The Other One // A Simon Basset x Original Bridgerton Sister Story

Chapter 9: Lights and the Dark

"Nigel, not now."

"Nigel?" he asked, clearly not sensing, or caring about at least, her mood. "Are we to drop the honorific so soon? I suppose as your husband..."

Daphne was insistent, saying, "You will never be my husband. I will never marry you. My brother, he... he made a mistake."

The rest seemed to happen in an instant. As Lord Berbrooke questioned Daphne, creating a dangerous tension and refusing to leave, Simon appeared through the shadows, far away enough that neither the lord nor Daphne could see him quite yet. Lord Berbrooke grabbed Daphne by the arms and threatened her, Daphne cried out for him to stop, the Duke darted out from the shadows, and then Daphne punched the lord straight in the face before the Duke was close enough to help.

"Your Grace, I had no intention..." Daphne tried to explain.

"Of knocking the climp flat out? Well, I must say, I am impressed."

"What are you doing out here?"

"Avoiding certain people," he said plainly.

"People?"

"Mothers," he clarified, bending down to examine the lord, who was sprawled out on the ground. "They are people, I suppose."

"You are coming from the Dark Walk. It is merely a few steps away," Daphne countered.

"What would you know of the Dark..."

"The Dark Walk is merely a few steps away," Daphne repeated, more to herself this time as she realized what she was saying, "and I am alone with two men."

"I believe you are only with one man. The other is..."

"I shall be compromised just the same. Do you have any idea what would happen if someone even suggested that I..." Daphne chastised, clearly flustered. "I must go."

Just then, Lord Berbrooke muttered from the ground, "Marry me, Miss Bridgerton."

"Now, as far as proposals go, that may be the least romantic of all," remarked the Duke.

"I suppose if someone were to find me here, it would be one way out of marrying him," Daphne replied, as the gears in her mind began to turn.

"Oh, you cannot possibly be thinking of marrying him."

The Duke truly sounded disgusted.

"If I am unable to secure another offer, there may be no alternative. Unlike you, I cannot simply declare I do not wish to marry. I do not have such a privilege."

The Duke should have seen this coming. Her disdain for him came back stronger with every word.

"Yes," he ground out, "I heard that you no longer have a line of suitors around every square in London. Was that Anthony's doing or yours?"

"I am in no need of your derision, sir."

She was one to talk.

"Nor I yours."

"If you must know, it is because of what this Lady Whistledown has written," Daphne supplied. "I'm quite sure you possess as much contempt for the author as I do."

"Ha," he guffawed, sure that she didn't fully understand as he did. "She's all but issued a challenge to London's most ambitious mamas, encouraging, provoking them to..."

"Claim you as their prize?" she finished.

The Duke stilled for a moment. He did not like the look in her eyes.

"Perhaps there is an answer," Daphne proposed.

"What?" he questioned, through an unpleasant huff of laughter. "To what?"

"To our collective Lady Whistledown issue," she said as if it should have been obvious.

Fireworks began to go off overhead, and if there ever was a sign that things were about to get dramatic, the Duke knew it to be this.

Daphne continued, "We could pretend to form an attachment. With me on your arm, the world will finally believe that you've found your duchess. Every presumptuous mother in town will leave you alone, and every suitor will be looking at me. After all, where one goes, the rest will surely follow. I'm sure you know that men seem to always be interested in the woman who they believe another, particularly a duke, to be interested in as well."

The Duke couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"You presume Lady Whistledown..." he started.

"I presume she will deem us to be precisely what we are."

"And that is?" he asked. "What? In love?" He ended his question with a snide laugh. "Never."

"No," Daphne said, firm in her proposition. "You, unavailable. Me, desirable."

"It is an absurd plan."

"I find it quite brilliant."

"How?" he questioned.

"Provided you do not wish to marry me, and I do not wish to marry you, whatever should you have to lose?"

Only a moment after, Simon could have sworn he heard murmurs coming their way. Quick to end this encounter and still very bothered by his earlier exchanges with London's mamas, he rolled his eyes and agreed.

And so, Daphne grabbed his hand, the Duke reluctantly took a deep breath, and the two walked straight back to the heart of the event, fireworks exploding overhead, right past the eyes of both the Viscountess as well as the eldest Bridgerton son, and onto the dance floor. When they almost reached the very center, Simon caught Eleanor's eye in the distance and noticed that she looked – what exactly was it? – confused, and maybe a bit forlorn? He paused for a beat, and then Daphne whispered forcefully that he must stare into her eyes to sell their ruse, pulling his focus back to his dance partner. Daphne looked proud, and he, a little baffled, but to anyone that didn't know her plan, they must have been sure that his expression was just awe.

They danced twice like this, with Viscountess Bridgerton and Lady Danbury smiling on from the sides, and apparently Lady Whistledown nearby observing too.

For those not in attendance at the Vauxhall celebration, you missed the most remarkable coup of the season. It appears Miss Daphne Bridgerton has captured the interest of the newly returned Duke of Hastings. How the young miss secured her newfound suitor is yet to be determined. Yet, if anyone shall reveal the circumstances of this match, it is I.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown.