Anthony had been in his study, having a solitary drink after an evening of working over the estate affairs; something that he would usually put off but after agreeing to take a step back from his duties with Daphne's season he found he had an abundance of free time. Previously he would find himself seeking the company of a certain opera singer, Siena Russo. The pair had frequently enjoyed pleasant intercludes over the past few months, but this had more recently become common knowledge in the ton (Thanks to Lady Whistledown). Anthony certainly missed the comforts of Siena but that is all, he knew for the good of family's reputation he must end things.
In an aid of privacy, he'd chosen not to live at Bridgerton house while still a bachelor, but he did keep his study here at the house. His position as the head of the family carried serious responsibilities, and Anthony generally found it easier to attend to these responsibilities while in close proximity to the rest of his family.
Looking down at his now empty glass he sighed. He could hear the sound of someone passing outside his door, he frowned. It was well past midnight so nearly everyone had retired for the night, curiosity getting the better of him he ventured to the hallway to investigate.
"Sister?" He asked, seeing Daphne. "Whatever are you doing?" he asked in concern.
Daphne spun around in shock; she had not thought anyone was up.
"I could not sleep." Her mind had raced with questions all night, all related to Simon, The Duke. "I thought a bit of warm milk might help matters." She smiled.
"Should I ring for a servant?" He asked.
"No. No, do not wake them." She paused. "Would you like to join me?"
The pair stood Infront of the stove in confusion.
"We should light it" Daphne suggested breaking the silence. She leaned forward with two bottles of milk at the ready in both hands.
"Excellent idea!" Anthony frowned as he rolled his selves before turning to his sister. "Well go on"
"Me?"
"I should not know how to do it." he laughed.
"And you believe I should?" She remarked somewhat sarcastically.
The pair both turned to the stove once more, frowning at their predicament. "Cold milk, then." She decided turning away from the stove to sit on the kitchen table before handing a bottle to Anthony.
"Most refreshing, given the heat." Anthony commented.
"Can I ask you a question, Brother?"
"So long as it has nothing to do with the inner workings of that thing." He laughed pointing back to the stove.
Daphne smiled and remained silent mustering the courage to ask. "It is about the duke."
"What about the duke?" he sighed. Although Simon was one of Anthony's longest friends, his patience with the man was wearing thin. He could not understand why the duke was courting his sister when he had declared he would never marry.
"Well... Do you know the reason he is so opposed to marriage?"
"Daph"
"He is your closest friend." She stated. "Surely you must know things."
"The things I know are certainly not for your ears."
"How foolish of me to ever even wonder about such things." She muttered taking a sip from her milk.
"He barely knew his father. Never knew his mother. The duke grew up...quite differently than us, Daph. In all the 20 years I have known him, he has not mentioned his so-called family even once. He has spent his entire life alone." he sighed.
"But what of Lady Danbury and Elizabeth?" She asked. "They are close, are they not? He didn't grow up completely alone?"
"That I do not know, he never speaks of his personal relations with them." he frowned.
Daphne sighed. "How very sad"
"Mother tells me you danced with That Prussian Prince?" He diverted the conversation.
Daphne sighed again. "Yes, yes I did. He is very charming"
"He would make a fine match?" He asked.
"I don't think he is very interested, he only danced with me once" She stated before taking another sip.
"Matches have been made on less" He stated.
"If that's the case then Elizabeth Priestley will soon be married" She smiled.
"Miss Priestley?" He choked his drink in surprise.
"The prince was quite taken by her, they danced four times. I think she would make a fine Princess." She smirked at her brother's reaction.
Daphne of course had been preoccupied with The Duke as of late but did notice the way her brother looked at her friend. She knew Elizabeth vexed him but still she could not help but see a sense of longing in her brother eyes. A longing she was not surprised if her own brother had not yet realised.
"I say good luck to the prince" He stated as he composed hisself. "She is infuriating"
His glass bottle landed on the countertop with a heavy thunk. He was frustrated, He had not been his self since he met Miss Priestley. He wasn't self-delusional enough to mistake this feeling for anything other than desire. After all he hated the women.
And yet he dreamed of her.
He tried to not remember, but her face burned into his mind. His treacherous mind had filled with the most awful images. His body, naked, moving over a lithe female form. His hands would trace the curves of her body, her dark curls would tickle his face as he kissed the faceless female's neck. And then he'd shifted, perhaps to kiss her. Except as he would look up, she was no longer faceless.
