The Art of Racing and Poetry
Dearest reader,
It has been said that competition is an opportunity for us to rise and stand ready before our greatest of challenges.
Well, if what this author hears this morning is true, then a great challenge concerning this season's diamond has been set forth, indeed.
Any suitor wishing to gain an audience with Miss Edwina Sharma must first tame the rather prickly spinster of a beast otherwise known as her sister.
Bridgerton House, London
"Miss Sharma?" Benedict questioned as the staff continued to shave him and his brother.
"Miss Edwina Sharma. Not the sister," Anthony clarified. "Miss Edwina will suffice."
"Let me ask you something, Brother... Basically I am married into the Royal Family, Daphne married a Duke..." Benedict spoke. "Hastings and Daphne could help us look after our family. You know obviously Charlotte and I will... There are enough people to look after our family. Wouldn't you like to marry for love too?"
"That's unnecessary. It is only out of the greatest love of my family that I aim to choose a bride with my head and not my..." Both brothers exchanged a glance. "Heart."
"Does Miss Edwina return your affection?" Benedict asked.
"Not yet. She would have done if it were not for—"
"The sister," Benedict mocked. "She's rather thorny, I take it?"
"Indeed," Anthony nodded. "Though she need not trouble me. Every rose does have its thorn, after all."
Of course the only competition that compels my attention is the game of courtship.
So best of luck to this year's players. Do try not to stumble on the starting line.
Few hours later, the drawing room of Bridgerton House was bathed in the soft glow of daylight filtering through the heavy curtains. Few members of the family were gathered while the Viscount was away calling on the diamond of the season. The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn and the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton engaged in polite conversation while embroidering, the Duke sat in front of them, working on a few sketches while Eloise Bridgerton analyzed the latest Lady Whistledown's issue.
"Good morning, Your Royal Highnesses, Bridgertons," Penelope Featherington greeted them with a small curtsy as she walked in the room.
"Good morning, Penelope," Charlotte smiled at the young girl. "How is your family?"
"We– We're good! Thank you, Ma'am," she smiled nervously and looked at her best friend. "Is that a copy of Lady Whistledown?"
"It is," Eloise smiled.
"I thought we were done with her," Penelope stated.
"Do not discourage her, Penelope," Violet spoke. "If she has taken an interest in Lady Whistledown again, perhaps she's interested in what she has to say about the season's available gentlemen too."
"I cannot think of any cleverer way to say this, but no," Eloise sighed and turned to her best friend. "Her latest is not exactly the philosophical treatise on the rights of the fairer sex I was hoping for, but—"
"I do not think Lady Whistledown has changed her style of writing since her last issue," Penelope commented.
"Perhaps not," Eloise said. "But perhaps she still can."
"Perhaps she does not want to," Penelope added. "And if she's even sparked your renewed interest, El, then perhaps whatever she is doing is working."
"Yes, but she could do so much more," Eloise insisted. "I know I could convince her of it. If I were to find her this time."
"What you must find, my dear, is happiness," Violet intervened. "Penelope, assist me here. Eloise could find that
with someone else, could she not?"
"I believe she could. And not Lady Whistledown," she responded. "But someone more like– Colin."
"My brother?" Eloise asked, confused.
"No, not Coli– Colin!" Penelope stuttered as a wide smile graced her face.
"Glad to see things have not changed," the third Bridgerton of the family spoke with a small smirk on his face.
"Brother!" Benedict grinned at his wife and helped her stand behind him.
"Colin!" Violet exclaimed, happily.
"Could you set aside the latest family squabble and embrace me?" Colin looked at Eloise and the two shared a tight embrace.
"I did not expect you to return so soon, dearest," his mother said as he now embraced her too.
"Well, I missed you all. What can I say?" Colin smiled and went to hug his brother.
"Welcome back, my dear Colin," finally, Charlotte spoke, and his face softened as he let go of the embrace with his brother and saw the size of her stomach.
"Bloody hell!" Colin exclaimed, and in a split of a second, mischievous thoughts traveled through his mind. "It's not mine, is it?"
"Colin!" Violet and Charlotte gasped while Benedict hit the back of his brother's head.
"How could it possibly be his child when she is married to—"
"Enough, Eloise," her mother chuckled nervously.
"Oh, my God! Char!" Colin chuckled as he kissed both of her cheeks. "Sister! You– You're with child! How– How far long are you?"
"Exactly 34 weeks today, according to the royal physician," she grinned as she took both of his hands in hers. "You were gone for a long time... Uncle Colin."
"Oh, my heart," he sighed contently. "Why didn't you tell me in one of your letters?"
"We wanted to see your reaction," Benedict wrapped his arm around his wife.
Then, Colin turned to the other person in the room. A dear friend of the family, Penelope Featherington. The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn happened to notice the way her brother-in-law opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Also, the way Penelope's smile slowly grew wide, one could almost miss her eyes.
"Brother! Brother!" The moment was abruptly cut off by the joyful voices of the youngest of the family.
Colin grinned and gasped as he was pulled into a tight embrace by both Gregory and Hyacinth.
"I believe we must get you to the doctor post-haste," Benedict joked. "This strange, fuzzy growth on your chin is some kind of disease."
"And you seem to have taken to the sun too. How peculiar," Francesca commented.
"I think he looks distinguished," Penelope spoke quietly.
"I'm now two inches taller than Gregory," Hyacinth informed her brother.
"You are not," Gregory stated.
"And where, may I ask, is our intrepid Viscount?" Colin asked.
"He is..." Violet spoke, but paused when she saw her eldest son walking in the room. "...back from courting already."
"Colin! You are returned. Even better," Anthony patted his shoulder. "Family, I should like you all to ready yourselves for the races today. We will be attending, united as one."
"Then I should—"
"No—"
"But—"
"Char—"
"My love!" She exclaimed. "There is no way I am missing your first official public act!"
"What act?" Eloise questioned.
