chapter twenty-six
MY DEAREST JULIETTE
EIGHT DAYS HAVE PASSED SINCE ANTHONY AND HER UNCLE LEFT FOR PARIS AND JULIETTE IMPATIENTLY AWAITED THEIR RETURN. In that time, Juliette came to realize how impatient she truly was. The days trickled by, each one passing slower than the day before. At some points, it truly felt as if time was beginning to move backwards. It seemed as if Anthony and her uncle would never return. That was foolish to think. To Paris and back by carriage took approximately eight days. At this point, they were not gone longer than expected. Juliette was merely eager to be in Anthony's presence once again and have her dear uncle at home.
Earlier that evening, Juliette attended a concert with her aunt. The event was beautiful and heavenly to the ears, albeit long. Far too long in her opinion. Three hours seated in a small booth was not Juliette's ideal situation, however, she enjoyed the event nonetheless. Another downfall of the concert was that, although she found herself immersed in the music, her thoughts were left to wander. The event did not successfully pose as a distraction as thoughts of Anthony with her father ran wild in her mind.
Juliette really just wanted Anthony and her uncle to return.
At the current moment, Juliette sat in a chair by the fireplace. In her lap lay dozens of old letters from Anthony. Weeks before when Anthony and Simon intended to duel, he wrote her a letter, a goodbye letter. Along with that letter, he left dozens of letters he wrote during the three years of silence, ones he never found the courage to send. Since receiving the stack of letters, Juliette read each at least three times over. The past week alone, she found herself reaching for the words of his heart more than usual. Some of his letters mimic the ones he used to send — recounting his daily affairs and blatant expressions of love. But, most of his unsent letters outline his regret and poor mistakes. She already forgave Anthony and did not hold his past actions against him. Nonetheless, his words were intricately strung with sorrow that ached her heart. He too, during those three years, was in pain.
She couldn't help but think of the hundreds of letters they sent to one another over the years.
All the letters exchanged since their childhood years were locked away in a small wooden box in the back of her wardrobe at the Villeneuve house. She could never bring herself to throw them away, even after Anthony failed to respond. But, she also couldn't bring herself to read them seeing as it would bring her more pain. So, she buried the box of childhood correspondences and young adult love letters under miscellaneous items and forced herself to forget. Months ago, Juliette found no reason to tote the box of letters with her to London, so they, like many of her belongings, were left behind at the Villeneuve residence. However, now, as she impatiently waited for her love to return from Paris, she wished she could reminisce on the old letters and the cherished memories they brought.
Juliette regretted not asking Anthony to retrieve the box for her. But, at the time of his departure, it wasn't even a mere thought.
A small thud sounded on her window, causing Juliette to flinch in her spot by the fireplace. Immediately, Juliette craned her neck to see, and her heart leapt in her chest at the sight. Having scaled the tree outside her window, Anthony was balanced on a large branch, waiting for her. Once he knew Juliette noticed him, he dropped the hand he knocked with to the sill, supporting himself further.
Anthony.
With haste, Juliette discarded the letters on the table before her and pushed herself from the chair. As she rushed towards Anthony, her bare feet padded against the wood flooring and the hem of her deep blue dressing gown danced around her ankles. Without a second thought, she opened the window.
The light nighttime breeze ruffled his cropped locks as well as the leaves of the tree. Under the moonlight, his skin glowed, and his eyes' browns were illuminated, showcasing the honey and gold that typically became lost in dark lighting. His immense beauty was highlighted by the moon, accentuating the slant of his nose and the sweet curvature of his lips. The mere sight of his cheeky smile made her forget the reasoning behind his absence as she became lost. The edges of her own lips tugged upwards, replicating his grin. Anthony was back from his travels and he was in seemingly good spirits.
Hope blossomed in her chest.
"May I enter?" Anthony asked, his tone quiet. Juliette noticed how his breathing was uneven, no doubt from climbing the tree. "I fear I am not as skilled at scaling this tree as I once was."
With a slow nod, Juliette smiled widely. As she did so, her teeth grazed her bottom lip. She stepped backwards, allowing him room to enter. "Please."
The man slipped through her window.
Anthony barely had the opportunity to stand before Juliette stepped towards him once again. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a tight hug. She missed him greatly. Although his skin was cold from the breeze outside, she warmed under his touch. Her fingers aimlessly toyed with the hair brushing his nape. With the side of her head cradled into the crook of his neck and the collar of his coat prodding her temple, she whispered against his skin, "I missed you."
