If you would both excuse me."
She quickly departed back into Number 5, with John following close behind, returning to his place by the front door, leaving the pair to watch the Penwood carriage pass by, the cracking of reins and whining of horses before it raced away. Araminta was glowering as she sat within, not daring to glance out the window towards them as the carriage set off. Once it had disappeared around the corner, Benedict glanced back towards Sophie, finding her watching the road with a sullen, anxious look gracing her perfect features.
"What's wrong?" he asked her gently, concerned.
"You really want this?" she asked him, hesitantly. "To marry me."
"Of course, I do," he told her.
"You're better off without me," Sophie told him with a sigh.
Benedict slipped his hand in with hers, stepping closer to her. "I'll be the judge of that."
She gave him a look, her head tilting to the side as her eyes grew sad. "You barely know me."
He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. "I learned enough about you that night to know I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he told her, his breath tickling over the skin of her fingers. He smiled. "And if you're that worried, we'll at least have three days to get to know each other better. My mother is an expert at getting special licenses."
“Three days?” Sophie eyes’ almost bugged out of her skull.
He only chuckled. “Well, the announcement was already made. And the less time I have to wait, the better. I don’t believe we need to wait for the banns to be read. Do you?”
Sophie smiled back at him, shaking her head. Slowly, but the corners of her lips pulled upwards eventually. A soft pink hue developed over her cheeks and nose as she blushed. God, she was beautiful.
He pulled her close, linking his arm with hers. "Come. Let's introduce you to everyone else," Benedict told her. "I can finally rub it in their faces that you are in fact very much real, and that I didn't imagine you. It will be quite the surprise for them."
After a moment of lingering hesitance, Sophie linked her arm with him, allowing him to escort her up the front steps and to a far better future than what had once been. Neither one noticing the smile Footman John had as he watched them head inside.
While this writer was certainly surprised to hear about the sudden marriage announcement between Mr. Benedict Bridgerton and a young Miss Sophia Beckett, it appears the couple are so helplessly in love they just could not wait to marry.
This author had heard whispers from Kent of a young ward catching the eye of the eligible second Bridgerton son, but it was a genuine mistake of mine to not investigate it further. You all must forgive me for not reporting it to you sooner, I've just never been interested in gossip from the county. It's always so dreadfully boring the news that comes from there.
Let me at least give my many blessings to the happy couple, and best of luck with the nuptials. Many, including yours truly, are ever so interested in knowing how they met.
But alas, we'll all just have to wait until they return from the honeymoon to learn that story.
– Lady Whistledown Reports
| The Day Before the Announcement |
John knew it was a mistake. Coming here.
He really needed to stop involving himself in the lives of his employers. It was getting out of hand.
But Eloise had begged him to deliver one last letter for her. A final apology was written in the envelope he held clasped in his hand, so she finally ceased caring for Theo, the printer's assistant. He had no idea if it was a good idea if it would help, but he liked Eloise. As brash as she could get with him, she did bring amusement, and he'd felt sorry for how Whistledown had treated her recently.
He'd helped her before. That's why she asked him.
As he entered the printer's shop, John was forced to wait in line behind another scrawny-looking man, who was currently speaking with the shop owner.
"My employer wishes for it to go out tomorrow," the man told him.
"It will cost extra," the shop owner grunted as he skimmed over the small piece of paper. He then scoffed. "What's this? The third marriage announcement from the Bridgertons in the past year? I thought that Viscount was already married?"
John froze, immediately on alert at the mention of his employer's name, and then frowned as he thought over the information he'd heard. A marriage announcement? Not one of the unmarried Bridgertons were engaged. And Lord Bridgerton had only just returned from his honeymoon a few months ago. The man in front of him was certainly not employed in the house either, John would have recognized him.
"Lady Penwood is willing to pay as much as you need," the man retorted, dropping a bag of coin on the counter. "Just get it out tonight, or she'll have my head and yours."
John's frown deepened. Lady Penwood was a name he hadn't heard in years but one he knew always came with trouble. His recent interaction with her stepdaughter, Sophie, had confirmed the suspicions he'd held towards her since the moment his father's old employer had returned to Penwood Park with her.
