extremely delicate and light in a way that seems too perfect for this world
Nola Addington never reached for attention, it was always a given.
*I do not own any of Julia Quinn's work*
•will include scenes from "Bridgerton", along with quotes *and sc...
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••• "stop your crying, it's a sign of the times." •••
Lord Addington's Estate, 1800
It had begun as any other day, Nola waking up in her small bed, surrounded by her older sisters, Zenia and Sloan.
They were both years ahead of her... Sloan peaking eight years old, and Zenia just having turned twelve the past Sunday. Her bed was truly her most favorite place to be. She was safe from her parents baffling, her fathers painful assaults and the lack of her mother. All she had was her sisters.
Nola had always been smaller than the average girl her age. She had stricter restrictions than those girls. Her father refused more than breakfast and a snack, and after that, Nola's tolerance of food became smaller and smaller.
She tried to convince herself she loved her father, she truly did, but she just could not do it. He hurt them, and he seemed... satisfied by what was happening. Sloan got the worst of it by far. Even recalling the time she wasn't allowed to leave her room because her father was too embarrassed to be seen with the beaten and bruised girl.
He claimed Nola as "his favorite", meaning she received the least amount of physical attention from him.
It was no secret to the town that Lucian Addington was sexually abusing his children, but none of them could recognize that it wasn't normal behavior.
Ginevra had known, but there was nothing she could do. She never expected it to go so wrong. She figured when it was time for Sloan to get married, she would escape with her children, and their dowries... never seeing her husband again.
For years, Nola's sisters had been subject to her fathers abuse, and the little girl had to sit and watch quietly as her sisters screamed in pain.
From that young age, she developed the ideals of a perfectionist, too afraid to ever cross her father without looking and being her best. Her judgement went through the roof, and it pained her mother, who remained silent in the shadows.
It wasn't until that day during December when it all went horribly.
Nola remembers receiving a hand made doll from their nanny, Magenta, with the most beautiful curly orange locks. She had named the doll- Alverie.
Throughout that month, she carried the doll with her everywhere. The frozen lake, bed, and even to dinner, much to Lucians dismay.
When Nola was only four, he condoned the playing with of dolls in his house, banning a child from her singular source of joy.
Zenia had attempted to dig the crafted doll from the garbage, and return it to her sister, but was quickly sought out by Lord Addington. The man had a serious drinking problem- the root of all his problems.
Being drunk turned him into a monster, and before he could stop himself, he stalked to the fire pit, pulling out the scorching hot pick and assaulting his muffler daughter in every way possible, leaving burns and gashes all over her frame.
Sloan's eyes widened, and without a second thought she intervened, and Nola thought nothing more than to chase her eldest sister, getting his between her legs, her stomach, her arm and the back of her neck.
Within the loud screams for help, the girls finally took notice of their sister on the floor, unconscious, and it did not take long for Lucian to recognize it.
His mind began to race, pacing the room, and hearing the distant footsteps of the servants. With one last look to his children, he threw himself from the window, plummeting to his death three stories below. •••
Grosvenor Square, January 1814 7 months
Nola never missed himself. In fact, she despised him with everything in her.
After figuring out her mother had told Anthony the story of her childhood, she did not want to glance upon the women, remembering all the horrid details of the death of her sister. Even recalling the pain she felt.
Anthony hadn't left her side since, wanting to ease her mind before her rib cage started to become irritated again.
The doctor had struggled with removing her corset, which had sent her into another fit of screams and tears- Anthony vowing she will never see one again until her body had healed from the birth of their child- and boy, was she grateful to have a man like Anthony.
His hand rested on her bump, with her head on his bare chest. It was the first time they had been alone all day. "Anthony..." she began, looking up the catch his glance.
He reached his hand up to her face, pushing the damp strands of hair from his view, "yes, my love?"
"I..." she began, a smile slowly appearing on her face. "I agree with Hyacinth."
He looked at her questioningly, a throaty chuckle leaving his slightly partly lips, "on what?"
"I would like our baby to be a little girl..." Anthony pondered for a moment, moving his gaze to the ceiling, "picture yourself with a little girl Anthony..."
"She better become a nun." He stated, sarcastically, pressing his lips to the girls forehead.
"I mean, imagine yourself holding your little girl for the first time Anthony... the first man she'll ever see. Her protector." His eyes moved to her, seeing tears form in her eyes. "Please, Anthony... just give her everything I never had." She began to cry. "We can not ever allow her her to question our love for her... we must always protect her, Anthony."
He sat up, leaning over her with his arm, "hey..." he whispered, running his free hand along her cheek, forcing her to look him right in the eyes. "As long as I'm alive, nothing with ever hurt you, or any of our children..."
Hearing him say children made her heart skip a beat.
This baby was going to be so loved by all that surrounded them. All she wanted to do was hold the child budded from Anthony and hers love.
