chapter twenty-three
MAY I?
THE SUN HUNG HIGH IN THE CLOUDLESS SKY, a beautiful afternoon for a social event outdoors. The warmth of the sun caressed Juliette's exposed skin, causing a joyous sensation to wash over her. The scent of roses wafted heavily in the air, and the hedge leaves rustled in the light wind. Juliette was absolutely yellow with happiness.
A sudden intense downpour could occur, and her pleasant mood wouldn't be the slightest bit fazed. Recently, Juliette found herself grinning throughout her daily affairs. Édith and Edward commented on the fact regularly, often questioning why she was so joyous whilst completing tedious tasks. Lady and Lord DuBois, on the other hand, would share knowing glances — for they had experienced the giddiness themselves. In fact, Lord DuBois was the one who noticed Juliette's continuous upbeat attitude first and pointed it out to his loving wife in secret. He couldn't be more delighted for his niece.
Juliette, who was conversing with Édith moments before, found herself roaming the outdoor area alone. Her dear cousin spotted Hyacinth and Gregory running around, and ran away mid-conversation to play alongside them.
A light breeze swept through the afternoon, rippling the skirt of Juliette's lavender dress as she strolled about. The warmth of the sun counteracted the chill of the breeze, making the wind much more welcoming to the touch. The ruby necklace she wore around her neck glinted underneath the sunlight.
She eyed the attendees of the social event. Quickly, she found her uncle chatting with an unfamiliar gentleman and a little ways away, her aunt softly laughed with Lady Bridgerton. It wasn't long before she spotted Anthony in the crowd. The tall man stood at the other end of the clearing, discussing with his younger brother, Benedict. Not wishing to interrupt their discussion, even though she was eager to spend time with Anthony, Juliette headed towards her aunt and Lady Bridgerton.
However, Juliette took a mere three steps before she came face-to-face with Lady Blackwood, Reginald's younger sister. Strands of her chestnut hair had fallen from her intricate updo, framing her petite face, and in the intense sunlight, flecks of green shimmered in her brown irises. Her thick brows raised as an elated expression overcame her features.
"Lady Blackwood," Juliette greeted with a small nod. "It's so lovely to see you again."
"Oh, please, call me Amelia," she insisted, a small smile toying at the corner of her lips. "Please do tell, Juliette, are you finding this event drab as well?"
She laughed. "Yes, in fact, I am. I am thankful for the beautiful weather though."
"Hopefully the weather holds, I would very much like to spend the rest of the afternoon writing outside," Amelia explained.
Juliette raised a brow. "You're an author?"
Amelia shrugged, the fabric of her pink frock shimmered in the sunlight as she did so. "To be quite honest, I'm not sure, I merely have too many thoughts needing release." She paused for a brief moment, taking a sip of her lemonade. She continued with a soft chuckle, "Oh, never mind me, what about you, Juliette? What do you hope to accomplish after this is finished?"
"I'm nearly at the end of Austen's latest novel," Juliette answered. She was eager to complete the marvellous piece of literature. Which had become much more of a feat than she expected, for every time she settled herself to read, Édith came along and interrupted her.
Juliette's gaze drifted behind Amelia and landed on a wonderful sight. A grin toyed at her lips. Reginald Blackwood was chatting with a beautiful young lady. She wore a bright blue frock that complimented her dark complexion and her grin was rather contagious. Reginald seemed quite invested in the conversation — he was glowing. Noticing Juliette's moment of distraction, Amelia followed Juliette's line of vision.
As if she knew what Juliette was about to ask, Amelia stated, "Oh, Miss Guinevere Honeyfield. A nice lady, and beautiful too if I do say so myself!"
"He seems happy," she beamed.
Amelia nodded, "Reggie is quite taken with Miss Honeyfield."
"I'd like to think she feels the same," Juliette said, nothing but honesty seeping from her tone. Reginald Blackwood was the perfect gentleman in all regards and she wishes him nothing but the best.
"Since they met at the Duke's wedding — Oh, no!" Amelia choked on her lemonade and turned around with haste. The sounds of her coughs were drowned out by the insistent chatter.
Juliette looked around, searching for the source of Amelia's sudden reaction. The young girl, no older than twenty-one, was red in the face from her intense blushing. As she surveyed the crowd, Juliette became aware of the obvious source. At the sight, Juliette nearly laughed. The source came from none other than the second eldest Bridgerton son. Benedict Bridgerton wore a cheshire smile and an amused expression. Upon noticing Juliette glancing at him, he sent the young lady a wink before bringing his attention back to Anthony.
