Upper Ten Thousand// Anthony & Benedict Bridgerton

eleven

I head over to where Benedict is. "You are not going to believe what your sister just did."

"Which sister?" Benedict questions.

"Eloise," I tell him.

Benedict laughs. "This should be good."

"She just accused Lady Danbury of being Lady Whistledown," I inform him.

"Well, is she?" Benedict asks.

I chuckle as I shake my head. "Heavens no. Lady Danbury tells the world how she feels. She would never write about it in some scandal sheet anonymously."

Mr Granville walks over towards Benedict and I. "A most enjoyable party."

Benedict smiles. "Indeed."

Mr Granville leans into Benedict trying to keep me and anyone else from hearing their conversation. "Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."

"What happened the other night? I do not believe anything happened at all," Benedict tells him.

Mr Granville sighs in relief. "Ah... Very well." A woman joins us. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton. My wife, Mrs. Lucy Granville."

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton," she says.

Mr Granville turns towards me. "I do not believe we have properly met."

"This is Lady Mercy Lockhart," Benedict introduces me.

Mrs Granville smiles. "You should join us at my husband's gallery sometime."

I smile. "I would..."

"Oh, I do not know about that. It was nice to see you again," Benedict tells them. He leads me away from the couple.

"That was rather rude, Benedict," I scold. "I do not think..."

Benedict interrupts me, "You do not need to be involved with Mr Granville's gallery."

I grab Benedict's hand and drag him along behind me. I lead him into the study, closing the door after us.

"Mercy..." Benedict starts.

I shake my head. "Do not start with us being alone. You are in your own home. No one is coming in here while a party is happening." I cross my arms over my chest. "But I want to know who I cannot go with you to the gallery?"

"Mercy, you know why," Benedict tells me.

"I want to hear it from you," I insist.

"Mr Granville has parties at his gallery. Parties that do not concern you," Benedict tells me.

"What kinds of parties?" I ask.

Benedict sighs as he sits on the edge of the desk. "You know I will not tell you that. You should not even be asking."

I have to stop myself from stomping my feet. "Tell me, Benedict. I want to know."

"It's not just a gallery for art..." Benedict starts.

"I have gathered that much," I remark.

Benedict makes a face. "There is alcohol and more. There are women of improper morals and men who would ruin a girl like you in a heartbeat." Benedict shakes his head. Mercy, you do not need to know of such inappropriate things."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Were you not the one to tell me about what happens at night? When I am alone?"

Benedict takes a breath. "You should not be talking about such things."

I step closer to him. "You were the one who started it. You were the one who told me."

"After you begged," Benedict states.