Season 1 Episode 6 - Swish
Despite claiming that Anthony Bridgerton was dead to her, Beatrice had done nothing but think of him since Daphne's wedding reception. Every waking moment she found her mind wandering towards the man. She had even spent the night tossing and turning in her bed, her thoughts denying her rest. It was not just him that she pondered though; it was what he had done, the anger that had caused. Maybe she was being irrational in hating him but she had given him her trust and he had carelessly broken it. Not only that but he almost killed Simon in the process.
It seemed quite fitting that Simon and Anthony's duel had only just occurred when today was the anniversary of her father's death. Seven years ago, when Beatrice was all but sixteen, a man aged nine and twenty was desperate to be betrothed to her. Gifts, flowers, money – Edwin Scott took any path one can imagine to gain someone's favour. Yet the Sinclair family were unflinching in their stance that they would not allow Beatrice to be betrothed to this man.
However, he was not easily deterred and one day he had appeared in their garden's, waiting for Beatrice. Fortunately for the Sinclair's, Percival was the one to find him. He had planted multiple facers before sending the man away with not only his face, but also his pride bruised. It seemed that the latter bruise healed quickly as mere hours later he returned, challenging Percival to a duel. Being a gentleman, he had tried to decline but the man threatened to falsely proclaim to high society that he had taken Beatrice's virtue.
Hearing of the news, William Sinclair would not allow his only son to partake in the event. So instead, he challenged Edwin Scott to a duel, refusing to allow his daughter's reputation to be tarnished. The next morning, he and Percival rode out to a clearing, meeting the man and his father there. A mere hour later, Percival had returned home with their father's body and news that both men had perished in the dispute that day.
The family had deeply mourned William's death for weeks. They barely slept, bathed, ate – all they could do was blame themselves for their father's and husband's death. None of them knew how they would overcome such loss until one day Percival awoke and put on a brave face. That day he managed to get both his mother and sister to eat a full meal at the dining table and to bathe. Then the next day, the same occurred. Finally, months later the family felt able to continue on with their lives again. Every day they still found a themselves mourning William, but they had to continue on living, for him. He would not want them all to lock themselves away forever.
Once they eventually returned to London, they had falsified the nature of his death. Consumption – that is what had stolen his life away from him. No one could know that he had died partaking in an illegal duel. William's legacy would not be that he was a criminal.
This was why Beatrice could not forgive Anthony for what he had done. She had almost had to watch someone she considered to be family die in the same traumatic way her father had departed the world. If it was to have been anyone else who broke her trust, perhaps she would not have felt so betrayed. But for some strange reason, she felt heartbroken.
***
If there was one event that could improve Beatrice Sinclair's mood, it would undoubtedly be a garden party. Whilst any other high society soirée meant that she would be trapped in an enclosed room, having to speak to members of the ton that she had never met before. Garden parties allowed all involved to mingle with who they wished in the glorious outdoors, with nature as their decoration. The only complication of the day would be Anthony Bridgerton. Having already promised to speak with Eloise during the event, she was bound to come into close proximity with him and although she wished to ignore him, Beatrice did not know if she would be able to suppress her hatred of the man.
Upon entering the garden, she spotted Eloise conversing with her mother near the centre of all the plants and shrubbery. Taking her leave from Percival, Beatrice strode in that direction, carefully navigating the rows of bushes along the way. When she was around half of the way to her destination, a large object hit her, almost causing her to topple over. After regaining her balance, she looked down to identify what she had hit. Although, it seemed to be a who rather than a what as there stood Hyacinth Bridgerton with Gregory trailing not too far behind her.
The girl looked towards the floor, not yet realising who she had run into. "I am terribly sorry, Miss-" Hyacinth began before looking upwards to identify who she was speaking to.
"Beatrice!" Both Hyacinth and Gregory shouted in unison.
Since Beatrice had dined with them at the beginning of the season, she had regularly visited the Bridgerton's household by invitation of either Eloise or Daphne. During that time the two youngest Bridgerton's had grown incredibly fond of the woman, begging her to join in with their games at every given opportunity. Beatrice had obviously always accepted.
"Gregory! Hyacinth!" Beatrice exclaimed, pulling the pair into a tight hug. Having no younger siblings of her own, she had developed a fast liking towards the youngest Bridgerton's.
