TW: slight physical violence
In a swift motion, Henry stepped forward and hauled James up off the ground by his collar.
"You absolute bastard" he said, right before he punched him square in the nose and pushed him right back onto the ground, making sure that the landing was as painful as it could be. Lucy's father then stepped forward, placing a hand on his son's shoulder.
"Stop. You wouldn't want to leave a mark and draw attention to the situation, would you?" Her father asked calmly.
"Well what do you propose should happen now? We just let him go?" Henry asked through gritted teeth.
"No- Well, you have already suggested what should happen. Propose- a proposal." He began.
Lucy's heart sped up- propose? How could her father expect her to marry a man who just tried to compromise her? surely that wasn't a good start to a marriage, nor would he be an admirable addition to the family.
"Mr. Bancroft, you will marry my daughter to ensure her reputation remains intact. We will announce the engagement in a fortnight- not too long to wait and not too short either- and in the meantime, you two will behave properly and publicly court each other and give everyone the impression that you are falling in love. And hope that no one else witnessed what has happened here today," He added.
Lucy's mind began to spin. Her father was speaking in the most calm manner he had spoken in over half a year, and it sent a chill down her spine. She had just met this man, and now she was being forced into a marriage with no say in the matter. She knew there was going to be no easy way out of this, but she was definitely going to try.
All Mr. Bancroft did was grunt with an unappealing shadow of a grin on his face, signaling he agreed to her father's terms before he was sent away by him and her brother, seemingly pleased with the outcome of his actions. Then it was just the three Blackthornes, stood peculiarly behind a hedge, in the gardens of a grand house.
"I cannot imagine what spirit possessed you to wander into a garden like this alone with a man to whom you are unrelated, but I hope this proves a lesson to you." Her father stated, before walking back into the ballroom, calm and collected. It was unbelievable, and surely an overreaction on her father's part. No one had seen them, as far as Lucy knew. No one except for the two men in her life.
"Are you hurt?" Henry asked.
"Not physically" Lucy replied. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.
She then noticed a look on his face that she had never seen before. A look she thought resembled pity, disappointment, and anger all at the same time. It filled her with rage.
"Don't" Lucy said.
"Don't what?" Henry replied. He was attempting to remain calm, but she could tell what he was thinking below the surface of his manner.
"Don't look at me like I am the most disgraceful person on earth. It is not as though I invited him to compromise me" Lucy responded.
"Well I'm sorry, Lucy, but I do not really know how I should feel right now. Or what to do, or say, or even think- so please, forgive me if my facial expressions are not to your liking at the present moment," he replied.
"It's not as though you were compromised. It was me. How do you suppose I feel right now?" Lucy asked, frustrated.
"God, I don't know. Let us just go back inside before anyone notices our absences." Henry replied bluntly and reached out his arm in offering to her.
She relented and looped her hand around his elbow, following him back into the warmly lit ballroom. She knew her brother meant well, and that she was lucky that she had him, but he was still a man. Not nearly as bad as the other men she knew, or stories of other men that she had heard from other women, but he still shared some of their dated views. He would never understand what it was to be a woman in their time- always treading lightly, making sure we don't set a toe out of line, whereas he could do whatever he wanted albeit discreetly.
The rest of the night was glum, and Lucy spent most of it standing by the lemonade table with Penelope, making small talk. The red-headed girl picked up on her emotions quickly, questioning her briefly. But when she realized that Lucy was not in the mood for that conversation, she changed the topic altogether. Instead of participating in the ball herself, she watched her little sister spin and glide across the floor effortlessly, and wished she could start her day over again.
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The next morning she woke up later than usual, in an attempt to avoid her family at breakfast. Fortunately, when she eventually made it down the stairs everyone was finished eating and busy doing other things. Lucy had her breakfast and decided she would spend the day reading in the drawing room since it was always something that could help cheer her up or calm her down when she needed it.
For the first time in a while, she was alone with her thoughts. She thought about everything- Mr. Bancroft, their pending marriage, how to prevent their pending marriage, and Benedict. What occurred between them mere days before she was betrothed. She felt something, something foreign. Now she feared that she would never get to explore that feeling, since she may end up marrying a man who chose to compromise her against her will, rather than actually court her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the family butler entering the room.
"Mr. Bridgerton is here to see you, My Lady" He began.
"Benedict?" Lucy asked.
"Yes, My Lady" he replied.
"Ah. Yes, show him in, would you, Thomas" Lucy responded.
"Right away" he replied. Thomas had been with the family since Lucy for a while, and so she thought of him as family. Lucy knew that he felt the same, she knew he cared for the three of them, since he spent much of his free time playing with them over the years- until their wooden dolls turned into dresses, and splashing around in the nearby lake turned into sitting with parasols under the sun. Well, for Eleanor and Lucy, that is. Henry began to spend more time with his friends from school and opted to do more "masculine" activities. Soon after his arrival was announced, Benedict walked into the drawing room, red-faced with a sheepish smile.
"Lady Blackthorne, I hope I am not disturbing you," Benedict asked.
"Not at all- please, sit" Lucy replied, with a small smile. Although it was only a small one, it was the first time she had smiled since the ordeal at the ball. Something about Benedict made her feel comfortable, and like she was right where she needed to be when she was with him. It was just what she needed at a time like this one.
"I wondered if you wanted to promenade around the park? With me, of course," Benedict asked. There was a hint of hope and eagerness in his voice. The question caught her off guard. One minute he was whispering her name and gazing into her eyes, the next he was acting as though everything was perfectly normal, and then he was back to gazing longingly at her and asking her to do something positively romantic. To say Lucy was confused was an understatement.
