Season 1 Episode 1 - Diamond of the First Water
Beatrice found herself eating high tea with the Bridgerton family and Simon. Lady Danbury had decided to accept Beatrice's invitation to join the group on her behalf. She likely would have accepted anyways due to her newfound friendship with Daphne, but the woman was still rather vexed since she would have to spend the evening with Anthony Bridgerton. She would simply have to ignore the man. Although, that would be quite difficult seeing as he was seated right beside her. Beatrice would have much preferred to sit at the opposite end of the table with Daphne and Simon. But alas fate, or alternatively Violet Bridgerton, had other ideas.
Beatrice was rather glad that she was also seated beside Eloise Bridgerton. Despite only just meeting the girl, Beatrice believed she was one of the most tolerable Bridgerton's she had been acquainted with. She had not yet had the opportunity to properly speak to Eloise though, since the entire table was involved in a lengthy discussion regarding Lady Whistledown.
"For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury of all places" Anthony commented. A hint of judgement could be detected in his tone.
"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict asked. "Is it because people there actually work for a living?"
Stopping to consider Anthony's suggestion for a moment, Daphne tried to justify it. "She does seem to be someone with access".
"Who knows if Whistledown is even a she?" Colin questioned.
"Well the clue is in the name. Lady Whistledown is surely a lady" Beatrice argued. Despite her lack of care for the writer, even she inferred that from her name.
"Fair point Colin" Anthony stated, not even acknowledging Beatrice. She found this to be rather discourteous seeing as she was a guest in his household. Anthony however did not care for pleasantries when Beatrice was involved. He had chosen to disregard the woman, for he was sure that if he spoke to her, an argument would occur.
"Oh, because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Beatrice nodded along as Eloise spoke, misogyny was clearly the third guest at the table.
"I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury." Francesca theorised.
Daphne quickly dismantled that idea. "Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly. She would never bother herself writing them all down."
Another idea was added into the mix, this time by Hyacinth, the youngest of the family. "Could it be Lady Featherington?"
As if they were a well-rehearsed choir, the entire family replied in synchrony "No!" They all chuckled slightly, amused at the girls answer and her subsequent reaction to their sudden answer.
However, both Hyacinth and Beatrice were rather confused as to why the family were so adamant it was not Lady Featherington. The two were the only ones on the table who consumed very little of Lady Whistledown's writings.
"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featherington's, little sister." Eloise answered Beatrice's lingering thoughts.
Turning to Simon, Violet apologised. "You must forgive this rather unruly debate, Your Grace."
"Nonsense. I find it entertaining. All of you at one table, even the children." Simon secretly wished that this was the childhood he had experienced. To have other people his age that he could relate to and a parent who cared enough about him to want to spend their time with him.
"I realise it may be unfashionable, but we like each other." She paused for a moment before continuing. "Most of the time." This statement caused a smile to appear on Simon's face. For this was the fate he would truly wish for any child. "You should join us more often, both you and Miss Sinclair. Perhaps when we travel to our country seat. You would be most welcome."
Despite appearing to just be eating his meal, Anthony had been eavesdropping on Violet and Simon's conversation. Upon hearing that last statement he had straightened up in his seat, finally realised what Lady Danbury and his mother were planning.
Anthony could not act on this realisation however since his youngest siblings began arguing. Gregory began tossing peas at Hyacinth, provoking her into chastising him. "Gregory! You must stop tossing peas at me!"
"Those peas were already there! And you cannot tell me what to do. I am older!"
"I am taller!" Hyacinth countered his comment, causing Beatrice to giggle slightly. She had always desired to have younger siblings and watching the two youngest Bridgerton's bicker certainly arose this longing again.
"Children!" Violet scolded the two, quietly telling them to behave in front of their guests.
As this conversation ended, Beatrice decided to strike up a conversation with Eloise Bridgerton. Turning to the younger girl, she addressed her. "It is very nice to finally be acquainted with you Miss Bridgerton. Daphne speaks very fondly of you."
"Please enough of the formalities, call me Eloise. I must say I have been eager to meet you myself. I have heard much about you, from both Daphne and Anthony." To say she was eager was certainly an understatement. Upon hearing that Beatrice would be joining them for high tea that night, the girl could not sit still. She was all but bouncing off the walls, desperate to meet the woman that she aspired to be more like.
"Of course Eloise. You must also call me Beatrice." Smiles graced both their faces as they locked eyes."Now I am yet to explore London. Is there any places you may recommend?"
"I am afraid to tell you that London is rather dull. Other than visiting Gunter's Tea Shop and promenading in the parks, there is little to do outside of the season's planned events." Eloise answered truthfully. If it was not for her many siblings, she would likely be extremely bored when in London.
"Ah I see. Would you care to join me for a promenade then? Perhaps tomorrow? I would love to introduce you to my dearest friend Matilda. I believe the three of us have much in common."
"Yes!" Eloise replied, slightly too eagerly as almost the entire table turned to find the source of the sudden noise. Daphne and Simon were the exception to this since they were so immersed in their own discussion. "Where would you like to meet?"