All the shouting had gained the attention of the eldest Bridgerton sibling. Anthony had been keeping a close eye on his youngest siblings, ensuring they weren't getting themselves into trouble. However, this time when they had caught his attention, they had an additional face with them. He watched as Beatrice Sinclair embraced Gregory and Hyacinth, a radiant smile appearing on her lips. Anthony never believed he would feel jealous of his youngest siblings, yet seeing them interact with Beatrice made him feel so. Although he would not openly admit it, he terribly missed her company. Even if they would spend the majority of their time together arguing.
"I have missed you both," Beatrice declared as she pulled away from the pair.
"I have missed you too." Hyacinth replied sweetly, beaming up at the woman. When she was older, Hyacinth Bridgerton wanted to be just like Beatrice Sinclair.
"We only saw her last week." Gregory retorted, rolling his eyes at the pair's dramatics.
Hyacinth scowled at her brother. He always had to disagree with her. "Yes, and I have missed her ever since. Beatrice is much more fun to play with than you, Gregory."
The pair were certainly a comedic duo. Beatrice found herself attempting to hold in her laugh, completely bemused by their squabbling. "Oh no, I could never claim to be half as fun as either one of you."
He would not admit it but Gregory wished Beatrice was one of his sisters. Whilst he did love all his siblings for their individual traits, Beatrice brought a different energy to the family. She provided a balance between the seriousness of Anthony, and the playful nature of Hyacinth. "Perhaps you are not as fun as me, but you are certainly more fun than Hyacinth," he stated.
"Gregory. Take that back!" Hyacinth complained, unamused with her brothers teasing.
"Never!"
Beatrice caught the pairs attention, stepping between them so they would not pounce on one another. "Alright, you two, there is no need to argue. You are both equally as fun as each other."
"Whilst we are discussing having fun, will you play tap with us Bea?" Hyacinth asked, batting her eyelashes as she did so.
Tap was a game that Beatrice had introduced to the pair a few weeks before. Although the concept was not entirely hers, it was the name that she and Percival had given the game when they were young. It involved the participants chasing one another – with one being the tapper and the rest being the runners. Once the tapper tapped a runner and shouted "tap", they would become the tapper and the game would continue. A demonstration had been necessary for the Bridgerton's to fully understand the rules of the game.
"You remember that?" Beatrice asked, her smile becoming even brighter. After it had taken her such a long while to explain the rules to the children, she had convinced herself that they would completely forget about the game once she had left.
Gregory gave her a confused look, scrunching up his nose. "Of course we do. We have been playing it every day since you taught us."
"Now, please will you play?" Hyacinth begged, adding a pouted lip to her routine.
Beatrice felt as though she could melt at the expression Hyacinth was giving her. Should she have been at their home, she would have broken instantly and spent the majority of the morning playing games with them. "I wish I could but you know it is not appropriate for me to do so here. Listen, next time I am invited to your home, we can play tap then. Deal?"
Hyacinth and Gregory looked towards one another for a moment, silently deciding if they should agree to the woman's terms. After they both nodded, they held their hands out for Beatrice to shake. "Deal!"
Beatrice looked towards where she had last seen Eloise once she had shaken both of their hands, seeing that she was still stood with Violet Bridgerton. "Now I promised Eloise that I would join her today but I shall see you both later." She announced before being trapped in a loving hug by the pair.
Finally freeing herself after a minute or so, Beatrice continued on her way to the centre of the garden. As she approached Eloise, the girl noticed her presence, sending a wave in her direction. "Beatrice, I thought you would never come and find me." Eloise called out.
"Hello Eloise, Violet," Beatrice greeted the pair kindly. "I was intending on finding you around five minutes ago but Gregory and Hyacinth distracted me. I hope I am not intruding on your conversation now though."
Violet shook her head at Beatrice's assumption; she was too fond of her to ever believe that she was intruding. In the many times that the young woman had visited her home, Violet had grown quite accustomed to her company. Quite frankly, she had hoped that the woman would marry one of her sons. Originally she had intended for it be Benedict; he was quite similar in age to Beatrice and from what Violet had witnessed, they seemed content in each other's presence. Yet, seeing how she had interacted with Anthony had completely changed her mind. They suited one another perfectly. Although they would likely disagree; Violet found that they shared the same temperament, not to mention countless other qualities. Although she predicted that it would take them some time to realise it, she was beyond certain that Beatrice would one day become Viscountess Bridgerton.