"I thought you told them?" She gasped, and squealed happily as she hugged his arm. "His Royal Highness will open today's races."
"What does that mean?" Hyacinth asked her.
"This sort of events begin with regal ceremonies, my dear Hyacinth, and sometimes inaugurated by members of the Royal Family," Charlotte grinned. "Of course I will be by his side through it all, but the one in charge will be him."
"Goodness!" Violet exclaimed, but smiled nonetheless.
"Congratulations, Brother," Anthony nodded.
"The things we do for love," Benedict looked at his wife, who couldn't stop smiling.
"Die Dinge, die wir aus Liebe tun," Charlotte got on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose. The things we do for love.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Royal Heath, London
The Royal Heath horse races in the 1800s were grand and prestigious events, attracting nobility, aristocracy, and high society. Held on the meticulously maintained grounds of the Royal Heath, these races were not merely sporting events but social occasions that showcased opulence, fashion, and the thrill of equestrian competition.
For the regal ceremony, both the Duke and Duchess of Kent and Strathearn had arrived to the races in their carriage, with the royal escort for everyone to see. Charlotte was handed flowers after the anthem 'God Save the King' echoed through the field. Benedict's cheeks eventually turned red of embarrassment by everyone's claps and cheers. Nonetheless, he knew it was something he has to get used to.
The races featured impeccably bred and trained horses, a source of pride for the owners. The animals were paraded before the spectators, allowing attendees to appreciate their strength, grace, and beauty. Already some gentlemen were placing bets on their favored horses, adding an element of excitement and competition beyond the actual races.
"It is a marvel you love literature as much as I do," Lord Lumley spoke, joining the Sharma sisters and Lady Danbury to the event. "Do you enjoy Byron?"
"I have read some, my lord," Edwina responded. "Though I believe myself to be a novice when it comes to poetry."
"How fortunate to have found such a well-deserved teacher in Lord Lumley, then," Kate told her sister with a smile.
"Many find poetry a flat medium. Words read silently from a page. But I believe it is meant to be read aloud like music," he said, then stopped. "Here, I carry a small pocket copy of my favorites with me wherever I go."
"Lady Danbury. I would be so honored if you could facilitate a proper introduction," a man suddenly approached them. "I fear my calling card got lost in the shuffle at your home this morning."
"Of course," Lady Danbury nodded. "Mr. Thomas Dorset, allow me to introduce Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina Sharma."
"A pleasure," he smiled.
"I am afraid my sister already has an escort for today, Mr. Dorset," Kate stated calmly.
"That is very well. Though I was hoping to speak with you," he clarified, and slowly approached her. "How are you finding the season, Miss Sharma?"
"It is a season," she chuckled. "Mr. Dorset, I really should—"
"London is a far cry from Bombay," he cut her off. "It is where you traveled from, yes?"
"Yes," a small smile graced her face.
"I have visited. It is a wondrous place," Kate looked at him, surprised. "You must miss it dearly."
"Oh, every minute of every day. But most especially at tea time," both chuckled at her statement.
Kate Sharma looked around when no more words were exchanged, and happened to lay eyes on the Viscount Bridgerton, the very last person she wanted to see that day. However, in some way, she expected his presence. His stubbornness and determination would make him not give up so easy... Little does he know, Kate was not only stubborned, but determined too. Like him.
"We should find our seats," she quickly looked away when the Viscount locked eyes with her nodded in greeting.
"Allow me to join you," Mr. Dorset insisted, and Kate only nodded as they walked away.
"Bridgertons!" Anthony's thoughts were interrupted by the call of William Mondrich, a friend of his brother-in-law, the Duke of Hastings. "Your Royal Highnesses."
"Mr. Mondrich," Benedict greeted him. "It appears retirement suits you well."
"If only he were retired," Alice, Mr. Mondrich's wife smiled at her husband.
"Are you planning another foray into the ring?" Colin asked him.
"Into business, in fact. I am opening a gentleman's club," he explained. "Set to rival even the select haunts on St. James's, if we are fortunate."
"You do know we have all been members of White's since birth," Anthony spoke.
"Our grand opening is tomorrow night. You're all invited—"
"Apologies. If you will excuse me," the Viscount quickly took his leave the moment he spotted the diamond of the season approaching the grandstands.
"Tell me, Mr. Mondrich. I wouldn't mind some stimulation," Benedict smiled politely at the man.
"And I better make my way home before the races begin," she informed both Benedict and Colin and smiled at the Mondrich. "Excuse me. Oh, lovely to see you again, Alice, Will."
"The honor is ours, always, Ma'am," both smiled her.
"Wait!" Colin said before she could walk away. "You know about these races a whole lot more than I do. Who should I pick?"
"If you do not wish to lose your money, my dear Colin, then I would pick High Flyer," she smirked and winked at her husband. "I already instructed His Royal Highness to do the same. He knows better than to doubt my knowledge and expertise in this sport."
"Why not Nectar, Ma'am?" Mr. Mondrich questioned. "I'm hearing he is most favored by all."
"For a horse to win, he must be more than just the 'most favored by all'," Charlotte explained her view. "And given the fact that the weather today is disgustingly hot and the track is soft... I say Nectar might come...second-best today."
"My wife, ladies and gentlemen," the Duke of Kent and Strathearn smiled proudly at her. "I'll see you at home."
Joined by Martin and Fatima, Charlotte made her way towards where the carriage was waiting for her to take her back to Bridgerton House. As much as she would have loved to support Anthony today staying with the family, she didn't want to over exceed herself while being with child still. However, all Bridgertons were in charged to later inform her how everything went on, specially the moment when the Duke of Kent and Strathearn is supposed to hand the prizes to the winners.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Bridgerton House, London
The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn arrived just in time to change out of her dress into a more comfortable one for her lessons with her tutor. The decision to learn Welsh had sprouted from her desire to forge a profound connection with the people she would one day officially represent, and because her brother suggested it. She sought the guidance of a learned tutor, a wise and elderly man named Owain Powell, who was well-versed in the intricacies of the language and its rich cultural nuances.
Their lessons unfolded in Anthony's study whenever he was away. Charlotte had started at the beggining of the year, and now months later her pronunciation transformed from hesitant to confident. She immersed herself in the beauty of Welsh poetry, exploring the works of revered bards and learning to appreciate the profound connection between the language and the landscape it described. She discovered that each word carried the weight of history and tradition, binding the people of Wales together in a cultural tapestry.
The Palace obviously spread the rumors of the newfound linguistic prowess of the Duchess and it did not go unnoticed by the Welsh courtiers and common folk alike. Whispers of admiration echoed through the stone corridors of the streets of Wales, hoping to one day welcome her and converse in their native tongue.
Few minutes after her tutor left, she went back to her bedroom and read some poetry while lying on bed, waiting for the Bridgertons to arrive. Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. The gentle hum of the afternoon surrounded her, and the pages of her book rustled as she turned them. The soft, rhythmic ticking of the antique clock on the mantel seemed to lull her into a state of relaxation.
Suddenly, a wave of unexpected fatigue washed over Charlotte. Her eyes, heavy with drowsiness, blinked slowly as she tried to fight off the sudden urge to succumb to sleep. It was the middle of the afternoon, an unusual time for such lethargy to strike.
Resisting the impending drowsiness, the Duchess shifted on the bed and attempted to refocus on her book. Yet, the words on the pages seemed to dance, blurring into an indecipherable haze. The comfort of the sheets embraced her, the soft pillows inviting her to surrender to the embrace of a midday nap.
Unbeknownst to Charlotte, her eyes closed of their own accord, and she drifted into a light slumber.
An hour later, a sudden jolt brought the Duchess back to consciousness. Her eyes flew open, and for a moment, she found herself disoriented, wondering how she had fallen asleep in the middle of the day. The room, once filled with the hushed tranquility of afternoon sunlight, now seemed to hold an air of surprise.
She sat up abruptly, glancing at the clock as if accusing it of playing tricks on her. The hands on its face had moved a bit, confirming that she had indeed dozed off. Charlotte couldn't help but feel a twinge of shock; it was an unprecedented event in her life. She, the master of schedules and productivity, always busy, always doing something, now had momentarily surrendered to the embrace of an unplanned nap.
Nonetheless, a wry smile crossed her face as she acknowledged the unexpected detour in her day. The experience, though startling, brought with it a realization – perhaps, in the midst of the ordinary, there were moments when even the most diligent needed a break, a stolen nap in the middle of the afternoon to remind her of the simple joy of surrendering to the unexpected.
Slowly, she got up from the bed and out of the room. The voices of Hyacinth and Gregory made her realize the Bridgertons were already back from the races. She descended downstairs and into the Viscount's study, to find him and her husband sitting down next to one another, whiskey in hand. Anthony's leg anxiously moved up and down while his gaze remained focus on the wall. Benedict, on the other hand, the moment he noticed his wife's presence he went to her side, cupped her face in his hands and passionately kissed her.
"I don't want to do anything like that again," Benedict commented when he broke the kiss. "Not without you."
"I'm sure everything went as it was supposed to," she smiled and looked at her brother in law. "Did it?"
"I'm afraid I can't say the same as my brother," Anthony sighed. "I need to figure out a plan for Miss Sharma to change her mind about me."
"Did you not have a plan for today?" She questioned. "How did that go?"
"Clearly not so well if I had to hear it all on the way back," Benedict stated and his brother scoffed. "I'm going to change. These shoes have grown small on me."
"I'll wait for you here," Charlotte closed her eyes, enjoying her husband's affection as he kissed her cheek.
Then, after her husband left, she looked at the Viscount, who had just served himself some whiskey to only down it all again. The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn sighed in disbelief before sitting down across him.
"Right," she said. "Tell me everything."
"Miss Sharma—"
"The sister?" She questioned.
"Yes, the sister," he stated. "We never agree on anything. Her behavior is– is just scandalous! Unlike any other woman I've ever known."
"And how is Miss Edwina?" She asked. "The diamond. She is the young lady you are trying to court, is she not?"
"Yes. Miss Edwina is way different from her sister. Her movements are much more delicate and her behavior is much more nice than Miss Sharma's and much more alike to the ladies in our society," Anthony explained. "Honestly, Miss Sharma is just so difficult to please. Nothing agrees with her. Nothing I do is right."
"And other than observing her movements and behavior, what else happened?" She lightly chuckled.
"Before I start," the Viscount paused. "Look– I meant no harm."
"Goodness, Anthony," she sighed. "What have you done now?"
"I payed Dorset to distract Miss Sharma while I spent time with Miss Edwina," he explained while his sister-in-law shook her head in disapproval. "I wish you could have been there so you would stop judging me with that look."
"Miss Sharma is just a little overprotective over her sister because she wishes for her sister to find love, a man who respects her as a woman," Charlotte stated. "If you really wish to cause an impression on Miss Sharma so she allows you to spend more time with Miss Edwina, then it must be genuine, sincere."
"It is genuine," Anthony stated, and sighed. "Onto another topic... My horse lost."
"Oh! Please tell me High Flyer won! I told Colin and Benedict to—"
"You told them to gamble on High Flyer?" Anthony frowned. "Bu– But Nectar is good!"
"These are royal races, Anthony. I know these horses quite well," she smirked. "High Flyer had all the advantage... Can't really understand how you missed that, really."
"Perhaps I just thought too little about it," he stated, bitterly.
"Anthony, I didn't mean to—"
"It's not you, Char. It's just..." He sighed. "Nothing."
The Viscount stood up and went to have another drink, when memories of today's races swam through his mind.
"Nectar. Well-bred, highly trained, and well-favored," Anthony explained his pick to Edwina.
"Nectar. Really?" Kate questioned from beside him.
"Yes," the Viscount nodded. "I have a feeling about him."
"A feeling," Kate almost scoffed at his words.