She placed a comforting hand on Amelia's bicep, and reassured, "Benedict is no longer looking."
Amelia faced Juliette, frowning. "My sincerest apologies for my outburst. Mr. Bridgerton has taken a liking in catching me off guard and causing my humiliation."
"There is no need to apologize, Amelia."
Before Amelia could respond, the sound of metal clanging against glass hushed the crowd of ladies and gentlemen. Much to Juliette's surprise, it was Colin Bridgerton who was demanding everyone's attention. Across the crowd, Juliette found Anthony's gaze and curiously raised her brow at him. In return, Anthony shrugged his shoulders.
"May I have everyone's attention?" He began, drawing curious eyes from the crowd. Continuing, he said, "I would like to make a small but important announcement: I have happy news to impart." He paused, looking downwards to Marina Thompson with eyes filled with endearment.
A soft gasp fell from Juliette's mouth as she became well aware of what was occurring.
"Is he about to propose?" Amelia whispered to Juliette.
"I think he is," she said quietly.
"I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife, and she has accepted," Colin declared.
Juliette was unaware of Colin's intention to propose. Well, the third-eldest Bridgerton son wouldn't have said anything about the matter to her anyway, but he would have mentioned something to Anthony. And, as of late, Anthony told Juliette everything. So, it was likely that Anthony did, in fact, not know of Colin's intended proposal, and if Anthony did not know, then it was unlikely that Violet knew.
The shocked expression written on Anthony's features and Violet's faltering smile was enough to prove her assumptions correct.
Oh, Colin.
If there was one thing Juliette knew of the Bridgertons, they liked being in the know of announcements such as these. Violet and Anthony must be seething in anger.
Tentatively, Juliette clapped along with the crowd. She anticipated a brutal storm to unleash in the coming hours.
. . .
The following afternoon, Juliette sat in Anthony's study. Her book, which she was enjoying a half-hour earlier, lay discarded on his desk. She gave up on the literature once Anthony began his little fit, finding it too distracting when she was reading. It appeared as if she would never finish that novel.
From her position at his desk chair, she watched as the man paced back and forth in obvious anger and confusion. If not for his sour mood, Juliette would have found the situation hilarious and made a snarky comment or two. Instead, she sat silently, watching the eldest Bridgerton son wear through the fabric of the rug from his insistent walking.
With an exasperated sigh, he stepped towards Juliette.
"I don't understand why Colin is so insistent on marrying," Anthony grumbled as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of Juliette. "He's hardly an adult! Now I am required to attend dinner at the Featheringtons in an hour."
As he gazed at her and her calm demeanour, his furrowed brows softened the slightest bit.
Juliette shrugged her shoulders, looking upwards at the man who towered over her. "Perhaps he's madly in love."
"He hardly knows the girl!" Anthony argued. As if to demonstrate his frustration with the situation at hand, he roughly rubbed his temples.
She snorted softly at his statement and behaviour. The noise caused Anthony to drop his hand to his lap.
"And, how on earth do you know that?" Juliette questioned, leaning forward slightly. With a skeptical tone, she went on, "Are you surveying his every movement?"
Anthony's jaw fell slack. With haste, he sputtered, "Well, no, but- but he's being rash!"
"Anthony," Juliette began, giving the man a pointed look. "Just because you've decided to wait a ridiculously long time to even consider proposing, does not mean Colin feels any less about Miss Thompson than you do about me."
"It's not a ridiculously long time... it's perfectly reasonable!" He defended.
"I'm twenty-six," Juliette deadpanned.
As soon as the words escaped her lips, Anthony objected, "Mind you, I intended on proposing three years ago!"
She ignored him. "At this point, I'll be dead before you propose or, or, an old hag like Lady Whistledown suggested at the beginning of the season!"
"Juliette, you are not an old hag—"
She huffed dramatically, cutting him off. Of course, she wasn't angry or even annoyed that he hasn't proposed yet. They only recently reconciled, and it would be haste to propose so soon. However, Juliette has grown tired of waiting for a proposal she expected years before. She supposed that she's merely eager to begin the next stage of her life.
"Well, do you wish that I propose to you right now?" He suggested. At his tone, Juliette knew he was nothing but serious. Anthony would offer her a proposal that very moment.
"That's hardly romantic!" Juliette exclaimed, eyes wide and brows raised. With haste, she continued, "But, I suppose if you must do so, then I have no reason to deny."
"That's what I thought," Anthony snorted and brushed a loose lock of Juliette's hair behind her ear. As he did so, his fingers brushed the hollow portion of her rosy cheek. He smiled to himself when Juliette leaned into the touch.