The shop owner pulled open the small pouch in front of him, giving a quick count of what he could see, and nodded. "Alright. I can get it printed out tonight and sent out in the morning run." He then looked over his shoulder and shouted. "Theo! Get over here!"
The other man nodded his thanks before turning to hastily depart the shop. John confirmed he was undoubtedly not another footman or employee in the Bridgerton house as the man passed him by. Meaning he had to work for Lady Penwood.
And he'd been discussing a marriage announcement. To whom, John had no idea, but he knew it was probably with Lady Penwood's eldest and more favored daughter, Rosamund. A woman John wouldn't wish on any man.
"Get this note sent up for print, and fast, boy," the shop owner told Theo. "I'll be in the back if you need me. You can help the next customer before you get to work."
Theo glanced towards John, eyes widening as he recognized him, while his employer disappeared further back into the shop.
"John, isn't it?" Theo asked once they were alone.
"What was that about the Bridgertons and a marriage announcement?" John demanded quickly, approaching the counter. "None of them are being courted right now, let alone engaged."
His questioning led the young printer's assistant to read over the paper he'd been handed, eyes widening as he recognized the names himself.
"It says Benedict Bridgerton is marrying Rosamund Reilling," he told him, glancing back up. "Benedict is Eloise's older right?"
"Benedict isn't engaged," John informed him harshly, ignoring his question. He knew for a fact he wasn't about to marry. Unless he'd finally found the Lady in Silver, or Sophie Beckett as John had learned, but he would have known by now if he had.
"I believe you," Theo replied softly. "But why would someone do this?"
"To force a marriage to prevent a scandal. It's one of the oldest tricks in the book," John replied, recalling how it had almost happened to the eldest Bridgerton daughter. "The man who was just here was employed by Lady Penwood, Miss Reiling's mother. She most likely wants to force an engagement for her own personal gain. You cannot allow that to be published."
"John, I have a job to do," Theo retorted with a sigh. "If I don't put this in, I'll be let go."
"But it's not true! Your boss is likelier to get stuck with a slander accusation if he publishes it. He'll be ruined," John argued. "You'll cause more harm than good by putting that in."
"I won't lose my job," Theo shot back. "I'm sorry. I really am. I don't want to do this to Eloise's family either, but I've got people counting on me. My hands are tied. Unless you have a better idea, I'm putting this note in tonight."
He opened his mouth to argue further, but John could not think of anything else. Of anything that would convince Theo to throw away the note. He'd been through enough himself, and losing his job, his only source of income would only add to that.
Seeing he had nothing else to say, Theo sighed, telling him to have a good day before heading back towards the large printer to get it set up.
"Wait!"
Theo turned to look at him.
"What if you change the name?" John asked.
Theo thought about it for a second before nodding. "If you have a name I can use instead, I'll probably be able to get away with that."
He did. He knew exactly which name to give.
Oh, but she was going to kill him when she found out. And so were the Bridgertons.
But after the last conversation he'd had with her when he'd seen what had happened to her, John couldn't allow her to stay in that house any longer. And if he was right about what he'd learned from her and what he'd seen from Benedict, this may work out for the best.
And, besides, it was better than being married to Rosamund Reiling.
"Sophia. Put down Sophia Beckett. Here. Give it to me. I'll write it down for you."
#my fics.#did I take the p&p (2005) hand scene for this fic's image#absolutely I did#and am I back again with another fic#lets not talk about that my brain just finally put it together for this one as well#benophie#sophie beckett#benedict bridgerton#Bridgerton fics
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The Portrait
Thomas Armitage was considered one of the most coveted portraitists in London and his talent for capturing real life people on canvas was almost unrivalled.
When a letter arrived on a Tuesday morning requesting his services for painting a portrait of the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton, he believed that it was going to be another typical painting session, where the gentleman and the lady stood and/or sat stoic with the room feeling cold and emotionless just like the people inhabiting it. He could finish his work in around six sittings, it was a simple and trouble-free affair where the pay was rewarding, if not the work and he didn't have to think twice before accepting the offer. He could get a handsome sum and spend time on actual art that he was passionate about without worrying about money for a few months.