"Pardon me?" He frowned.
"You simply chose the horse everyone else has chosen," she stated. "Quite a 'feeling'."
"I made a strategic bet," he smirked.
"So you've considered your horse's temperament, as well as the conditions of the track, in order to properly assess its true potential?" Kate questioned.
"It is suddenly rather warm, is it not?" Edwina tried to intervene.
"Nectar is a prize steed," but was ignored by the Viscount.
"We should find a little more shade," Mr. Dorset tried too.
"Nectar ran well at Doncaster, but that was a firmer course," Kate continued, ignoring Mr. Dorset too. "The weather was much cooler. Thus his size was an advantage. Today the track is soft, and it is hot, meaning he will struggle to make headway, overheat, and slow down during the final leg, giving High Flyer, a much swifter, lighter, cooler horse, the victory."
"You think too much about it," Anthony looked away.
"And you, too little," Kate stated firmly.
The Viscount snapped out of his thoughts when the door of his study was closed shut. There they were now the Duke and Duchess of Kent and Strathearn, sitting next to one another talking lowly about their unborn child. Anthony almost smiled when his brother kissed his wife's belly and placed his hand over it.
"Have you felt it, Brother?" Benedict wondered.
"No," he looked away, nervously. "I wouldn't want to overstep, especially with something so personal."
"Nonsense, Anthony. Come on," Charlotte raised her hand towards him. "Come on, Brother. Feel your niece or nephew while he or she is awake."
Anthony crouched down next to them and allowed his sister-in-law to grab his hand to guide him towards her belly. Benedict mentioned where their unborn baby had kicked before, and the Viscount placed his hand right over it.
"How do you know if that is really awake in there?" He questioned.
"Well, 'that' is my child, so just be patient," Charlotte chuckled at her husband's words. "And we are only speculating he or she is awake in there."
Then, Anthony gasped when he felt it, movement, something slightly hitting the back of his hand. He grinned meanwhile both Benedict and Charlotte basically squealed with joy at his reaction.
"Has Colin done this?" He chuckled. "It– It is amazing! So extraordinary."
"Perhaps tomorrow. Now it is too late," she smiled. "And poor Colin had just arrived to the city when you asked him to join the races."
"We were supposed to show a united front. All of us as a family, which I must say, I'm sure such thing left Miss Sharma quite enchanted, and Miss Edwina as well," Anthony explained. "Oh, I just remembered, Char. You and Mother have an appointment with Lord Lumley's mama, who very much seems to enjoy our afternoon tea here at Bridgerton House."
"Why?" She wined, and both men chuckled at her reaction. "Lady Lumley talks too much!"
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Buckingham House, London
"To be fair, he did not exactly have many choices," Edwina tried to defend the Viscount's intentions once again from her sister. "You forbade him to call on me."
"You think he was clever?" Kate questioned.
"No," her sister sighed. "I think– You told me Appa always said it takes a courageous man to go after what he truly wants."
"Appa also said the mark of a true gentleman is honesty," Kate stated calmly. "Something the Viscount notably lacks."
Just in time, the Queen walked out of the palace and into the gardens where the Sharmas and Lady Danbury were waiting patiently for her.
"Your Majesty," Lady Danbury addressed her while the two young women behind her made a curtsy for the Queen.
"Lady Danbury. Miss Sharma. And my diamond. This way. There is much to see," she guided them as they walked. "They are called 'zebra'. Striped horses from Africa, in fact. Seven more arrive next week. Though I can't think what to name them all. I seem to have run out of ideas."
"It is the most spectacular menagerie, Your Majesty," Lady Danbury smiled.
"Indeed it is. Miss Edwina?" The Queen turned her attention on her. "I do hope
you have been enjoying the attention you have surely been receiving as the season's diamond."
"Very much so, Ma'am. It has been an exceptional honor," Edwina said sweetly.
"It is not an easy mantle to take on, you realize. To have so many eyes upon you at all times," the Queen said, and huffed. "Well, my daughter would know all about it. Regardless of the truth, people...nay, gossips, they will contrive shameless falsehoods. Rumor can oftentimes
be a great hardship to endure. Just ask your mother, Just ask me."
"My sister aspires to learn from your illustrious example, Your Majesty," Kate smiled. "Your marriage, the wondrous love you share with the king. Edwina desires the very same."
"And she shall receive it," the Queen nodded. "Should she know who to trust."
"Lady Danbury has been steadfast guide for us this season," Kate added. "And my sister has me watching her as well."
"An inner circle, if there ever was one," the Queen smiled. "Though you must know there will be many people trying to break it apart for their own ends. When those persons inevitably reveal themselves and their rather sly intentions, I simply ask
that you tell me who they are so that I may decide if they are worthy, of course."
"Miss Sharma, perhaps you would like to take your sister to see the rest of these splendid grounds," Lady Danbury spoke.
"Yes. The cassowaries are just across the bridge," the Queen added. "But do not veer too close. They are quite irritable."
"Something tells me, Ma'am, that there are quite a few sly intentions at work here," Lady Danbury said once the two Sharma sisters walked away.
"Was I so obvious?" The Queen raised an eyebrow.
"You seek to unmask Lady WhistLedown with the help of your diamond," she said. "The writer will assuredly seek access-to her. And when she does, Her Majesty will be waiting. Is that why you chose Miss Edwina in the first place? Someone who was not present last season—"
"Meant she was someone I knew I could trust. Yes," the Queen admitted, locking her arm with her friend's. "Lady Danbury. Don't appear scandalized. You relish this frivolity nearly as much as I do."
"This season is different," she stated.
"You may wish to spoil your own fun, Lady Danbury, but you shall not ruin mine," the Queen smirked. "Let me show you where I house my elephant."
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Bridgerton House, London
"She is pompous and arrogant and quite sure she knows best in every situation," Anthony expressed his frustration to his brothers, and sister-in-law.
"She sounds like a terrible nuisance," Colin sighed and prepared to fence his brother, again.