"Oh no, not at all, my dear. We were just discussing how best to prepare Eloise for her season."
As Violet finished her sentence, Eloise began to mouth the words "help me" to Beatrice. Although she had attempted to be discreet, Violet had witnessed the entire thing. Whilst Eloise was being chastised for her behaviour, Beatrice tried to conceal her amusement. In doing so she diverted her gaze to behind the pair. However, that seemed to be a poor idea as she then locked eyes with Anthony Bridgerton. He had been speaking to some woman Benedict had introduced him to, yet he could not help but keep sneaking glances at Beatrice. When she had seen him too, his charming demeanour faltered for a moment before he regained his composure, putting on his charade once again. However, a longing remained in his eyes. A longing that only Beatrice could see. He could not will himself to look away from her.
It seemed that the more she saw him, the harder it was for Beatrice to remain angry with Anthony. While she still was not prepared to forgive him for what he had done, she did wonder if she was wrongly misjudging him. Ever since that night, he had not given her any reason to despise him. If anything, he had done the exact opposite. He had respected her wishes – giving her space to process her anger. Not wanting him to believe that her opinion of him was changing, she sent a half-hearted scowl in his direction, hoping that would deter him from approaching her again.
As she turned back towards Eloise and Violet, the pair had just commenced their dispute. "Now on the subject of preparing you to enter society properly, I think it is time we lowered your skirts to wear at home."
"I have no time for a visit to the modiste. I am busy." Eloise groaned; she was much too indisposed with her task from the queen to entertain her mother's ideas.
Mistaking Eloise's reluctance for nervousness, Beatrice tried to comfort her. "You must not worry about having your skirts lowered, El. Ever since I had mine adjusted, I have found the harsh winter breeze to be much more manageable."
"No, it's not that!" Eloise stated, shaking her head. "The queen herself has charged me with discovering Lady Whistledown's identity. You both would not have me cross her majesty, would you?"
Violet gave her daughter an exasperated look. "Eloise Bridgerton, how exactly do you expect to be able to fulfil that role? Lady Whistledown could be anyone."
"That is exactly why I need ample time to investigate all of the ton." She sassed back. It was not as if she had asked the queen to be tasked with such a position and she certainly could not just decline her demand.
Beatrice simply rolled her eyes, becoming rather bored with the subject of Lady Whistledown. "I cannot believe you still care about that gossip. Lady Whistledown will be felled one day, no one can maintain such a secret forever."
Eloise scoffed at her comment; Lady Whistledown was quite possibly the most interesting person in high society. However, before she could vocalise her opinion, Colin gained the attention of everyone in the garden by tapping his glass.
"May I have everyone's attention?" He called, waiting for the last fleeting words of the ton to be spoken. "I would like to make a small but important announcement. I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife, and she has accepted."
Whilst Eloise immediately moved to congratulate her brother, Beatrice stood frozen in place. How on earth had this transpired? Sure, she had noted that Colin had danced with the woman at some events, but that did not warrant a marriage. To her knowledge, they were not even courting. Hell, if one were to marry after a few dances, she and Anthony would be next in line. It was an utterly ridiculous notion!
She turned to Violet, unable to read her expression. "Have I been completely oblivious to this courtship or is this quite unexpected?"
"Unexpected is an understatement. I did not even know that he fancies the girl." Violet whispered. What was Colin thinking?
Being as utterly bewildered as his mother and Beatrice, Anthony joined the pair beside Violet. "Did you know about this?"
"People are looking, dear. Congratulate the happy couple." Violet ordered, putting on a false smile.
She strode off towards Colin but Anthony remained by Beatrice. He had not been this close to her since the duel. They stood in silence for a short while, Beatrice having forgotten why she felt so betrayed by him the moment she gazed into his chestnut brown eyes.
"Miss Sinclair, I am sorry-," he began, speaking in the sincerest tone that Beatrice had ever heard. However, his words promptly returned her to reality as she remembered that she was supposed to hate him. Feeling unable to send a look of malice his way, Beatrice instead chose to walk away towards Colin and Marina.
Her sudden departure caused Anthony to cut his apology short; there was no point in him speaking into the abyss. If it were possible, he felt his mood sour even further than it already had been in the past few weeks. He had really believed that she was going to allow him to at least apologise.