Thomas arrived at Aubrey Hall on a Friday morning. He got out of carriage and looked around, he was truly impressed by the beautiful estate, its well maintained green grounds already giving him ideas to begin. But first, he wanted to get a look at the subjects that he was painting.
He had heard of the Viscount, the most eligible bachelor of the prior season though that was not a guarantee of his beauty or character, people in the Ton might have been looking at the title and not the person. However, he did remember reading in the gossip sheets about him being a rake, so there was a probability that the Viscount was a good-looking charmer, but then again, he had money and power.
Coming to the Viscountess, he had read about her in the papers when their engagement was announced. Kate Sharma was the sister of the Diamond of the season, he remembered reading about her being compared to a singed flower. The most eligible bachelor of the season married the sister and not the diamond, that indeed was curious to him. He decided that he will refrain from making any judgements before meeting the two of them.
A footman came and ushered him inside. The inside of the building was as beautiful as it was on the outside and he looked around in appreciation.
The footman led him to the morning room and he entered inside.
Did the man not announce his arrival to the Viscount and Viscountess?
On the couch at the left side of the room sat a chestnut-haired man, his arms around a beautiful woman and a golden-white corgi relaxing on the rug near their feet. The man and woman were laughing softly, unaware of his presence, the room felt warm and cozy and even though their positions were not in any way scandalous, he felt like he was interrupting an intimate moment.
He softly cleared his throat and the two of them turned their head and looked at him.
“Hello! You must be Mr. Armitage. Welcome to Aubrey Hall. I hope you had a pleasant journey?”
The Viscount spoke from his seat, comfortably perched next to his wife, uncannily resembling a rosy-faced lovebird.
Thomas looked at them, feeling quite awkward and replied,
“Yes, sir!”
“Anthony!” The woman whispered and he seemed to realize his mistake.
The Viscount stood up from the couch, his left hand not leaving his wife’s shoulder.
“My apologies!”
The Viscount smiled at him warmly, flashing his dimples. He came forward and greeted Thomas.
“Welcome to Aubrey Hall, Mr. Armitage!”
“Thank you, my Lord!”
“Mr. Armitage, may I introduce my wife, Lady Kate Bridgerton.”
Lady Kate Bridgerton had curly black hair and a warm smile. He knew that the papers, the gossip columns especially, exaggerated, but comparing this lady to a singed flower was an outright lie.
Thomas curtsied. “Pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
“I’ve had the pleasure of viewing your work, Mr. Armitage and I truly admire your paintings.”
Lady Kate Bridgerton smiled at him politely.
“My wife is an artist herself.” The Viscount added before Thomas could reply, his chest puffing with pride.
“The Viscount exaggerates. I water colour landscapes mostly, nothing as illustrious as yours.”
“I beg to differ. The Viscountess is just being modest.”
The Viscount was looking at his wife longingly, his hand now resting on her waist. The two of them continued staring at each other, lost in themselves.
Thomas found that the room suddenly felt stifling, despite it being mid-November and for the second time in the brief ten minutes, he felt like he was interrupting them. He now knew why the footman did not announce his arrival. If the Viscount and Viscountess continued to act like this, his job was going to take much longer. He wished that he had done some research about his clients before accepting this engagement.
Normal, boring couples of the society, trapped in loveless marriages were far easier to manage than lovesick couples who clearly haven’t completed their honeymoon.
Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed it. 💖
#kate sharma#anthony bridgerton#netflix bridgerton#bridgerton#the viscount who loved me#bridgerton season 2#kathony#kanthony#anthony x kate#kate x anthony#bridgerton drabble#bridgerton fics#fanfic
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• Bridgerton!Sibling Fics •
Main Masterlist
Bridgerton Masterlist
Last Updated: July 18, 2022
Key: + = fluff, ^ = angst, § = favorite
Black Sheep ^
Your siblings finally take an interest in you
#Bridgerton#Bridgerton x reader#Bridgerton x sibling!reader#Bridgerton x brother!reader#Bridgerton x sister!reader#Bridgerton fanfic#Bridgerton Fics#bridgerton sibling
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So I made a collection - add your fics, one shots , drabbles!