"To be quite honest with you, Benedict, I'm not feeling quite up to it today. Perhaps we could tomorrow if you would still like to?" Lucy asked. Even though Benedict did make her feel happy, and she did want to spend time with him, she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and upset at the same time. She most definitely did not want to be seen in public at that moment in time. Also, she knew she had to be the perfect debutante for the next two weeks, and she didn't know how Mr. Bancroft would react to her being (possibly) courted by another gentleman. She could not risk him getting jealous and possessive, which could lead to him spreading rumors about her. Lucy needed time to think about how she was going to approach things.
"Oh, of course. Are you feeling well? It's not like you to turn down an outing in London, no matter how small" Benedict asked. He sounded concerned and it broke her heart, because she could not tell him the truth. She trusted him plenty, but she did not want him to think less of her. The looks that her brother and father gave her when they saw what was unfolding were seared into her brain forever, and she couldn't bear it if Benedict reacted in the same way.
"Yes, just tired. I am looking forward to tomorrow, though." Lucy replied and attempted a smile.
They were both standing now, and Benedict shuffled on his feet. Lucy could tell he was trying to figure out what to say next, and the image of him standing there, unable to think of what to say, was amusing. Benedict was not the type of person who couldn't think straight, let alone form a quick reply to someone. After he spent a couple of seconds pondering, he finally spoke.
"I actually also wanted to ask you if you'd be kind enough to show me to your library- I remembered that it had the most intriguing books. Perhaps you could lend me your favorites?" He asked.
"Oh, well, I don't see why not. Follow me." Lucy replied sweetly. At that, Benedict perked up again and followed her out of the drawing room. Lucy had a small inkling that he didn't actually want to see any books in the library, that he only wanted to postpone his leave so that he could spend a little more time with her, but she couldn't be sure. Overanalyzing the situation may not be the best idea. They both approached the sizeable library and entered, side by side. Lucy immediately headed for the art section, where they had a myriad of books all related to the subject, which she thought might pique Benedict's interest. She reached for one that was at her eye level, examined it, and handed it to him.
"This one might be interesting, it's about Renaissance artists. It's quite good, actually- a chapter per artist, explaining each of their works. Non fiction, of course." Lucy said and smiled.
"Wonderful. I'll let you know how I fare" Benedict replied, as he quickly flipped through the pages. He looked back up at Lucy and made eye contact and, once again, she melted. Her breath hitched in her throat as she became all too aware that they were once again alone, in a room, and this time it was darker than usual. The curtains in the library were always kept shut, so the only lighting in the room was that of candles. She realized that she had quite the taste for seeing his face illuminated by the unsteady and dim streaks of light. It seemed as though he felt the same, because he inched closer towards her until they could practically feel each other's breath on their faces. Benedict's eyes trailed down from hers, onto her mouth, and he whispered her name once like he did the other day.
"Yes?" she replied, her voice barely a whisper. There was a beat of silence, the two of them just standing there, enthralled by each other. He was thinking, she knew he was, because his brows furrowed slightly revealing a crease between them.
"I have something for you," he spoke.
He reached his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a thin and wide, rectangular-shaped box. Lucy quirked a brow as she examined what he held in his hands, then looked back up into his eyes. He grinned, that infamous smile of his that lit up his whole face- that lit up the entire dimly candlelit room. She was sure that he could even light up the whole night sky with it if he wanted to.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Open it and see" he responded as he handed the wide box to her.
She obeyed and opened it, which revealed a beautiful watercolor painting on a piece of parchment that was folded up to fit into the box. It wasn't just any painting, though, it was a painting of the back of Wyndall House and the gardens surrounding it- her countryside home. Her breath hitched, mesmerized by the beauty and accuracy of it.
"It's just a rough draft- I did it from memory, you see, since I haven't been there in a while," He began.
He ran his hand through his hair and messed it up like he always did.
"I was thinking about it- about you- the other day. How we all used to play Pall Mall there as kids, in the garden. I miss it, so it inspired me I suppose" he continued.
She felt a stab in her chest. The memories that they shared together, of the Bridgertons visiting them in their countryside estate during the summertime, were all fond ones. They would run around and play games with each other, then cool off by taking a dip in the nearby lake- it was heavenly to think about. Lucy wished in that moment that she could go back in time to her childhood and experience one of those days once more. She was silent for a while, which is probably what prompted Benedict to speak up again.
"If you don't like it it's alright, I-" he began, before being cut off by the girl standing opposite him.
"No, I love it, Benedict- thank you," she responded blushingly. She put the cover back on the box, keeping the painting safe inside. An air of silence filled the room, tension rising as the two noted how closely they were standing once again. It would surely look intimate, should anyone walk in on them. Her mind raced while gazing into his eyes- she had so much to say yet nothing seemed to want to leave her mouth. She smiled sheepishly at the tall boy standing opposite her, then he began to reach his hand out in what seemed like a habit, before blinking a thought away and returning it to his side.
"Perhaps when the weather gets too warm my parents will host a weekend retreat in Suffolk, and we could recreate those childhood memories" Lucy said with a warm smile.
"Hmm. That would be lovely, Lucy" Benedict replied, clasping his arms behind his back and returning a smile.
"I will have to suggest it, then" Lucy responded, her voice a slightly higher octave.
Benedict stepped back and gave a short bow, before inching backwards toward the door.
"I shall see you tomorrow, Lucy" he said.
Yes, you will, she thought.
A/N: thanks for reading <3 leave a vote and comment to boost my ego ily