***
When they had returned home from the garden party, Anthony summoned Colin to his study. As they entered the room, Anthony shut the door behind him, not wanting his family to overhear their argument. "You barely know the young lady. What on earth were you thinking?"
Colin sat down, preparing himself for the lecture he was about the receive. However, Anthony remained stood, towering over his brother. "I was thinking you would probably respond like this and how little I would care to hear it," Colin replied.
"Do you think this is a joke? Poor mother was beside herself."
"Mother seems perfectly happy to me. She congratulated us," Colin retorted. Somehow, he could not understand that this news was completely unexpected for his family. Of course they were not going to be pleased.
"So, you compromised this young lady?"
"Certainly not. I am a gentleman," Colin retaliated. He would never compromise a woman.
Anthony furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Why was Colin so eager to marry this girl if he had done no wrong? "Then why ever would you-."
"Why does anyone marry, brother? For love, of course."
Anthony sighed, sitting himself down in his chair. "Look I know you are still rather green, and that is my fault. I should have taken you to brothels when you returned home from Eton. If this is simply a matter of wetting your wick-."
"You really are an ass. Do you know that?" Colin retorted, a frown forming on his lips. Why could he not just marry Marina? He did not care to compromise her, he just wished to marry the woman he loved.
"This is what comes from not sowing your wild olds. Proposing to the first chit you set you cap on." Oh how Anthony blamed himself for this. If he would have correctly met his role as an older brother, they may not be in this mess.
"Enough!" Colin finally shouted, rising from his chair. "You insult me and you insult my intended. It is not my fault, nor Marina's, that you cannot fathom true attachment. You have been in a foul mood since Beatrice has been disregarding you and you are punishing us for it."
Anthony shook his head. Why did his family always have to mention Beatrice Sinclair when conversations were not going in the way they wished? "Miss Sinclair has nothing to do with this discussion. We are speaking of you. You are still a child, Colin. You do not understand true attachment."
"I am older than Daphne and you were happy to marry her off," He declared. The hypocrisy in his family was absolutely infuriating to the man.
Despite his frustration, Anthony maintained a calm demeanour. He did not want the argument to escalate, for Colin was still his brother. "It is not the same and you know it."
"I know nothing of the sort," Colin countered, still stubborn in his opinion.
Anthony finally shouted now, displeased with Colin's unyielding comments. "Then you betray your immaturity!"
Colin looked down at the floor. There was no point in continuing the discussion as it was clear to him that neither one of them would change their mind. "If I caused mother any discomfort today, I am sorry for it. I shall speak with her. The truth is, I don't not require your permission to marry Miss Thompson but I would very much prefer to have your blessing."
"Then I am afraid I must disappoint you," Anthony replied.
"You have. In more ways than one." Colin spoke before leaving the room.
As the door shut and Anthony was left alone with only his thoughts, he placed his head in his hands. Why could it never be easy for him? Why was it that despite giving his all to his family, it was never enough? He tried so hard to give his siblings the best possible futures, yet still they were ungrateful for all he did. Did they not want to be happy? Did they want to be trapped in loveless marriages? Whilst Anthony desired just that, he knew his siblings did not wish for that fate. But instead of trusting his judgement, they all disobeyed him. Deciding that they knew best. He was certain they would not have done the same were their father still alive. They would likely ask him for his advice, but they would not ask Anthony. No matter what he did, he could never live up to the legacy of Edmund Bridgerton.
***
Tears streamed down Beatrice's face as she sat alone on a bench in her garden under the cover of a large oak tree. She had tried to push all thoughts of her father from her mind but when she laid in bed, attempting to sleep, they weighed on her. If the goodness of her heart was to be weighed on the scales of judgement that night, she was sure it would be heavy with regret. For she missed her father more than words could explain and she could not help but blame herself for his death. Perhaps if she had been strong, if she had not refused to marry Edwin Scott, her father would be with her now. But alas he was not and that was her cross to bear.
After she sat for a long while, with only the viscous demons in her mind keeping her company, she heard a twig snap behind her followed by her older brother's voice. "May I join you, Bea?"
Jumping at the sudden noise, she remained facing away from the house and Percival. She wiped away the dried tears from her cheeks and attempted to not allow any new ones to form. Without looking at her brother, she answered his request. "Yes, of course. Come sit," she said whilst patting the empty space beside her.