Tagging a few writers:
@spitefularmand @waterlilyrose @viscountessevie @jeanvanjer @newtonsheffield @suitsusboth @thefudge @datsusara84 @hptriviachamp @mynewblackdress @aspoonfuloffiction @goodqueenalicunt @dollypopup @lizzibennet
#bridgerton#fic collection#ao3 fic#Tumblr fic#kate sharma#Edwina Sharma#Mary Sharma#Papa Sharma#bridgerton fics#fic rec
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recs blog | previous recs
sorry this is so late, my darlings! but happy end of april, i hope your month was great and filled with nothing but the best vibes!
shockingly i didn’t consume as much fic as i would have liked within the month, but the ones that i did were absolutely amazing and helped fight the depresh.
as usual i am thanking every one of you talented souls for sharing your beautiful work with the world, you make this hellsite better <3
18+ ONLY MINORS DNI with the works below. unless it’s stated otherwise. heed warnings and authors notes please.
MARVEL
Predictive Text by @rae-gar-targaryen (tasm!peter parker)
Never Better by @fluffyprettykitty (sam wilson)
MOON KNIGHT
While We Untangle by @charnelhouse (steven grant)
Monday Mornings by @slightlypossessed (steven grant)
Soft Dark Nothing by @burnthoneymint (steven grant)
Stuck by @psithurista (marc spector)
Compulsion by @/fluffyprettykitty (marc spector)
Taste by @wint3r-h3art (marc spector)
The Edge Of Oblivion by @/wint3r-h3art (marc spector)
Don’t Start Now by @/burnthoneymint (marc spector)
DC
Haven by @greenorangevioletgrass (bruce wayne)
TRIPLE FRONTIER
Untitled by @/charnelhouse (frankie morales)
Daddy by @/charnelhouse (santiago garcia)
Push & Shove by @ozarkthedog (santiago garcia + frankie morales)
Comfort Me by @astroboots (santiago garcia + frankie morales)
Same Room by @pedrito-friskito (frankie morales)
BRIDGERTON
The Duchess by @myspy (anthony bridgerton)
please do not spam like the works above, no one likes a spam liker. comments and reblogs are always the better way to show your appreciation to content creators.
if you would like me to remove your works within this list, for whatever reason, please let me know and i will kindly do so!
#fic recs#peter parker fics#steven grant fics#moon knight fics#marc spector fics#sam wilson fics#bruce wayne fics#santiago garcia fics#frankie morales fics#anthony bridgerton fics#bridgerton fics#smut recommendations#fic recommendations#april fic recs#monthly fic recs !
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I love all of your fics, but especially "An Urgent Message!" I'm sure you've gotten this before, but any chance for a follow-up? Even a lil epilogue summarizing how the rest of the season went for those crazy kids? Cheers!
I'm fairly certain over half of the comments on An Urgent Message include a plea for me to expand on the story. One was even in Hungarian according to Google Translate. When I posted the story, I thought it was perfectly fine as is and didn't need a follow-up, but after all of the responses I got to it (and the responses I still get!), I haven't ruled out the possibility.
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Don’t Go Where I Can’t Follow: A Made of Honor AU
Chapter 4 is now posted! Kate and Anthony are now in university and somebody starts to feel the feelings!
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You definitely deserve being mentioned in this article! Your Benophie fics are among the best out there🥰And the sheer amount of it! I'm still amazed how you do it. Incredible!🤗
Awww thank you nonnie 🥰🥰🥰🥰
Honestly it was so bizarre when I was sent it and it reappears and it’s given me the little boost I needed as I was feeling a bit meh about everything.
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the language of flowers — part three, peonies
warnings: angst, less than usual though, and arguing between Anthony and reader bc what did we expect from our fav couple??
word count: 1.5k (im totally on a roll)
author’s note: hi pookies! anthony is a total charmer in this one, and it’s a bit rushed?? idk personally i feel like it’s really bad but whatevs i guess.
read previous parts! — part one, daises | part two, irises
i don’t consent for my work to be reposted or copied, translated, or transferred to any other platform, or this one, in part or whole.