"Especially since you are the one who knows best in every situation," Benedict stated sarcastically at his older brother.
"Watch your footwork, my dear!" Charlotte yelled towards the two fencing men.
"I am standing right here," her husband looked down at her.
"I was not talking to you," she didn't even spare him a glance as she continued to watch her brothers-in-law. "Guard your legs, Colin!"
But it was too late, since Anthony had already won the match.
"And the victor of every match today," Colin stated.
"Less talking, more fencing. Brother," Anthony nodded towards Benedict.
"Good luck," Colin muttered as he handed the Duke his épée.
"Remember to focus on your stand, Benny!" Charlotte yelled at her husband. "Fencing is all about the footwork!"
"I see you have found yourself a private teacher," the Viscount chuckled in amusement. "Let's see how well she has taught you, Brother."
"She's better than you think, Anthony," Colin admitted.
"Is she?" He questioned teasingly, making her scoff. "Not better than me, I know."
"Is that so, my lord?" She questioned loudly. "Give me an épée and I will—"
"You are not fencing!" Benedict glared at her.
"Not today! I know," she glared back at him before looking at the Viscount. "Give me a few more months and I will tumble you to the ground."
"Hardly think of such possibility, Char," Anthony smirked.
"We shall see," a smirk of her own graced her face. "Oh, I can already picture you eating grass like a calf."
"We shall see," he chuckled in disbelief. "Who taught you anyway?"
"George, of course. Fencing is his way of laying off some of the burdens that come with the Crown," she responded and looked at her husband. "His Royal Highness can tell you all about it. Right, my love?"
"You call what he does fencing?" He scoffed. "He quite literally fights you to the death."
"Like brother like sister," Colin nodded with a playful smile and Charlotte laid her head on his shoulder as she giggled.
"Wait– No," the Duke pointed at the two with his épée. "No need to be so close! There is plenty of space on that bench."
"Speaking of burdens, less talking, more fencing," Anthony stated calmly, though anyone could tell the frustration rolling off him.
"Ready?" He smirked.
Benedict attacked Anthony, who blocked his brother's move quite smoothly. He tried it again, and once again, his attack was blocked.
"Do you know why I win every time?" Anthony questioned, and attacked him.
"Because every time you lose, you claim we cheated," Benedict swished his blade at him and hit his brother's back, and Charlotte could visibly notice Anthony's frown hardening in his face.
"Because I know my duties. What my purposes are and how to obtain them," that's what the Viscount said when the Duke of Kent and Strathearn attacked him, again. "Which I will do when I make
Miss Edwina my Viscountess."
"But is Miss Edwina up to such task?" Colin asked out loud, then looked at his sister-in-law. "What do you think, Char?"
"In my perspective, Miss Edwina is looking for love, and Anthony is looking for someone to fit the role of Viscountess," she lightly sighed. "I think I've heard enough through my life that 'respect' sometimes is not enough for a marriage to work out."
Even though she spoke lowly, little does she know, the Duke of Kent and Strathearn managed to hear his wife's words and that was enough to distract him from Anthony's blow, which he felt when the blade hit his side. Benedict looked at his wife for a moment, giving her a look that made her understand that he head overheard her answer. So, she simply smiled and winked at him, mouthing the words 'I love you', and he did the same back before reading to fight his brother, again.
"Miss Edwina and I are well-suited. She is a lovely young lady," the Viscount continued as he attacked his brother, who was now teasing him with a grin on his face. "She wishes for children. She'll make a perfectly agreeable wife."
"What he means to say is that he has already dismissed every other young lady in town," Benedict chuckled.
"You take too much upon yourself, Brother," Colin spoke. "Perhaps your life might be easier if you pursued someone with a less disagreeable sister."
"Why should I be the one to admit defeat?" The Viscount glared at both his brother and sister-in-law, and turned back to fence with Benedict, but stood back and continued walking towards them. "Regardless of which young lady I have chosen to pursue, there would've always been some obstinate father or meddlesome aunt into the picture."
"Or the whole Parliament, House of Lords, the Prime Minister himself..." Benedict smirked and looked at his wife, who only giggled and shook her head at his words. "Or bloody Tommy."
"I shall certainly not let some sister, especially one younger than me, keep me from getting what it is I want," Anthony continued, stating firmly.
"Whom you want, you mean?" Benedict attacked his brother, and successfully hit him, earning brief but joyful cheers from his wife as his brother gasped in disbelief.
"Is this still a friendly match, or do we need to find some armor?" Colin smirked.
"That is what you do not understand, Brother. Benedict honors me by holding nothing back," Anthony smiled, and now both brothers prepared to fence once again. "As I now, honor him."
Two swings later, Benedict fell to the ground, Anthony cheered victoriously while Charlotte only clapped, and Colin laughed at the scene.
"What honor," Benedict took his brother's hand and stood up before he raised his eyebrows at his wife, who now stopped clapping. "You seem too happy for my loss."
"You, yourself must admit that was an awful move from your part, my love," she shrugged. "I say you could have easily blocked his blow if you had worked on your stand like I taught you."
"At least someone is on my side in some things," Anthony muttered.
"Should we have some sort of award for the winner of this match?" Charlotte smirked. "What do you think, my dear Colin?"
"I say winner gets Charlotte for—"
"No!" Benedict cut him off.
"For an entire afternoon, I meant. We all know Charlotte is excellent company," Colin chuckled, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, just to tease his brother more. "And we shall do whatever we please with her."
"I thought we were past this stage where the three of us stopped fighting over my wife," Benedict stated. "I recall, again, she is my wife."
"I had no fight in that ring, Brother," Colin smirked. "Could now not be my chance?"
"I sure would love to hear all about your adventures, my dear Colin," Charlotte said sweetly, too sweetly for her husband's taste, just to tease him. "Absolutely all of them."
