"You do not seem pleased with the painting before you." She noted, gaining his attention. 

"Ah, I see you've arrived." He greeted her. "And you would be correct. It's much too cold." He began dissecting it as Lady Danbury and a man Abigail did not know arrived on his other side. "Where's any sense of the subject's spirit? And the light! Given the quality, I do wonder why the piece was not skied with the other daubs."

"Perhaps we should as the artist." Lady Danbury pointed out. 

Abigail could sense there was something up her sleeve. Did she know the artist?

"Well that would be something, Lady Danbury." Benedict said, sarcastically. 

"Mm... Mr. Granville, why was your piece not skied?" She turned to the man on her right, and asked. 

Abigail immediately snorted, and her hand flew to her mouth as she suppressed her laughter.

"Mr. Granville, I—"

"If you will excuse me, I must find my wife." He excuse himself as Benedict sputtered. 

"You diabolical... How could you let me rattle on like that?" He questioned Lady Danbury. 

"How could I not my dear Mr. Bridgerton? It was riotously funny, you must admit." And with that, she walked away. 

"Don't." Benedict simply said as Abigail failed to further suppress her laughter. 

"I am saying nothing." She held her hands up in mock defense. 

"Well, keep it that way." 

A few moments passed between them as Abigail regained control of her laughter and they simply moved to look at another painting. 

"I..." He started but then trailed off. 

"Yes?" She prompted, continuing to stare ahead at the painting.

"I must apologize for my brother." He referred to the other night. 

Abby blushed involuntarily. 

"You should do no such thing. I certainly didn't fight it, in fact... I think part of me wished for it to happen." Her sentence got quieter at the end. 

A few moments passed between them before Benedict spoke again.

"May I ask something that might be considered improper?" 

"I think you've earned it." She said in response. 

"Do you wish to marry my brother?" He asked.

Taken aback by this, she said, "It does not matter what I wish. Your brother has made it quite clear he intends not to marry." 

Benedict sighed and said, "That may have been true, but now he seems to wish to marry you. Or at least court you I certainly cannot speak for—"

"What?" She cut him off in astonishment.

"I was simply saying that I cannot speak for him but—"

"Would you excuse me?" She requested, but did not wait for his reply before she charged off into the crowd.

Now, far from avoiding him, she was looking for him. She worked her way through the room, and when that ended in no avail, she landed in the foyer that was also chalked full of paintings. Sighing, she turned around, and that's when her eyes finally landed on him.

He must have felt her gaze, for mere moments after she her eyes found him, his eyes found hers. She wasn't quite sure how but he managed to take her breath away very time he looked at her that way he did. 

She took a step to move toward him. As did he, but they had each only managed a few before a voice calling her name interrupted her movements. 

"Miss Bentley!" It was the Prince who had called her, and now he had landed right in front of her. 

"Oh, your highness." She acknowledged him in politeness, and curtsied.

"I was hoping to see you today." He said with his accent lilting his words. 

"Were you?" She was still a little flustered from being interrupted moments before. 

"Yes, it seems the art is not the only beautiful thing on display, at present." He payed her a compliment and she smiled. 

"Um, tell me you must have traveled widely. How do you find London compared to elsewhere?" She asked, politely. 

"It is one of my favorite cities. Have you travelled much? I think you would just love the music of Vienna." He asked. 

However, what he asked went unnoticed by her, because when she glanced over, Anthony was no longer in the spot he just was. Because she had completely missed what he said, she simply made an excuse. 

"If you will excuse me for one moment, I am being summoned." She then delved back into the crowd and left the Prince without another thought. 

Yet, she searched and searched and Anthony was nowhere to be found. It seemed that during her conversation with the Prince, he had simply disappeared.

Only Hope | Anthony Bridgeton Where stories live. Discover now