--------- . . . ---------
iii. 1807, paeonia lactiflora. peonies, regret
The sight of your second brother’s engagement ball should have put your heart at peace, and the familiar sight of the most eligible bachelors and debutantes dancing in the hall comforting, but today, strangely, was the opposite. Gold decor and soft yellow candlelight was one of the things most known to you, yet you were uneasy, glancing around the ballroom fervently, looking for something—someone—you desperately wanted to avoid.
Or perhaps it wasn’t strange at all. You knew precisely what was causing your nervous pacing, and it might have had something to do with the fact that your mother had invited her best friend, who just happened to be one Violet Bridgerton, and her children to your brother’s engagement ball.
You fiddle with the clasp of your bracelet unconsciously, and look up to see them. The ton’s perfect family, of course, the Bridgertons. And what made your heart pang even more was the sight of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton with a bouquet of flowers in his hand—peonies…?
Ever since that fateful argument in the dark-haired boy’s study, your contact had been limited to necessary formalities and a peculiar bouquet of peonies that mysteriously appeared on your doorstep each week, on Wednesday, without fail. Why Wednesdays, you truly had no idea, but he had made no effort to apologize to you, or do anything other than pretend everything was fine for the past two years, so instead, you had unintentionally gotten closer to the second Bridgerton brother, Benedict.
You quickly approached the latter, fingers twitching, head pounding, only to be intercepted by Anthony Bridgerton on a day you most certainly did not want to deal with his egotistical, narcissistic arse (you were being a bit too harsh, but of course, he deserved it). His typically confident and charismatic demeanor was on full display as he gracefully stepped in front of you, a smug smile playing on his lips.
“A pound for your thoughts, darling?” He held out his hand, as if attempting to offer a dance, perhaps in the only method he knew how. You ignored his hand, opting instead for a curt, chaste curtsy, and quickly righted yourself.
You bite the inside of your lip, restraining yourself from pinning this man to the ground and beating the life out of him. “Viscount Bridgerton,” you nod, your voice clipped. “What is the reason for you to talk to me? And, if I may ask, what are you doing here? Do you not have other responsibilities you must tend to, and as such, you are far too busy to gallivanting to weddings or engagement balls?” You sneer, referring to the last proper conversation the both of you had. One might even say that it could be regarded as less than a conversation.
“Why won’t you just let it go?” He sighs, exasperated. “I told you that my words were not true, so why are you holding this against me?” He gestures to the peonies in his hand. “I even brought—”
“Presents and flowers for the married couple-to-be will be placed on the table adjacent to the orchestra,” you say absentmindedly, waving your hands in that general direction.
He takes your wrist, a sudden heat feeling certainly enveloping you. “You know damn well what these flowers are,” he clenches his teeth. “What more do you desire from me? Would you like me begging for your forgiveness, at your feet, right here?”
Your eyes widen. “Do not do that, or I will make it my personal mission that I will never speak with you henceforth.” You bite your lip nervously. If Anthony truly does this, it would seem as though there had been something romantic between the two of you, which would be a nightmare to handle.
Anthony grinned. “Then why don’t you accept the flowers, and we can both get on with how we used to be, alright?” He seemed nervous, his eyes blinking far too rapidly, his fingers fiddling with his cufflinks and the lapel of his jacket.
“What?” You had thought it wasn’t possible for your eyes to widen further, but clearly, you were wrong. “How we were before? Do you even have the bloody idea how much your words hurt me?” Your words were quiet, but this was two years of rage ebbing inside you. You stuck a finger on his clothed chest, (regrettably, only to find rock hard muscle), and quickly pulled back.
“How did my words hurt you?” You looked at his face, of which pain was cast over. His eyes were looking at you as if you’d committed some grave deed, that he was responsible for.
The audacity of his question left you momentarily speechless. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to keep your composure. "I don't believe it's necessary to discuss personal matters at a celebration, Viscount Bridgerton. Now, if you'll excuse me—"
In this moment, you were reminded of Anthony’s hand around your wrist, in the sense that he gripped it tightly and heaved you into a nearby hallway, his palm sweaty, and his eyes flashing with hints of both anger and annoyance. He placed you against the wall, breathing deeply, and his hands resting firmly on your hips.
“What is the meaning of this?” You snap. “What are you doing? It’s my brother’s engagement ball, and I do not have the mental capacity at this moment to deal with whatever plan you have concocted in your mind to try to win me back, or anything, alright?”
Anthony's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration and sincerity evident in his gaze. "I'm not here to win you back with some grand gesture, if that's what you think," he replied, his voice a touch more gentle than before. "I'm here because I genuinely want to make amends, darling. I can't keep pretending that everything is alright with me, when it clearly isn't."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you met his gaze, searching for any hint of sincerity. It was hard to believe that the man standing in front of you, who exuded confidence and charm to the outside world, was capable of admitting his mistakes and showing vulnerability.
"I've been carrying the weight of those words for two years," he continued, his voice earnest. "And I can't bear the thought of you holding onto that pain any longer. Pain caused because of me, and the fact that even a single tear shed your eye because of my carelessness is not something I can live with, do you understand? I…” he looks at you, inching closer, till your faces are merely inches apart. “I care for you, and I cannot have one more thought of you feeling this way due to my actions.”
You can smell his breath, and surprisingly, you don’t find a hint of whiskey, or any alcoholic substance that might have forced this long overdue confession out. Instead, you’re met with the familiar scent of citrus, and the musk of sandalwood from his body.
“Words have consequences, Anthony,” you say, sighing, “you cannot merely throw them around like knives and expect one not to be wounded.”
Anthony's expression softened, and you could see genuine remorse in his eyes. He took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself, and his hands on your hips loosened their grip, becoming more tender. "You're right," he admitted, his voice laced with regret. "I've come to realize the weight of my words, the damage they've caused, and I can't undo the past, but I can try to right things now."
And suddenly, like someone, or something else was speaking for you, you said the words you’d been longing to say for the past two years. “I forgive you,” you say, smiling softly. “But just answer one question.”
“Yes?” His face is hopeful, his eyes sparkling and his demeanor lit up like you hadn’t seen before in a long while. “Ask me anything, whatever you need.”
You bite your lip. “Why did you send me peonies every week? And don’t try to lie to me, and say that it wasn’t you.” You look up into his eyes, finally about to ge the answer to the question plaguing you for the past two years.
Instead of nervousness, he stifled a chuckle. “I though you, queen of flowery symbolism, would understand. When you gave me the bouquet of irises, you had included a paragraph from a book, the guide for flowers, or something of the sort. I perused the book to see anything I could give you, and eventually chose peonies, for regret.”
Your face fell. “So you’d been apologizing all this time? And I was merely ignoring you?” You squeezed his hand tightly.
Anthony shrugged. “It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that we’re each other’s best friends again, and believe me, I am not letting you out of my sight.” He mischievously grinned before picking you up, just as he had all those years before, in his arms. “How does a cup of lemonade in the garden sound, darling?”
”Will I ever go to a garden without you carrying me in? Nevertheless, fine, alright.” You smiled against his biceps, finally at peace with both your restless heart and your yearning mind, in the arms of the man you loved all too much, and whom you had left all too long.
taglist: @misscaller06 !
#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x y/n#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton#bridgerton netflix#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fic rec#bridgerton fics#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x you#Bridgerton x female reader
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1 step forward, 3 steps back
Nearly thirty years before Mary Sharma returned to London after decades of living abroad, she meets the young, newly arrived future queen of England. She finds Charlotte to be proud, beautiful, and slightly intimidating; Charlotte finds her to be a lovely new version of home. Together, they find comfort in each other that they seem to lack everywhere else.
Themes: friends to lovers to enemies to lovers, youth love, growing up, betrayal | Length: part 1- 4.3k
Read on ao3 | masterlist
#bridgerton fic#bridgerton fics#my fic#mary sharma#queen charlotte#I fully realize this is going to be my least popular fic#but I've put a lot into developing them as characters and giving them a backstory that makes sense#hope you give it a chance/like it!#pt 1 we just have some innocent love and understanding#pt 2 will be love and angst#:-)#I'm excited ab it even if 5 people read it
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What is the primary force that guides us along our paths? Is it our minds, or our hearts?