"Well seeing as you know London much better than I do, I was hoping you would be able to suggest somewhere?"
"Of course! Perhaps Hyde Park? It is certainly my favourite in the city."
"Hyde Park it is then, Eloise. I shall get one of my footmen to send word to Matilda before dawn."
Beatrice and Eloise were pried from their conversation by the rising voices of Daphne and Simon. "Chaste, neat, desperate."
"I shall have you know-"
"To marry, that is. Tell me I am wrong." Simon's words caused Eloise to let out a short laugh, which promptly ended when she caught sight of her mother. Violet had sent a sharp look to her daughter, urging her to not embarrass her sister any further.
Beatrice however pitied Daphne. Although she enjoyed Simon's company, she disliked the way he had spoken to her friend.
Anthony cleared his throat, drawing the room's attention to him. "Hastings. I am so glad you decided to join us this evening. It was most spontaneous of you."
Typical, Beatrice thought. The man had not even acknowledged her presence again. Frankly, she was becoming quite vexed now. Anthony Bridgerton had not even uttered a word towards her tonight and still he was beyond infuriating.
"Not at all. With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on mine and Beatrice's behalf, well, how could we have declined?"
Violet feigned innocence as her eldest son looked at her. To divert the attention from her she instead directed it at her guests. "It is always a pleasure, Your Grace. Miss Sinclair, you must visit more often."
As the conversations resumed around the table, Anthony found himself becoming rather bothered by the guest sat beside him. Even though he had not even spoken to the woman, he found it increasing more difficult to ignore her as the evening progressed. He had even resorted to completely disregarding her presence, attempting to gain a reaction from her. Yet she did not bite, and that just maddened him even more.
He had decided to end the meal for he believed if he sat next to Beatrice for a moment longer he would lose his mind. He gained the attention of the table, preparing to leave the room. "Well, tonight has been exceptional, but I am afraid it is getting late."
"Anthony." His mother disputed this announcement. "We have not even had our dessert. Gooseberry Pie." Violet turned her attention to Simon when saying this, knowing the dessert was his favourite.
"Ah. Lovely."
***
Beatrice intended on spending the rest of the evening without uttering a word to Lord Bridgerton but the man seemed to have other plans. Whilst the group were eating their Gooseberry Pie, Anthony had decided to tap the woman's leg with his foot. To his dismay, she only flinched slightly, not expecting the sudden contact. She knew who had done it but she refused to give the man the satisfaction of gaining her attention.
After a minute or so Anthony tapped her with his foot again, twice. He was determined to gain a reaction from her now. This time the woman had been expecting the contact so did not even openly express that she had noticed his actions.
Anthony was certainly a stubborn person, and he would not let Beatrice win this game. He tapped her again. Three gentle nudges on her leg this time.
Realising the man would not stop, Beatrice acknowledged him. A furious scowl painted her face as she leant towards the man to harshly whisper at him. "Fuck off!"
"Well, that is not very ladylike of you, Miss Sinclair." A condescending smirk appeared on the man's lips. "What would my mother ever say if she heard you using such foul language at my table?" Secretly, the man had greatly enjoyed aggravating the girl. Seeing her bite at this incessant teasing's had certainly made his night more interesting.
"Ladylike?! You would like to speak about people acting civilised tonight? I can assure you Lord Bridgerton, you have been anything but civilised. Do you simply choose to lack manners, or should you need to pawn your fine china to fund some lessons in grace and decorum?" Beatrice found herself becoming extremely warm, her face turning red as she felt irritation coursing through her veins. Anthony had barely spoken to her that night yet she found herself utterly consumed by the frustration he had already caused in her.
"I find that my manners have a tendency to slip when speaking to people lesser than myself, Miss Sinclair. I shall endeavour to improve this skill should I ever be unfortunate enough to be in the company of you again."
Anthony did not truly mean any of the words he had uttered to Beatrice, yet being in her company had continually caused him to become more irrational and impulsive. Although he disliked her, he certainly did not believe her to be any lesser than him. But seeing how her scowl deepened and her attention fixated more on him as he continued to agitate her only drove him to shower her with more baseless insults.
Beatrice drew in a deep breath upon hearing this, chuckling slightly to herself. "I can assure you my lord, I would rather jump in front of a moving carriage before finding myself conversing with you again. It would undoubtedly be less of an inconvenience."
Placing her utensils down on the table, Beatrice abruptly stood up. This gained the attention of the table. "My apologies Lady Bridgerton, I am feeling quite unwell. Could I retire to my carriage?"
"Of course, Miss Sinclair. Should you need anyone to accompany you?" Violet replied, concerned for her well-being.
"That will not be necessary. One of my footmen will be waiting nearby."
Beatrice began to walk out of the room but was halted by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. Simon quickly strode towards the girl, looping his arm around hers and directing her out of the Bridgerton household. "I informed Lady Bridgerton that I would escort you home." Simon said to Beatrice as they reached her carriage. "Are you quite alright?"