"Thank you, gentlemen, and Princess, for the bracing exertion. I would very much like to stay to tease our brother some more, but I have things to do," Anthony smiled at them, hugged Benedict and kissed Charlotte's cheek in farewell before handing Colin his épée. "Now it is time for me to secure my final victory for the day. Wish me luck."
"Good luck!" The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn was the only one to wish him luck.
"Oh! Char," the Viscount turned around and winked at her. "I look forward to our afternoon together."
"I hate you all!" Benedict yelled while Anthony walked away and both Charlotte and Colin giggled. "Immensely."
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn and Eloise Bridgerton positioned themselves with poised eagerness at the zenith of the staircase, their silhouettes softly illuminated by the ambient glow. Soon, the rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, heralding the arrival of Colin Bridgerton. His presence intertwined seamlessly with that of the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton.
"I am your man for the night, Sister," Colin told his sister-in-law. "Since your dear husband insisted I look after you and never let you out of my sight."
"My husband is sweet, but overreacts too much sometimes," she chuckled lightly. "He just disagrees with me going to Balls in my condition but I'm sure a poetry reading wouldn't hurt."
"Though I'm surprised he asked me to be with you after our teasing this afternoon," Colin chuckled.
"Where is he anyway?" Eloise questioned.
"He wanted to stop by Mr. Mondrich's place, see what the fuzz was about," Charlotte explained and looked at Eloise. "Speaking of fuzz, Sister, I wanted to ask you about what you were reading the other day."
"You mean Lady Whistledown?" Colin asked.
"No," Eloise scoffed. "Something about tidying of dogs– you wouldn't understand. I read it for a much greater purpose."
"The tidying of dogs?" Colin frowned with confusion.
"Yes. Perhaps you have a friend who finds the subject interesting," Violet smiled at her son, who now was even more confused.
"Mother, are you quite well?" He asked her.
"No. No, she is not," Eloise quickly answered.
"Would you allow one of your friends to court our sister?" Charlotte wondered.
"Heavens, no," he scoffed. "I'd hire a hitman before allowing such thing."
"Colin!" Violet gasped at his choice of words while Charlotte and Eloise giggled.
"I was unaware there was a ball this evening," they heard the Viscount's voice after they descended the stairs.
"Did you not receive your invitation from the Danbury footman?" Violet asked him.
"The soiree is at the Danbury House," Anthony deduced, and sighed. "And Miss Sharma likes to accuse me of playing games."
"Can you blame her?" Violet scoffed.
"What?" Her son frowned.
"She is looking out for her sister. She hopes to find a love match. And with you, apparently so forthright in your disdain for such a thing... Perhaps Miss Edwina's other suitors plan on choosing words more wisely tonight. Some are reading poetry, I hear," Violet explained as her son scoffed. "There is a lesson here for you somewhere, Anthony. I only hope that this time you
will finally learn it."
The Viscount decided to stay quiet and look towards his sister-in-law for help, but instantly knew he wasn't going to get it since she had shaken her head and walked away with Colin and Eloise, the Dowager Viscountess soon followed, leaving Anthony Bridgerton alone to think of his next move.
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Mondrich's Club, London
Lamps were throwing chill vibes on the cobblestone streets the Duke of Kent and Strathearn suited up, ready to hit the grand opening of this swanky gentleman's club. One could practically taste his excitement for bonding and deep talks, but Benedict had this weird feeling messing with his vibe.
On the other hand, before he had decided to leave, his wife had flashed him a sweet smile, telling him to go and have fun. Even with her chill words, he still felt kind of guilty as he bailed, leaving Charlotte, with child and all, but kept in mind that Colin had promised to keep an eye on her while she joined him at the soiree at Danbury House.
"Your Royal Highness!" Will Mondrich greeted him when he walked in. "You honor me with your presence."
"The honor's all mine, Mr. Mondrich. The place looks extraordinary," Benedict praised. "Though, am I a little early?"
"The crowd will increase with time, naturally," the owner explained. "I heard a rumor that you yourself are an artist."
"Oh," the Duke half smiled. "I...dabble."
"Then, you must meet Mr. Cruikshank," he discreetly pointed at the man in the corner. "He's a talented illustrator with many connections amongst artists and patrons."
"I'm always excited to meet talented people," Benedict nodded.
"This is precisely what makes my establishment different, Bridgerton," he expressed with excitement and went to serve him a drink. "I know you and your brothers are comfortable at places like White's, but every honest man, regardless of his title, rank, or occupation, is welcome to be here."
"I must say, Mr. Mondrich, I'm quite overjoyed to see what a fine establishment you've built by the sweat of your own honest labor," he raised his glass. "Hear, hear."
Before the Duke of Kent and Strathearn could formally address Mr. Cruikshank, he tried to come up with a plan to be appreciated by him in conversation for his artistic prowess rather than his elevated status. The aroma of fine cigars and aged whiskey hung in the opulent space, where connections and conversations flowed as smoothly as the Duke's brush on his canvas.
When he does not mingle with the elite, every now and then he tries to steer conversations towards palettes and perspectives, yearning for acknowledgment as an artist first and foremost with his peers. The whispers of his new title now lingers like a distant echo, but Benedict always tries to remain steadfast in his quest to be seen beyond the gilded trappings of nobility.
"I saw that Gérard painting," he nodded. "It was a marvel."
"A vision, in fact," Mr. Cruikshank nodded too.
"So you are telling me that he, Leighton, and Turner all studied in the same academy?" Benedict asked, profoundly excited by the conversation.
"Indeed. And they have a vacancy, from what I hear," the man explained. "If you are serious about painting, I hear it is the place to be."
"It– It is a unique opportunity. Of course, I am serious," he sighed. "Though doubtful if I should since I would very much like to be considered by my art, my passion, my interests... Not my title."
"Ah, yes. How unfortunate," the man scoffed, his words sarcastically. "His Royal Highness The Duke of Kent and Strathearn. Pretty bold move, a man like yourself, marrying the King's daughter."
"Something I don't, or will ever regret," he clarified. "Though... It comes with that particularity."