"We shouldn't be in here alone," Juliette said.
"As if we're not always alone," Anthony pointed out, a small chuckle fell from his lips at the thought. He paused for a moment, and as he became lost in his thoughts, any remnants of anger from moments before washed away. "I remember climbing up that tree of yours at night and sneaking into your room."
It was true. The two of them were alone far too often and for much longer than socially acceptable. It was rather surprising that a scandal hadn't arisen yet (although Juliette was quite thankful for the fact.)
"It's a wonder we never got caught."
A wild glint flashed across his eyes. At the sight, Juliette bit the inside of her cheek to refrain from smiling. For, during her summers in London, she became well accustomed to what that look typically entailed.
Anthony leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to her ear. With every exhale, his warm breath caressed the side of her face, sending a shiver down her spine. As he whispered, his soft lips brushed against her skin ever so lightly, "do you recall the things we would do."
How could she ever forget?
"Things? Why must you be so vague?" She breathed, feigning naivety. "I cannot say I do recall."
Anthony pushed himself off of the desk and pulled Juliette up from the chair. With his hands planted firmly on her waist, he spun her around until she stood with her back facing his desk. His fingers dug into her waist as he lifted her onto the wood, causing a petite squeal to fall from her tongue. She sat on the desk, looking upwards at Anthony with wide eyes full of affection.
As he spoke next, his tender words were heavily coated with a sultry tone. "Is that so? Perhaps I should remind you?"
A fire erupted in the pit of her stomach, causing anticipation and giddiness to awaken and course her veins. Juliette always adored his voice. However, whilst his voice was often at the root of her comfort and ease, now it was at the root of her undoing.
Under thick lashes, she murmured, "I would like that very much."
Anthony's eyes never left hers as his hands slowly slid from their position on her waist down toward her hips and eventually resting on her upper thighs. The warmth of his touch was a scorching blaze. With every movement of his hands, the fire devoured the smooth fabric of her frock and burned her skin underneath.
His gaze searched hers, looking for any reason why he should cease, yet, Juliette gave him no reason. Instead, the young woman placed one hand at the back of his neck, toying with the nape of his dark hair. Her other hand rested on the cloth above his heart. Through his chest and the clothing resting against his skin, Juliette felt the intense beat of his heart against her palm.
A sudden coldness overcame the spot on her thigh where his right palm once rested. With a delicate touch, his long fingers trailed up her arm, tickling the smooth skin. Goosebumps and raised hairs arose close behind his touch. Once he reached the thin fabric of her frock that covered her shoulders, a wicked and teasing look flashed across his dark irises. She was lost in him and his touch — a touch she forgot how much she desired. Slowly, Anthony's fingers curled under the sleeve and inched the fabric downwards, slipping it over the bump of her shoulder. The study wasn't cold, not in the slightest, but the air nipped at her exposed skin. However, the feeling of coldness didn't last long.
Anthony sent her one last fleeting look, one of adoration and lust, before pulling his gaze from hers and leaned downwards. When his soft lips connected with the exposed skin of her shoulder, Juliette sharply inhaled. The skin that was cold a moment before, was now hot to the touch. At the noise, he tightened his grip on her thigh. Anthony slowly peppered kisses against her shoulder and collarbone, as if he were recreating a beautiful constellation on the exposed skin. He moved her dark curls to the other side of her neck, as he did so, his fingers brushed against the skin, leaving traces of fire in its wake. A shiver crawled down her spine.
Her breathing was shallow, matching his. Whilst Anthony attacked her neck with tender kisses, Juliette ran her fingers through his hair. The short locks were soft as silk, just as she remembered from years before.
With every kiss he planted against her neck, a wildfire erupted in its wake, fuelling the need she had for him. He whispered, "Recall now?"
She lightly shook her head, eager to preserve the moment forever. "I haven't a clue, my—"
Her words faded into silence and a sharp gasp fell from her tongue once Anthony began tenderly kissing the sweet spot beneath her earlobe. She clutched at the thin fabric of his shirt, bunching the linen in her fist.
"If you leave a mark on my neck I will be furious," Juliette warned, her voice weak and not a sliver bit intimidating. She could hardly hear herself speak over the pounding of her heart inside her chest. "Very," Juliette paused involuntarily as she tried to find her words, however, her mind was fairly occupied with the beautiful reality. She mumbled, trying again to find the words, "Very—Ugh! I cannot think!"
