Breathe | s.b | bridgerton

10

"You assure me?" she could not believe the words she was hearing, "Despite what you and my brother may think, I am quite capable of speaking for myself. You had no right." she spoke up.
"I was trying to help." he says, his voice strained.
"Well, you did not. All you did was underestimate Nigel's entitlement. Not to mention, people are watching. You cannot assure me of anything, My Lord."

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This author has often thought the heart a most curious of instruments, heeding neither reason nor rank. For what possible explanation might Miss Bridgerton have for entertaining the suit of a mere baron when she seems to have secured a duke? Could the debutante's mind not be the only thing amiss?

Carina could not believe it. All this so she could escape that man and yet he seems to follow her to every corner of the world. She did not want love or loyalty, never dared to dream of it, all she ever asked for was a man that would respect her as his friend, nothing more. Was that really so much to ask for? When she was already sacrificing so much, the decision to marry was not easy for her for it was never her wish, yet all she wanted was to find in a husband was mutual respect and understanding.

Not only that, she had now lost her only source of joy during this dreadful ordeal, her friendship with the Duke. Must he be so vexing? Always lying to her, speaking for her, undermining her, as if she were some sort of prize. And yet, even after all this, why must he be so caring and respectful of her as if she were truly his friend? Men, she would never understand them, "The recipe is my own, miss. I'm certain the duke should find it appealing." says her lady's maid.

"It does not matter what the duke thinks, Lily."
"He is gallant, is he not? With refined taste..." she continues, but Carina just couldn't bear to hear about that stupid man, "Stop."

"Is the rouge not to your liking?"
"No. It is perfect. I should like some more." she says, ashamed of her misdirected anger towards her dear friend.

Let it be known, dear reader, that if this bizarre behavior portends yet another scandal, then be sure that I shall uncover it, for there is nothing like an excursion into nature to lift the spirits and loosen the tongue.

Carina sat at the picnic, waiting for the Duke to arrive, when Anthony wondered over and sat with her, "I was not aware, sister, of what Berbrooke attempted. I would have helped you. You should have told me." he says with the utmost sincerity.

"Would you have believed me? Did you only change your mind about Lord Berbrooke because another man told you the truth?" Carina says, hurt by Anthony's decisions on the matter.
"You truly esteem me so little?" He questioned with pained eyes.
"After I apprised you of my wishes, and you not only proceeded to ignore them... but also ordered me shut, did not allow me to speak when I did try to inform you of what happened... yes, brother, I do." she says sharply.

Noticing the Duke arrive on his horse, she stood up and left to greet him, "You are late."
"Apologies. Should we rejoin your family at their camp?" he asks.
"Certainly not. We must promenade past the group of men playing their games up ahead. Whatever happened to your hand?" Carina says, taking not of his bruised knuckles, much like her own all but a few days ago.
"Boxing." was his swift reply, expecting a Lady like her to despise such a sport.

"Oh, whom with?" she questioned curiously,
"Pardon?" now that was surely unexpected, "I asked, who were you boxing with? Surely you were not boxing yourself." she says, cheek evident in her voice.
"Surely, It was uh- an old friend of mine, Will."
Carina was the most attentive now, eyes wide with excitement she asked, "Who won?"
Only staring at her in amusement, he said, "Wouldn't you like to know?" with a smile on his face.

"Your Grace, who won? Surely, I find it hard to believe you were the victor given Mr. Mondrich's precision and expertise in the sport." she says with a huge smile, finding his countenance the most rewarding after he vexed her so.
His face was the definition of surprise, his eyes wide, mouth dropped open as he tried to fumble for an answer, clearly taking offence with her opinion of him and being taken aback by her knowledge of the sport and even his friend's identity. "I- how?"

Witnessing a couple of men play a game just up ahead and taking the perfect opportunity to gather their interest and attention, she suddenly turned to face him and said, "My cuff, button it."
"I- I beg your pardon?" noting the probable suitors, he did so, gazing at her face, her stupidly beautiful face that has him lay awake at night, thinking about her and her stupid talks, that have him burn in anger. Her and her insults, directed at him, her and her inability to be grateful for all his help. Her and her stupid words, that always vex him so.

"You need not feel your evident worry. Berbrooke is..." he says, trying to rid himself of the unearthly thoughts.
"No. Even if you believe Lord Berbrooke is taken care of, our ruse is not finished. I'm still in need of a husband." She says, interrupting him.
"Though I am flattered, I'm afraid I must reject your proposal." he says with a smile, his attempt at humour, and to perhaps, make her laugh.

"Yes, I know. You are not the marrying type. Yet have you considered you are not the type women wish to marry either, My Lord?" she says.
"I suppose if I were forced to take a wife, you would be the least objectionable option." he says,
"Is that meant to be a compliment?" she questions, with a scoff that would positively have her mother horrified at the unladylike behaviour.
"Yes. But it is no matter, for you wish to not marry at all, do you not?" he says, gazing into her eyes, leaving her breathless.

Oh damn those brown eyes and the effect they have on her being! "Of course, that is one thing we have in common, Your grace. Although unlike you, I do not have the privilege to live my life the way I want to." She says, and with that sentiment, her own words snap her out of the reverie she was stuck in, showing her the reality of her life, "They still looking?" she questioned.

He glanced back, only to find something else that catches his attention, hearing a loud shout of her family name, she turns around, and finds Nigel Berbrooke storming towards her family tent. "What have you done!" She says, rushing to join her family with the Duke following her. She should have known Nigel wouldn't just stay silent if felt insulted.