"I am fine Simon. I just could not bear to sit next to that brute any longer." Simon raised an eyebrow at this comment, confused as to what had occurred during the meal. "I shall explain soon. To be candid, I just wish to retire to my bed."
***
As night fell and each Bridgerton retired to their respective bed chambers, Anthony remained in his study. The man was attempting to complete his work yet all he seemed to be doing was just staring at the words on the paper, unable to concentrate. He was beyond furious with his mother, for her meddling in Daphne's situation was only complicating it even further. Not to mention he could not forget about Beatrice. He could not stop thinking about how she undeniably vexed him. Yet it was a feeling he craved. If gaining this woman's attention was an addiction, then he was certainly an addict. And although he would go a lifetime without conversing with her, the second he would lay eyes on her, it would reignite the obsession all over again.
Violet appeared in the doorway, distracting Anthony yet again. He did not bother to look up, instead addressing her whilst still looking at the paperwork on his desk. "You were a perfectly reasonable mother until your eldest daughter came of age."
"Anthony-" his mother started before she was abruptly cut off.
"This matchmaking scheme you rather transparently concocted with Lady Danbury." He looked up at his mother, catching her guilty expression. "It will not work."
"I can think of worse matches for Daphne than a Duke." Violet commented, causing her eldest son to scoff slightly. "I believed the two of you to be friends."
"We are good friends. Which is how I know he has absolutely no intention of marrying." Despite Simon being an honourable match for his sister, Anthony had her best intentions at heart. How could he allow her to be strung along by a man who had no intention of paving her future for her.
"You must understand that all men make that assertion." She looked up at Edmund's portrait, recalling how he too had vowed that he would never marry. "Your father, even-"
"Do not bring father into this." Anthony interjected. He composed himself for a moment before continuing. "Even if he were in want of a wife, you would most certainly not have the Duke anywhere near Daphne."
"I fully subscribe to the belief that reformed rakes make the very best of husbands."
"He will not make her happy. Daphne deserves better. I know you think you are solving a problem, but you are not. That is all I shall say about the matter." Anthony turned his attention back to his work, ignoring his mother who was still stood in front of him.
Violet swayed awkwardly, knowing what she would say next would bother the man more. "The Duke will be joining us as our guest at Vauxhall tomorrow evening." Anthony had paused writing upon hearing this, looking up at his mother stunned. Violet however continued speaking. "I admit, it was not easy to convince him to come but when I extended the invitation to include Beatrice-"
Anthony did not let the woman finish speaking, interrupting her. "You overstep."
"She is my eldest daughter-"
"Yet she is my responsibility. As are you." He countered, pointing his finger at his mother in an accusatory way.
"Responsibility?" Violet questioned.
"Do not make this any more difficult than it already is."
In an ideal world, Anthony would have allowed his sister to wait to marry. To find the love of her life. Yet despite their privileged lives, time was not a luxury they could afford to exercise. If Daphne was not married within the season, all his younger sister's matches would suffer. For very few gentlemen want to court a lady whose eldest sister was seen as undesirable.
"I wish to know something, Anthony. Tonight, when you leave this study you continue to keep at your family home, are you to return to your bachelor lodgings across the square or shall you pay a visit to the nearest brothel? You rely on your younger brothers to one day do the job you refuse to do. Yet you speak of responsibility, my dear son? Of duty? Pray tell, what should you know of it." The two held each other's gazes.
"I sit with Daphne in that drawing room and I see a young woman who is terrified of the future that may await her if you continue to get in her way. She will become a spinster if she does not marry. She shall become invisible, insignificant. My beautiful, lively girl will be presumed no better than the fetid street matter scraped from your boots every morning and night. And yet she is not the only one who is terrified. Is she, Anthony?" Violet questioned.
"You have options, my boy. I have tried to match you with many women who would have made a suitable Viscountess, yet you refuse. You see marriage as such a horrifying concept, yet you are satisfied with your sister marrying whoever you see fit. Even though they are completely wrong for her." Anthony looked blankly at his mother, hurt by her words.
"If your father were still here, Daphne would have already been matched. The man would have made an arrangement with an old friend to find her a suitable match. The man would have done what was now necessary. So, you must ask yourself, are you merely an older brother? Or are you the man of this house?" Violet turned to walk out of the door before being halted in her tracks by her son's voice.
"I miss him. Father."
"It has been ten years. You can no longer use that excuse." At this, Violet walked out of the study.
Anthony remained seated, staring over at his father's portrait on the wall. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks as he considered the words his mother had said to him. He had tried so hard for the last 10 years to fill the void his father's death had created in the family, yet nothing he ever did was quite enough. How he wished it were his father finding a match for Daphne instead of him, for the man would certainly know the best course of action to take. Anthony would have to spend much more time finding the girl a perfect match. To ensure the security of her and the rest of his family. Even if this meant ignoring all distractions that may get in his way this season.
A/N
I have exams coming up so in the next 2 weeks my updates may be a bit more sporadic. Bear with me haha, I'll be writing whenever I can.