"I'm just saying it takes...courage to do such a thing... And I respect it," Mr. Cruikshank nodded. "Though I wouldn't worry if I were you."
"Brother. I need you," Benedict almost frowned at the sound of his brother's voice.
"I'm in the midst of a conversation," he stated.
"Outside. Straight away," for a moment, the Duke of Kent and Strathearn stared in disbelief at the Viscount's rush, but then realized that his rush could be something about his wife, and then stood up quickly to follow him out of the club. "I need you to teach me how to read that out loud."
"Byron?" He frowned at the sight of the book. "Did I strike you much harder than I realized earlier?"
"'There is a pleasure in the pathless woods'," Anthony recited, rather monotone. "'There is a rapture on the lon–' How does one make that sound good?"
"I'm afraid that is not possible. That poem is the opposite of good," Benedict saidbas he handed the book back to his brother. "That's nonsense."
"I thought this sort of thing was supposed to be your pleasure," his brother frowned with confusion.
"Poetry, yes. Byron, heavens, no," the Duke almost chuckled.
"Is not everyone supposed to love Byron?" Anthony questioned.
"I strongly believe Charlotte would divorce me if I ever try to voice my feelings for her through Byron, and you know how my wife and her family feel about divorce," Benedict smirked. "Many in our year at Cambridge thought my poetry far superior to his."
"Does that mean yours is more or less deceitful?" Anthony asked.
"Deceitful?" Benedict raised his eyebrows. "Poetry is the opposite, Brother. It is the art of revealing precious truth with words."
"Quite right, Brother," the Viscount chuckled with amusement, until his face fell at his brother's seriousness. "You– You're being serious?"
"'What is it truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration? To delight in her beauty so much so that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To honor her being...with your deeds and words'," the Duke of Kent and Strathearn recited his own words before his brother could walk away. "That is what the true poet describes."
Anthony stood there, utterly speechless at his brother's way with words.
"You should apply yourself more often, Benedict," he praised, and thought of a new plan. "Write that down."
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Danbury House, London
In the refined ambiance of Lady Danbury's home, what commenced as a genteel poetry reading transformed into an enchanting spectacle. The distinguished gentlemen of the ton, gathered to try and mainly court the diamond of the season, Miss Edwina Sharma, and unexpectedly unleashed their hidden talents.
The men endeavored to captivate the attention of the diamond, but especially her eldest sister, who happened to have a strong word in her choosing. The air was thick with anticipation as the gentlemen, adorned in impeccably tailored eveningwear, showcased talents beyond the usual courting rituals.
Extravagant melodies from finely crafted flutes resonated through the hall, weaving intricate tunes that complemented the enchanting atmosphere. The grandeur of the evening took an unexpected turn when a few daring souls stepped forward to perform feats of magic, leaving the audience marveling at illusions that transcended the boundaries of ordinary courtship.
Side by side sat Edwina Sharma with the Queen's oldest daughter, the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn, who wanted to take this chance to get to know better the young lady her brother-in-law seems too determined to marry. Behind them, stood side by side Eloise Bridgerton and Kate Sharma.
"At least it is the men who are making fools of themselves this time," the Bridgerton girl spoke. "Was this your idea?"
"I wish I could take credit, but no," Kate smirked. "Lady Danbury encouraged a poetry reading. The men, thanks to their spirit and competition, concocted the rest
of this farce on their own."
"Of course they did," Eloise chuckled.
"You're the Viscount's sister, yes?" Kate asked her once one of the acts had ended.
"One of them. But do not hold it against me," Eloise smiled and placed a hand on Charlotte's shoulder. "If you count my lovely sister-in-law over here, then I am just one out of five."
"The fact the viscount is your relation almost makes me think better of him," Kate smiled at her.
"We should certainly not give him too much credit, now, should we?" Eloise said, both smirked at that.
As the night unfolded, the polished parquet floors reverberated with the lively rhythms of tap dancing. Each tap echoed the determination of the gentlemen to stand out in the eyes of the Sharma sisters, transcending the customary wooing methods of polite society. Meanwhile, Lady Danbury seemed in total disbelief by his extravagance.
"Yes. Yes," Lady Danbury spoke, still in speechless by some of the acts of the night. "How about a pause?"
"Oh, quite the mischievous plot brewed by our fine gentlemen. Who knew poetry readings could incite such spirited theatrics?" Charlotte said, gaining the attention of the diamond sitting next to her, who wore the biggest of smiles on her face. "I believe we are yet to be introduced with one another, Miss Edwina."
"Unnecessary, Your Royal Highness," Kate spoke. "My sister and I are deeply honored to be in your presence, and we are most grateful for your attendance this evening regardless of your condition."
"Congratulations on your wedding, and on your pregnancy, Ma'am," Edwina added. "I aspire to follow your example and marry for love."
"To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides," Charlotte expressed, both young women smiled at her words. "I can only advice that you choose your love, Miss Edwina, but more importantly, love your choice... Never regret it."
"If I may, Ma'am..." Kate trailed off. "Is the Viscount always so..."
"Whatever you are thinking of, yes, he is," she lightly chuckled. "But I vouch for him that everything he does is for a reason. He has good intentions, and an even bigger heart, Miss Sharma. I assure you."
"He certainly is not one to give up easy, I'll give him that," Kate nodded, and smiled.
"The Viscount will never give up, especially for the ones he loves," Charlotte smiled. "And certainly not for what he wants... He will not give up until he gets it...only if he truly wants it."
The competition of talents added an unexpected layer of charm to the courtship proceedings, turning the event into a captivating display of skill and sophistication. In this refined dance of courtly arts, the gentlemen of the ton ventured beyond the confines of convention, leaving an indelible mark on the memories of all young ladies of the ton.
"Gentlemen, thank you all for the most splendid display of your talents this evening," Lady Danbury stood in the middle of the room. "A memorable occasion, to be sure."
"Pardon me, Lady Danbury?" Just in time, the Viscount had walked in the room.