#bridgertonedit#coloredit#polinedit#tvedit#perioddramaedit#dailypolin#dailybridgerton#bridgertonblr#cinemapix#filmtvtoday#dailyflicks#bridgerton#polin#penelope featherington#colin bridgerton#bridgerton spoilers#edit#my gifs#years surviving off of fics and rereading rmb#and now we get a million stills dropped in one day and new promo almost daily#i'd kill to have a 4k dl for the trailer though but alas
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Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)
part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
***
One year ago
„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”
“What irrational thoughts?”
“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”
“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—
“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”
“But-“
“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”
“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”
“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”
“There is no possibility that I-“
“Hush!”
“Mother I –“
“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.
“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”
“I will not!”
“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”
“Commitments!?”
“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”
“Mother!”
“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”
***
The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.
It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.
However-
Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.
Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.
Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.
Getting burned with the tea in response.
Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.
For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.
Next few visits were no better.
Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.
“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”
She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.
“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”
“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”
“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”
“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”
“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.
“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”
“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.
“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”
“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”
“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.
“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”
“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”
“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”
***
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.
Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it.
Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.
This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.
It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.
After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.
***
Now.
“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”
Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.
“What is so funny?”
“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”
“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Seem like you do after all.”
“Y/N…”
“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.
“Y/N…”
“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”
“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.
At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.
Being called too much, constantly.
Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.
And then meeting Anthony.
And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.
But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.
Too much.
Not enough.
And it made her angry.
“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”
“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.
“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.
“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.
“I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”
And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.
Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.
Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.
next part (finale!) : Just right
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#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton imagine#anthony bridgerton x you#anthony bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton fic#bridgerton angst#anthony bridgerton angst
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Bridgerton Halloween (Part 2)
Kate had purchased Charlotte's Elsa costume long back in August, knowing that it would be impossible to find one when it neared Halloween.
However, now that Anthony has decided to dress up as Anna to accompany their precious five-year-old, she had to find the costume for her husband less than nine days before Halloween.
She had thought that it was sweet of her husband to agree to dress up as a princess from a Disney movie and she did show her appreciation of his thought after they retired to bed that evening.
But by the end of next day, after rummaging through the nooks and corners of the internet, she decided that finding a Princess Anna costume to fit her 38-year-old husband was practically impossible.
She had to somehow find a costume, or she will go all out and make one if she had to, because the last thing that she wanted was to disappoint Charlotte. She remembered the excited look on her daughter's face and how much she was looking forward to dressing up as Elsa with her Papa.
Kate had somehow managed to find a large black top and green frock. She was not a professional by any means with needle and thread but altering and adjustments she can manage.
After endless hours of trial and error, sweat, blood and tears, she inspected her work and was satisfied with the results.
She dragged a sleepy Anthony to try on the dress and he silently obeyed his wife's command and did a twirl.
"Oh my! Look at me. I'm so pretty!" Anthony fluttered her eyelashes at her, and she burst out laughing.
When Kate recovered, she inspected him up and down, "Hmm. Not bad, Anthony or should I say Anna?"
Anthony bowed dramatically, "It's Princess Anna!"
Kate bit her lips to stop laughing again.
"Well, Princess Anna, aren't you going to shave your beard and mustache before Halloween?" She asked him, raising her eyebrows.
Anthony gasped, his hands flying to his beard, covering them as if to protect them.
"Kate! How could you?" He looked affronted.
"Princesses don't generally have beards and mustaches, husband, not saying they can't have. But Princess Anna definitely doesn't have a beard and mustache."
Anthony raised his hands. "Okay. First of all, you know how precious my beard is. Second, I remember you, my wife, enjoying them particularly many a time. Three, like you said, there's no rule that Princesses can't have beard and/or mustache."
Kate chuckled, her cheeks flushed, "All valid points. I will admit that I am partial towards that beard, darling."
Anthony opened his arms, "See? I knew it. And if it's any consolation, I can be Princess Anthony."
