forgotten desires || anthony bridgerton

CHAPTER 7

Anthony lazed off in the study chair, his legs propped up on the table. His mind though, raced with yesterday's events, encouraging his heart to do so too. Why was she back? And unmarried?  He thought not for the first time since the ball. He leaned his neck on the chair, his fingers going to rub his eyes, trying to dismiss the exhaustion away. The entire night he'd lay in his comfortable feathered bed, uncomfortably tossing and turning while Ayera's scent hung heavy on him. 


10 years ago

Anthony sat across the table from Ayera laid with delicacies the cooks in the kitchen had prepared for tonight- the night the Blaics were traveling to America, or so Anthony had thought. 

"I heard you are managing all your family's accounts now that Edmund is no longer with us, god rest his soul," the person seated behind Anthony spoke to him. 

"Oh yes, Lord Blaic." Anthony had always liked Ayera's father. He had always treated him like a son.

"You're doing remarkable, Anthony. Your father would be very proud."

Anthony hadn't realized exactly how strained his ears were to hear those words. "Thankyou, Sir," he said in what he hoped would convey his gratitude.

During the entire dinner, he didn't once meet Ayera's gaze. He knew he was being cruel and hence invoking her wrath, but better have her hate him than grieve him. He had vowed when his mother had told him she'd wished Hcyanith to take her life that he would never marry for love. He wouldn't be the cause of such acute suffering to anyone, to his Ayera. He hadn't confessed the growing feelings harboring within him for her, and now he had no intentions of doing so ever. After the hearty meal, while the Blaic family started taking their leave, he was quick to retire to his study. A knock pulled him back to the real world from his papers. He lifted his head to find Ayera the source of it.  For a moment, she lingered over the threshold and Anthony's brain screamed for her to remain past it. But a part begged her to do the opposite. Ayera listened to the latter one. 

"Anthony," she began.

His face stayed impassive wanting to get over whatever she was trying to say to him at lightning speed.

"I am leaving Anthony."

"I know."

"I am not coming back."

What? 

"I am leaving for America and not coming back, ever."

Anthony felt dizzy. The bottle of emotions he had tried to contain had finally uncorked, swarming his insides into absolute mayhem. He fought to maintain composure, to stand on his feet. A sickening needle began moving its way down Anthony's heart, tearing it into halves.
She- she was traveling to America, she was going to be back in a week, she was not leaving him! Now the dinner they'd hosted made sense. Did his mother purposely keep this information from him? WHY? To prevent him from the agony he was experiencing now. He couldn't bring himself to tell her he didn't want her to leave. Because, isn't this what he wanted? To distance himself from her? To save her from pain? From his love?

He tried to swallow the emotions running rampant in his system at the present, struggling to contain them again. "I know," he said in a tone that completely betrayed the panic unfurling inside him.

"There is nothing you wish to say?" 

He didn't dare glance into those twinkling eyes that were gleaming with painful tears for fear of coming undone at the spot.

"No." He felt the jab of the word puncture his heart. It was physically aching now.

"Anthony,"

"What? What do you want from me?" He snapped, replacing his pain with anger. Anger directed towards her.

"Look at me! Look at me and tell me you do not care for me. Tell me that my feelings are unrequited." Hot angry tears streamed down her face. "Say those words."

Anthony finally looked up and stared into her enchanting irises. "I do not care for you." His heart beat thunderously against his ribcage, pleading, begging him to stop. "I have never seen more than a friend and I never will." His heart fell silent, as if dead. 

"Goodbye Anthony." Ayera didn't turn back as she left him. Not ever.

His knees gave out under him and he fell to the floor, silent sobs escaping him the entire night. He hated her for leaving, and all the more hated himself, for not stopping her from leaving. He had lost both his father and lover in a mere span of a month, and though he could have done nothing to save his father, he didn't have anyone to blame but himself for Ayera.

***

His heart had bloomed alive at her return and he hated it, hated having to guard it incase it befuddled his brain into doing something catastrophic. Love's entirely out of the question, he reminded himself, it causes nothing but pain and heartache.

So why was she back? The question seemed to torment him. As in answer, Benedict flopped the latest edition of Lady Whistledown on the table. Anthony took it in his hand and began reading-

Dear readers, 

Although this author is confident the ton's aware of the infamous return of Lady Blaic and her daughter, Miss Ayera Blaic, I take it upon myself to inform those unknown to the news. Whilst it might arrive as a shock to quite a many people, it is my duty to impart the knowledge anyso, Miss Blaic remains yet unmarried. She may have dominated the London market once with her unparalleled beauty but at the fraying age of twenty-eight, will she still find herself capable to woo men with her charms or have they turned pale unlike her timeless beauty? After all, beauty or not, no one wishes a spinster his bride. Lady Danbury's ball might prefer to contradict my belief where no other than our dear Viscount, Anthony Bridgerton had taken her hand for a dance. The Viscount's mama did announce his plans to marry this season. Could the wedding that once awaited the ton a decade ago finally take place this year? This author wonders. Her purpose to marry is included in but unfortunately not the entire cause for Miss Blaic's return. It is with the utmost regret this author informs her dearest readers of the passing of Lord Blaic, one of the noblest to ever walk this earth. Laying this sorrowful news to rest, I wish the ton a most pleasant afternoon today at the races. Will more chaos arise? Chaos is a man's shadow after all. We shall find out.

Yours Truly, 
Lady Whistledown

A/N: so my exams got postponed so here's a new chapter for a treat. also im sorry for the incessant flashbacks, i think this was the last of them. thats all i g<3