"Uh, Lord Bridgerton, I did not expect you," she raised an eyebrow at him, for being so late.
"No, I seem to have fallen off the guest list," he lightly glared in Kate's direction before continuing. "Though you'd never deny a young man you've known for 29 years the pleasure of your company? And neither would your footman at the front door."
"Apologies, Viscount. You appear to be late again," Kate stated. "We were bringing the evening to a conclusion—"
"Surely Miss Edwina has time for one more," Anthony insisted. "I spent all evening crafting something. An original. Would you like to hear it? Would everyone like to hear it?"
Everyone around cheered for the Viscount Bridgerton, truly curious for his original creativity. Meanwhile, the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn sat there, confused, since she knew poetry wasn't exactly his forte, let alone the ability to craft an original so suddenly and so quickly.
"What is it...truly to admire a woman? To look at her and feel inspiration? To delight in her beauty so much so that all your defenses crumble, that you would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her. To hon...'," the Viscount looked in Miss Sharma's direction first, then towards his mother and Lady Danbury, who could not help but notice his struggle. Finally, his eyes landed on the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn, who had a sad smile on her face. Immediately, he turned the small paper he had in his hands into a ball, and threw it at the fireplace. "My apologies. I cannot do this. I cannot claim these words as my own. They are someone else's entirely."
Just in the way Anthony looked at Charlotte, deep down she sensed her husband's involvement. After all, of all people, she was quite aware of his way with words.
"Truth be told, I'm not– I'm not a man of poetry. Words of flattery are beautiful and sweet but they are also hollow unless accompanied by action," he took a small step forward. "Miss Edwina, I could stand here and pretend to be someone I am not. I could pretend to want the very same things as you, but I'd be lying. I may not be able to...offer you a display of passion that you truly deserve. But I assure you that when it comes to action and duty... I shall never be found lacking. And I hope that is what will speak louder than any pretty words ever can."
Everyone stood there, speechless by his words. Some slightly clapped, others murmured their reaction and impression. Charlotte, on the other hand, just sat there in silence, jokingly questioning if she has chosen the right Bridgerton to marry. She couldn't wait to go home and tell her husband how proud she was of Anthony, who realized he would not get away with what he wanted playing pretend.
"Dear sister," Colin walked to her side, and offered her a hand when he noticed she wanted to stand up, which she gladly took. "Did you choose the right brother?"
"Never thought I would be having doubts at this stage," she lightly chuckled. "I am joking, of course."
"That was certainly something," Colin added. "Never thought he had it in him, honestly."
"Well, what else is there to say?" Charlotte smiled. "I believe this season will be full of surprises."
"Speaking of surprises," he glanced down at her belly. "My apologies for not being paying much attention to you since we've arrived. Have you been feeling alright?"
"There is a little discomfort every now and then, but nothing I can't tolerate," she squeezed her hand in reassurance. "Now, come. I wish to know your mother's reaction to his speech."
There are two things that lurk within the dark and shadowy places of our fair city.
Vermin and secrets.
I shall leave it to you, dear reader, as to which do the most harm.
One has to wonder what secrets the season's diamond is holding near and dear to her heart. And who shall she choose to share them with?
The Viscount Bridgerton, perhaps?
At least the elder Sharma's opinion on such a matter is certainly no secret at all.
"I see you staring at the Viscount. You have done so for quite some time," Cressida Cowper smirked with triumph at the sight of an uncomfortable Kate Sharma. "Never thought anyone would want to protect one's unmarried sister from London's most eligible bachelor. Especially Lord Bridgerton."
"Do you know if the Viscount Bridgerton ever had someone?" Kate suddenly asked her. "If he has ever tried to court anyone in previous years?"
"Yes," she nodded, and looked in the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn's direction. Kate followed her gaze, and her face softened in realization. "Her."
"Her Royal Highness?" She frowned. "How would you know?"
"It was quite obvious, honestly," Cressida chuckled softly. "She has his heart right in the palm of her hand."
"Has?" Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You mean... Does she still..."
"I wouldn't know. Though, last year it was quite obvious to some how hard it was for the Viscount to keep his hands to himself..." The woman spoke with a smirk on her face. "I'm sure you know what I mean."
"I– I don't," Kate sighed. "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh! Were you interested on the Viscount? Oh, you poor thing," Kate turned to look at Cressida as she spoke with a smirk on her face. "Try to be above Her Royal Highness and you might have a chance of him spearing you a glance."
Kate turned and look at the Viscount, who was casually talking to the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn in that very moment, along with Edwina, his brother, Colin, and his mother, the Dowager Viscountess. The Viscount had a genuine smile on his face, a smile she hasn't seen just yet. Now, it made her wonder, was he smiling at his brother? At a simple conversation? Or at Her Royal Highness?
"It is a shame she chose his brother. I think the Viscount would have been a far better option for her," Cressida added and looked at Kate with a sense of authority. "I hope you were not interested in him. No one can be above Her Royal Highness. Not even me, tragically. Still, of all ladies, I am the closest. Still, we shall see if our season's diamond shines bright enough and manages to secure him. But just like all young ladies in every social season... You are welcome to try...and miserably fail."
As much as Kate Sharma tried to compose herself after Miss Cowper's words, she couldn't help but feel quite unease by what she had just learned. During her research, she did know that the Princess Royal, now the Duchess of Kent and Strathearn, had married a man of noble birth, but never realized such backstory. Her blood boiled at the thought. She felt repulsed with herself by the jealousy she felt.
To be fair, one might call this author the biggest secret-sharer of all. For who else could possibly keep all of you honest? When even the most well-kept of secrets must eventually come to light.
Author's Notes: Hello, dear readers! I've missed you all.
A long chapter after a long wait, it was only right.
Colin is back! And the drama between Charlotte and Anthony's courtship has officially begun.
I do not believe you are expecting what is to come, but hopefully, it will be good.
As always, thank you for all your comments and your votes.
Until next chapter!❤️