It was her.
Elizabeth Priestley.
"Brother?" Daphne asked pulling him from his thoughts.
"mmh" He looked up.
"Why must you be so rude to her?" She sighed. "Elizabeth is kind"
"Thank you for the milk sister" He smiled before leaving the room.
_______________________________________________________________________
I have always thought that an appreciation of the arts is what lifts us beyond mere animals. It stirs the passions and moves the spirit, and this author hopes, inspires more newsworthy pursuits. A new wing at Somerset House is to be opened today, where several attractions will be on display...Like the lovely Miss Elizabeth Priestley who has captured the attentions of a Prince.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS,
18 JUNE 1813
"Miss Anna Vaughn. Speaks several languages, I hear." Violet noted as she gripped her son Anthony's arm. "Miss Mary Egglesfield. She's meant to be quite the reader."
Anthony sighed.
"Were I looking for a list of debutantes and their dubious accomplishments, I could have stayed home and read Lady Whistledown." He pulled away and into the crowd.
Elizabeth stood with her aunt and the prince, she sighed. They had for the past ten minutes listened as the prince debated his opinion of the brush strokes. It was clear after the other night she had captured the attentions of the prince and even with her ideals on marriage, she would not be so foolish to snub a prince.
Prince Frederick was a pleasant man, in personality and appearance too. He had golden blond hair, neatly cut to military length, hazel eyes, and his nose slightly crooked. "Are you enjoying your time here in London?" She asked in hopes to veer the conversation away from the topic of brush stroke for fear she may yawn from boredom.
"It's always been one of my favourite cities." He smiled.
"How lovely to hear from someone who has travelled so widely." Lady Danbury counted.
"Have you travelled much Miss Priestley?" he asked.
Elizabeth eyes flicked to Cressida Cowper who for the past few minutes had been glaring at her from across the room. She could feel the hate radiating off her, she shuffled her feet. It felt like her every move was being watched and judged.
"Miss Priestley?" Frederick asked pulling her from her thoughts.
"Apologies, your highness" She blushed as she fanned herself. "I am feeling a little faint, excuse me"
"Elizabeth? Are you okay my dear?" Her aunt asked concerned.
"Yes, I just need some air." She smiled. "It has been a delight to speak to you your highness"
Elizabeth walked away before either could ask anymore questions. She pulled away from the crowd and looked back at the prince who was now crowded by a gaggle of young ladies. She could not help but laugh at the eagerness of mamas, she turned back around and collided with a hard chest.
"oh" She looked up in surprise.
The Viscount.
"Forgive me" he looked down, he frowned.
Her face blushed, she had not seen Anthony for a week. She tried to tell herself that a mixture of irritation and curiosity was the sole reason why she found herself replaying her conversations with the viscount in her mind daily.
"Of course." He grumbled.
"I- uh" She flushed still overwhelmed by the amount of attention she had caught as a result of talking to the prince. "Apologies sir" She was not herself and Anthony noticed.
"Are you okay Miss Priestley? No witty comeback?" He asked, hoping to get a rise out of her.
"Of course, Lord Bridgerton, I just do not wish to waste my breath on you" she recovered.
Anthony leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes positively melting as he boomed a laugh causing on lookers to stare.
"Do you always feel the need to make such a scene my lord?" She hissed. "Are you that deprived of attention?"
"Me?" He laughed bitterly. "I am not the one who caused everyone to speak about."
She raised her brow and crossed her arms. "What's that's supposed to mean?"
"The prince" He pointed.
"The prince?" She ground out.
"yes"
"What of the Prince?" She snapped; she could feel that familiar feeling Anthony incited in her again. He vexed her to no end, her entire body was shaking with rage, and if she'd be a less controlled sort of women her hands would surely have wrapped around his throat. "Jealous, My Lord?"
"Of the Prince?" He laughed. "He may be a prince, but he has the personality and brains of a plank of wood. I mean look at him"
The pair both looked at the events unfolding, Cressida Cowper had conveniently 'fainted' into the prince's arms and created an audience to watch as he fanned her with concerned look on his face.
Elizabeth body betrayed her as she stifled a laugh.
"My, was that a laugh I heard Miss Priestley?" He mused leaning closer to her.
She swatted her fan against his arm.
"If you tell anyone, I will deny it" She huffed. "I still detest you" she added before walking away.
"Good" he smirked.