"Could you not sleep either?" He asked light-heartedly, not wanting to mention their father if that was not what was ailing her. However, when Beatrice turned towards him, the smudges of dried tears painting her crimson cheeks, he knew exactly why she could not sleep. Percival pulled his sister into his side, allowing her to lay her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Bea," he muttered.
Tears continued to flow freely from the woman's eyes as she rested her head on her brother's shoulder. "How is it that after seven years, I still miss him as much as I did when I was sixteen?" She asked. Grief was an emotion that faded for her over time, yet the absence that her father's death had caused had never diminished.
"Because you loved him. Because we all loved him." Percival explained, he too understood the longing Beatrice had to see their father again. Anyone would miss their father, even if he were uncaring, but William Sinclair was the opposite of that. It would be impossible for anyone to not mourn him. "He was the best man I've ever known."
"Then why did it have to be him? Why could it have not been some terrible person?" She questioned aloud. In Beatrice's short time on this earth, she had come to realise that death was completely unfair. Those with truly pure hearts were always cheated by it, yet those who chose to follow their selfish desires were left to mourn them. "I wish I had just married Edwin Scott; father would still be alive then. It is all my fault."
Percival shook his head, disagreeing with her. "It is no one's fault except for Edwin Scott's. So, we cannot blame ourselves for what transpired. Trust me, I have tried. If I had not allowed father to take my place in the duel, he would still be here now. But I have come to understand that he would have never wished for me to perish or for you to be wed to that awful man. He died knowing that he had killed his opponent, and that despite our heartbreak, we would all be okay."
Despite knowing deep within her mind that Percival was right, Beatrice struggled to believe it. How could it be that she had made the right choice if her father perished because of it? Surely, she would have been rewarded for following the right path. Yet she only felt as though she was being punished. "I just wish he were here, with us."
"He may not be here physically but he will always be with us in here," Percival told her as he pointed to her heart. "And here." He added, this time pointing towards her head with a sad smile on his face. "The memories we have of father and the love we still hold for him will keep him forever present in our lives. In every decision we make and every path we take, he will be right there beside us. Even if we cannot see him."
Hearing this only tormented her more. She knew her grief was likely causing her to be irrational but to carry William Sinclair with her forever would mean that she could disappoint him with any mistake she made. "What if we follow a path that he does not wish us to? I sometimes wonder if he would ever forgive me for choosing to not marry. I know he and mother always wanted us to marry for love, but in the absence of that, would he be proud if I became a spinster? I cannot bear the thought of him hating me for it."
"He could never not be proud of you." Percival assured her, holding onto her hands as they spoke. "I remember him and mother knowing many spinsters, and never once did he speak lowly of them because of it. Whether you choose the path of marriage or not, he could never hate you for it. Never once has he judged you."
For the next ten minutes, Beatrice and Percival sat in a comforting silence, relying on the comfort of each other's company. As her tears stopped and she began to become more rational, she understood Percy's words. In the sixteen years she had spent with her father, he had never judged or scolded her for anything she had done. Instead, he had always supported her, ensuring that she could follow her heart.
"You always know how to comfort me, Percy. Throughout everything you have been so strong for me and mother, and you never gain any thanks for it." She said quietly, her voice barely breaking through the wind that swept around the garden. "So thank you, for it all."
"There is no need to thank me," he assured her. Truthfully, he would choose to do the same time and time again if it meant that his family were happy. "I have just done what any brother and son would do for his little sister and mother."
Shaking her head, she disagreed with his comment. Many men in high society would simply take their new title, having no care for their family. They would usually move their younger siblings and mother to a house with only their staff as company, then find a wife for themselves and built a new family. But Percival did not do any of that, he had spent the past seven years selflessly supporting the family he already had. Despite being at a suitable age for marriage for many years, he had not just married any woman for her wealth. Instead, he waited to find the woman he loved to make his family whole.
"That is completely untrue. Most would not do what you have."
"I love you, Bea."
"I love you too, Percy," she countered.
There was no point in praising him anymore than she already had, for she knew that he would not accept it. Although William Sinclair did not live on, his kindness and morals remained instilled in Percival. She had never realised it before, but Percy was so similar to her father. If she had realised this many years ago, she was sure it would have caused her a great deal of pain. Yet now, it was a larger comfort to her than she could have ever imagined.