Anthony leaned down slightly, resting his cheek against the top of her head. With every inhale and exhale, their bodies melted together, becoming one. From their proximity, Juliette felt the rapid beat of his heart against her chest. Without a doubt, she knew he could feel hers too. For, her heart pounded intensely, as if it were attempting to break free from the confines of her body.
Anthony Bridgerton owned her heart.
"How were your travels?" She asked, her soft words breaking the silence of the night. What she really wanted to inquire about was whether her father accepted Anthony's request or not, but she didn't. Anthony would tell her himself.
"All was well," he promised in a hushed tone before coming to a pause. Once he spoke again, his words were much heavier, "However, I must say, I was rather surprised by your father."
Her breath caught in her throat at the mention of her father. "How so? Did he cause you any trouble?"
Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing your uncle and I were unable to handle."
"I'm glad." Juliette paused briefly, then spoke once again, "Have you heard of the scandal regarding Miss Thompson that emerged in your absence? Daphne handled the situation rather well."
"My sister is quite capable of many things," he responded, pride heavy on his tongue. Anthony adored his family. "Nonetheless, I believe the matter can wait until morning. Now, I'd much rather be with you without the troubles of the exterior world."
They fell into a comfortable quiet, cherishing one another's presence.
Whilst one arm was wrapped around her waist tightly, afraid to let her go again, his other hand slipped up her back, causing a shiver to crawl up her spine. Anthony's slender fingers knotted themselves in her loose curls. With a delicate touch, he toyed with the locks before resting his hand on the back of her scalp. Under his breath, he said, "My dearest Juliette."
His words were so quiet and so delicate as if they were never supposed to breach his lips and intertwine with the night air.
Juliette removed herself from the crook of his neck and looked upwards at Anthony. His eyes were shut as he relished in her touch. Long lashes delicately brushed his cheeks, a dark contrast against his moonlit complexion. As she pressed her forehead against his, their noses grazed. With each soft breath that escaped his nose, warmth caressed her face as if it were peppering her with ghostly kisses. Less than an inch lay between their lips. Juliette yearned to close the space, to be lost in him and everything he means.
Before she could, Anthony spoke again.
"I first became aware of my love for you ten years ago. But, I would be a fool to claim I did not love you since the day we met," he whispered. The nighttime atmosphere swallowed his quiet words. He released a shaky breath. "I never knew my love for you could ever grow to be this intense, this consuming. Juliette, you are my sun and my world — my everything — orbits you."
She was, without a doubt, wholeheartedly in love with Anthony Bridgerton.
Juliette inched closer, pressing her lips to his.
The kiss was delicate and tender — purposeful. Juliette could express her love to Anthony in infinitive different phrases, all of which conveying the same meaning, but all strung together with different words of her love. There was not enough air on earth to endure everything she yearned to say. Or, she could convey the same adoration and the same intense love in a kiss — the semantics remained the same, if not more powerful. So, Juliette spoke her love for him through soft lips, putting everything she could say into a gentle and love-fuelled kiss.
Actions speak louder than words.
Anthony melted under her touch, allowing her to take power over him. Slipping down, his hands rested on her waist. The touch was innocent in nature, but the warmth of his fingers burnt her skin under the fabric of her gown. His hold on her tightened as if he were afraid she was a mere figment of his imagination and the fabric resting on her hip became bunched in his grip. He was afraid to lose her once again — he could not lose her again.
"Marry me," Anthony mumbled against her lips, his words hushed from the kiss.
Juliette stilled and her eyes widened. Pulling away the slightest bit from the kiss, his lips remained a feathered touch against hers.
Before she could respond, Anthony caressed the hollow portion of her cheek, and repeated himself in a breathy whisper, "Juliette Eléonore Villeneuve, the possessor of my heart and soul, will you marry me?"
"You're proposing?" Juliette choked. She was in absolute shock.
Of course, Juliette was expecting Anthony to propose. She would be a fool not to. Juliette had wanted to marry Anthony since she was a teenager, a long-coveted dream. And, at times, the possibility of marrying Anthony seemed as if it would only occur in her dreams. Yet, this was reality. Anthony Bridgerton, the man she loved with her entire being proposed. To put it simply, Juliette couldn't believe it was real.