"Alright. That won't be necessary. We'll stick with Princess Anna." And then after a split second, she added, "At least in that dress."
Anthony winked at her, "I am open to modeling new clothes, Mrs. Bridgerton."
Kate rolled her eyes before leaning and kissing him passionately.
"We'll see, Mr. Bridgerton." She whispered against his lips.
It was chaos in the house on the day of Halloween. Edmund and Miles at eleven and thirteen were dressed up as Iron Man and Captain America.
They were waiting, impatiently, for Charlotte to come downstairs because Kate had given them a warning if they didn't, there will be dire consequences.
After what felt like hours to Ed and Miles, Charlotte came downstairs in a blue and silver dress. Her hair was braided, cheeks dusted with light pink blush and her tiny lips painted with pink lipstick.
The boys clapped loudly, cheering for their little sister.
"Oh, sweetheart. You look so pretty." Kate went and hugged Charlotte.
"Thank you, Amma. Do you like my make-up? I did it myself." She looked proud.
Kate nodded, smiling widely. "I love your make-up. Did Papa braid your hair?"
Charlotte nodded.
The cheers and claps of the boys died down as they took in their Papa, descending the stairs. The two looked at him, wide-eyed, mouths hanging open identically.
Anthony was wearing a dress, his chest hair was visible at the top, highlighted by the sweetheart neckline of the black top. The bottle green frock of the dress bellowed around him, but it fell short above his ankle. Yet, the highlight of the entire look was his face.
His beard and mustache were styled with gel, and it would have looked dashing were it not for the matching pink lipstick on his lips. His had also taken time to do his eyes. Kate was impressed with the wings he drew but the green eyeshadow kind of ruined the effect, clashing horribly with the pink lipstick.
Kate observed her boys' reaction to their Papa's look and bit her lips hard to stop herself from bursting out in laughter.
"Papa looks pretty, doesn't he?" Charlotte asked, jumping up and down with excitement.
"Yes, he does look extremely pretty."
Charlotte smiled widely, "I applied lipstick for him and the eyeshadows."
"It looks great, sweetheart." Kate spoke, prompting Anthony to twirl.
"My daughter is a professional." Anthony spoke and held his hand out to Charlotte.
"Shall we go, Princess?"
"Yes, Papa."
Ed looked at them, in alarm, "Papa, you're not going out with Charlotte, are you?"
Anthony looked at him, his eyebrows scrunched, "Of course, I am going with Charlotte. Why else would I dress up?"
"But you're wearing a dress." Ed protested and Miles nodded his head in agreement, beside him.
"And?"
"But you're a boy." Miles piped in.
"So?" Anthony asked, raising his eyebrows, staring at his boys.
"Boys don't wear dresses." Miles looked at him, affronted.
"Yes, only girls wear dresses." Edmund added, looking irritated.
"Where does it say that? I didn't know there was a rule." Anthony stared at them, and they looked at Kate for support only to be met with a steely stare.
The two of them exchanged glances and shuffled on their feet.
"But-"
"No. Listen to me when I say this. There aren't any rules that 'only boys are allowed to do this' or 'only girls are allowed to do that'. Everyone in this world have the freedom to do whatever they want, dress in whatever clothes they like or be whoever they want as long as they don't hurt another being. Let's stop policing everything, shall we?"
Ed and Miles nodded.
Anthony clapped his hands, smiling widely, "Now let me look at my boys. Ooh, wicked Iron Man and Captain America costumes."
Kate went and hugged them. She felt bad to see their small faces, but it was necessary that the boys grow up learning the right things.
She took her phone out, "Now, photo time everyone! Say cheese!"
"CHEESE!!"
Inspiration for bearded!Anna (bearded!Anthony) from @greenlightbulb-s comment on Part 1
#dad!anthony#dadthony#anthony bridgerton#kate sharma#charlotte bridgerton#edmund bridgerton ii#miles bridgerton#kanthony#kathony#anthony x kate#kate x anthony#bridgerton family#bridgerton#bridgerton netflix#the viscount who loved me#bridgerton modern au#bridgerton fics#fanfics
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