Anthony found her gentle outburst amusing. In an attempt to stifle his laughter, his teeth lightly grazed against her skin as he smiled widely.
"You are laughing!" She gasped, pulling away the slightest bit. Sliding her hand to his cheek, she lifted his eyes back to her own.
"Do you really think so little of me that I would find a situation such as this humorous?" He asked, feigning disbelief. "I must say, my Juliette, you pain me."
Juliette's voice became caught in her throat as she became unable to muster the thoughts swirling within her head.
Their faces were a mere inch apart, causing their noses to brush at the proximity. With every soft exhale, Anthony's breath caressed her face. For a man that was exceptionally handsome from afar, Anthony Bridgerton was even more so up close, which seemed like an impossible feat. Thick lashes curtained his eyes of brown and liquid honey. In the candlelight, an orange hue glinted in his irises, highlighting the golden flakes. From the soft curvature of his lips to the slant of his nose, Anthony was perfect.
Juliette did not know how long they were in that position. They were living in a world of their own, a world where the troubles of the past ceased to exist and time itself was a futile concept. Perhaps they were staring into one another's eyes for seconds, or perhaps it was minutes. Nonetheless, both of them were afraid to move. They were afraid to lose the moment. As if the world of their own was constructed from fragile glass, threatening to shatter with any second — with any misguided movement.
"May I?" His voice a hoarse whisper.
The study was silent, yet, Juliette's following words hardly broke the threshold. "You may."
Anthony tilted his head to the side the slightest bit and kissed her.
She never knew how much she craved his lips against hers, how much she missed his lips against hers. His lips were soft as they moved in sync with her own. The kiss was slow and tender, the fear of losing the moment still looming in the atmosphere. With a gentle touch, he cupped her cheeks as if he were reassuring himself that she was, in fact, there and not a cruel trick of his imagination.
Time ceased to exist. The planet stilled in its orbit and, in a sense, the world itself faded out of existence. The moment was theirs. A much desired moment, a much-needed kiss — a long-awaited and long-yearned kiss. The only sense of chronology came from their stolen breaths. It wasn't their first kiss, no that happened years before, but this was the first of their new life.
And, in a sense, the one that mattered the most.
Then, sooner than she wanted, she pulled away, smiling.
Before she could muster a mere breath of a word, Anthony blurted, "I love you."
It wasn't the first time he professed his love for her, yet it truly could have been. In her chest, her heart quickened its pace as a feeling of weightlessness overcame her. Like the kiss they shared moments before, his professed love was the first of their new life. And, in Juliette's opinion, the most important one of all.
Of course, she would always hold his first I love you and their first kiss near and dear to her heart. But, this was different in the best way possible. In the last couple of weeks, they have managed to overcome their troubles and continue to overcome obstacles that present themselves, together. Through everything they endured, they found their love in one another once again — a love that never faded, but was lost under dire complications.
And, Juliette knew he meant his proclamation with every ounce of his heart.
"I love you too."
. . .
That evening, whilst Anthony attended dinner at the Featheringtons, Juliette sat on the chaise by the fireplace in her room. A heavy frown plagued her features. In her grasp, she tightly held the letter she finished writing moments before. A letter to her father. She reread the words of heart countless times.
Lord Villeneuve,
I am not engaged.
But, I believe I will be soon. No, I will be engaged soon. I know I will be. And, this time, you have no choice in the matter. You stole three years from me and I will not allow you to do that again. You are not my father.
You are merely the ghost of my father. I have not seen my father nor witnessed his love since maman died.
I cannot believe what you did. I cannot believe what maman said. You — both of you — took my love away. Three years away that I could've spent with Anthony. Why? Why would you ever do such a thing? And to your daughter much less?
Maman raised me to be compassionate and understanding — forgiving.
Yet, I do not forgive you.
I will never.
Juliette Villeneuve
She folded the letter and sealed it shut.
Then, Juliette held her breath as she dropped the letter. The folded parchment fluttered downward, falling victim to the ceaseless flames of the fireplace. The paper was slowly devoured by the blaze. She watched as the sealing wax melted from the heat, the crimson red dripping from the letter. Her heart was devoid of any emotion as she watched the flame eat away the paper. With every passing second, the letter became more and more charred until all that was left was ashes.
Exhale.
. . .
rose's notes
Hehehe spicy 🌶🌶🌶
ANYWAY, I hope you enjoyed chapter 23! If so, please vote and comment, I love hearing everything you have to say! <3
Amelia. Blackwood. Is. My. Everything.
(y'all don't know how much I had to physically restrain myself from having Anthony propose this chapter)