The corners of his lips twitched downwards. "I, erm, Juliette—"
With soft laughter, Juliette slid her hands from the base of his neck up to his cheeks. Anthony stilled as he heard her sweet laughs, his heart falling to the deepest depths of his stomach. But, whilst Anthony was drowning in his own insecure and destructive thoughts, Juliette was overcome with intense happiness. She was in a state of pure bliss. With her hands gently cupping the sides of his face, she brought him into a short kiss before pulling away once again. Looking into the brown irises spun with honey of the man she loved most, she murmured, "yes."
"Yes?" He asked as if he were in disbelief.
Juliette nodded her head in response, a large grin toying at her lips. "Yes, Anthony, yes." She paused for a brief second and her eyes began to sting. "Goodness me, I'm about to cry!"
A smile broke out on his formerly distraught expression.
"I love you, my dearest Juliette."
"I love you too."
They remained in each other's arms and foreheads pressed together for some time. How long exactly, no one could say, for they became lost in one another. Time ceased to exist. The only form of chronology to exist were the slow breaths falling from their noses and the rapid beats of their hearts. Their gazes were locked and Juliette found herself memorizing every speck of gold splashed across his irises. The gold intricately danced with the liquid honey that brightened the dark brown of his eyes.
Brown eyes were her favourite. For, not only has she witnessed the hidden beauty of brown irises up close but she was forever fascinated and captivated by Anthony Bridgertons eyes. The most mesmerizing and alluring ones she's ever seen.
Anthony picked Juliette up and held her close to his body with his hands planted firmly on her waist. A soft squeal fell from her tongue at the movement. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck in pure bliss. Anthony carried Juliette as he walked towards her bed, he then seated her at the edge, looking down at his fiancée in endearment.
Juliette sat on the edge of her bed with anticipation seizing her thoughts. With her hands resting in her lap, her fingers aimlessly played with the soft fabric of her dressing gown. Anthony trailed a finger along her jaw before resting it under her chin. With a gentle touch, he tilted her head upwards the slightest bit. His gaze followed every line and curvature of her face, leaving a flame to devour her skin in its wake. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
She'd be a fool to miss the mischievous glint darting across his eyes.
"Anthony Bridgerton," Juliette mumbled, not wanting to disrupt the sweet silence of the night. "What are you up to?"
"Anthony Bridgerton?" He repeated her words, feigning hurt. A playful grin danced on his lips. Ignoring her question, he continued, "What have I done so wrong this time to be addressed in full?"
"Nothing," she hummed. "Is it a sin to like a name?"
"Soon we will share a name."
"Juliette Bridgerton, I suppose it sounds all right." She bit her cheek in an attempt to suppress her simper.
He snorted. "All right? My love, it is perfection."
Perfection.
Anthony kneeled and removed the finger supporting her chin.
As if she were made of glass threatening to shatter, he delicately pulled her left hand from her lap and held it lightly on top of his. His fingers tickled her palm, sending a shiver up her spine. Riffling in his pocket with his free hand, he withdrew a golden ring. The ring itself was simple — a single small diamond and sapphire gemstones surrounding it. In the moonlight, the tiny and precious gems glinted.
Juliette recognized the ring immediately and she nearly cried out in joy.
For, it was her mother's ring.
Anthony slipped it on her fourth finger.
The ring was a DuBois family heirloom passed down through generations to the eldest daughter when she became engaged. Before belonging to her mother, who was née DuBois, and received it when Juliette's father proposed, it was gifted to her grandmother. The ring was promised to Juliette. It was her birthright to receive this ring once she became betrothed. After her mother's death, her father latched onto all of her belongings, even those that did not belong to him.
She never thought she would see the ring again.
"Anthony," she whispered, not knowing what else to say.
"Whilst I wanted to make amends with your father and ask for your hand, this was the main reason I needed to visit your father," Anthony revealed.
"How did you get this?" Juliette asked in total disbelief. "How on earth did you get my father to part with it? He wouldn't even allow me to cast a mere glance at it after her death."
She stared at the ring in pure wonder and adoration.
"With help from your uncle."
. . .
rose's notes
Anthony and my king lord DuBois really are homies and nothing can change my mind ... they are my BROTP
My babies are engaged FINALLY! gah I love them
I hope you enjoyed chapter 26! <3