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Chapter Text

Daphne sat on her bed, staring at the white rose Simon had given her only the day before. The day had started off so well. She had felt so confident. After finishing her latest composition on the pianoforte, she had resolved to try and truly have Simon court her. He had said he would never wed, but as her mother had said, many men made such declarations. She had been so happy to see him standing there.

And then her heart had been shattered.

What could have possibly changed? She knew she had not imagined their connection, the comfort and ease they had shared. So why had he been so cruel?

“Ugh!” She hurled the rose away from her, horrified at the new agony the delicate petals now caused her. Yesterday then had been a source of joy, of….

Pleasure.

Now, she never wanted to look at another flower ever again.

She lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, recalling the words he had spoken.

“… a young lady barely out of her leading strings…. a diversion…”

He knew what he was doing, she realized. He had chosen the words that would hurt her the most.

And he could not have chosen better, she thought.

Why? He said they had accomplished their goals, that she had the attentions of the Prince…

But it was not the Prince’s attentions she desired.

It was like she had been struck, as if the knowledge had been slammed into her. She did not want the Prince, she wanted Simon. She wanted the easy conversation, the calm friendship, the lack of pressure to be as perfect as society expected. She wanted his playful yet intense gaze to follow her about a room, she wanted the intriguing flirtations, the ones that inspired her curiosity.

She wanted his love.

His love? What!?

And there was no reason to desire his love unless she was in love with him herself.

“Well, this is terribly inconvenient!” She cried as she stood. She needed to move, she needed to pace. It was terribly inappropriate for a lady, but she was alone, and if she didn’t move, she might dissolve into tears again.

This was meant to be a ruse, they were not supposed to love each other, they were using each other! She had known after last night that she felt more than she should. She had woken with a new understanding of their relationship, she had wanted to explore it further. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of why.

What could she do now? Simon had ended their ruse, had ended their relationship. She could not go and see him herself! What was she to do?!

“Daphne, we must be going, we have an appointment with Madame Delacroix.”

Her mother’s voice from outside the door reminded her that there would be consequences to faking the attachment, likely ones she hadn’t even thought of.

She stared at her reflection, trying to come to grips with…. being in love. She had no idea what else could explain her behaviour, her heart’s giddy reaction to seeing him,

Her heartbreak at what he had done.

His words had cut her to the core, as he had likely known they would.
But why?

They had agreed that their time together was temporary, that their ruse would have an endpoint, but it was supposed to be once she had identified her potential husband, when she had made a decision, and she had not decided anything, he had made that decision for her, that the Prince was ‘perfect' for her.

She could decide what was perfect for herself!

“Daphne, is everything alright? You look quite upset,” her mother noted.

Daphne tried to school her features into a neutral mask, “I am perfectly well, Mama, merely anxious about tonight,”

Tonight, she needed to have gained control of herself by the time she saw him tonight. He had clearly chosen his words to drive her away, even a blind man would have been able to see that Simon wanted to push her away. Rather than simply ending their ruse, he had wanted to sever all connection between them. He had been uncomfortable, unhappy, though she had no idea why. Even in a false courtship he still had so the greater share of power.

Why had he done it? Why had he ended it, and why had he chose to hurt her?

She couldn’t force the issue, couldn’t call on him,

“Ah, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Lady Cowper”

Perhaps she might be able to speak to Lady Danbury, she had helped raise the Duke, Daphne knew. She might have some insight as to his intentions. She wouldn’t know about the ruse, but she might know why he had chosen now to end it. Maybe…

“I must say, it is a good thing Daphne is so taken with the Duke. Cressida would never have a hope with the Prince if Daphne went for him. We all know my darling might have the fortune, but it is your Daphne that has the face.”

What an odd thing to say. Was Lady Cowper trying to bait her? Surely she would want all potential rivals of Cressida’s out of the way, why suggest that Daphne could have him?

She could have him. She knew exactly what to do, how to speak, how to move, to draw his attention. He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of her.

Simon would have no idea what hit him.

Chapter Text

She had told her heart to stop pounding nine times already, but it seemed useless. She was nervous. Very nervous.

She had never attempted to seduce anyone, and she had rarely tried to be anything other than herself with Simon. She had enjoyed teasing with him, but that was part of their normal exchange. An exchange she very much doubted he would participate in tonight.

And it had to be tonight. She had to lay the foundation and spring the trap all in one night. She had to…

What did she even want as the final outcome? She loved him. Over the course of the last few hours, she had accepted the truth of that. But did she want him? If he stood by his words, and truly saw her as nothing more than a diversion, then she did not want to trap him, and herself, in a marriage of unequal affection. It would make them both miserable.

But if he was merely trying to give her the best match possible, if, in some twisted part of his mind, he thought he knew what was best for her…

And it would not be the first time. He had told Anthony about Berbrooke after all, and men did tend to think they knew best, though for the life of her she had yet to understand why!

If Simon thought he was aiding her in her quest for a husband then perhaps they had a chance.

She still wasn’t sure why he had been so cruel. It would have been just as easy to simply suggest that the Prince was her best option, and could have been done without hurting her so. But perhaps he had known she would object, that she was not interested in the Prince. But if so, why push her?

Men! They were infuriating creatures!! And Simon was one of the easier ones to talk to!

“And how would you like your hair, Miss?” Rose’s question drew her back to her room.

She thought for a minute. She wasn’t trying to impress the ton or any other man, her only thought was on drawing Simon’s eye. And holding it.

“I think just the way you like, Rose, with the lovely circlet of flowers and jewels, “ she said.

“You’ll look lovely, Miss,” Rose said.

Daphne hoped so.

Agatha Danbury knew something was wrong. The Duke had been quiet and reserved all evening. Much more so than usual. At first, she had thought he was missing Miss Bridgerton, who had yet to arrive. But she now suspected that something was dreadfully wrong.

“You have been reserved all evening,” she prodded, hoping he would be willing to explain himself.

Instead, he dashed her hopes. “I have decided to leave England earlier than anticipated,” he said. “Apologies, Lady Danbury, but I believe it is time for me to go,” his tone making it clear that he was resolved.

Damn. Something clearly had happened. She could only think that it must have been related to Miss Bridgerton. Had they quarrelled? Was he simply being stubborn? The latter would prove the most difficult to overcome.

“Foolish,” she muttered, knowing he would hear, and hoping he would learn, but knowing he would ignore her.

She had been so pleased to see him in London, taking part in the Season, promenading with Miss Bridgerton, smiling and teasing with her as well. She could not recall seeing him so free and at ease. He had seemed to come alive with the young lady, and It had please her old soul to see it. She was not about to let him destroy his own happiness out of any of the self-destructive behaviour he was known for. He was as a son to her, and if he needed a push from her then she was pleased to provide it.

The assembled crowds attention being drawn to the grand staircase drew her own as well. At the top of the stairs, Miss Bridgerton and her mother had just entered the room. Miss Bridgerton was a vision, her blue and white dress was lovely, and there was something in her shoulders, or perhaps her face, a confidence that Lady Danbury had never seen before. And Daphne Bridgerton was not a shy or self-conscious girl. The woman who was coming down the stairs had captivated the entire room. She had drawn every single eye. Including Agatha’s godson. He had not taken his eyes off of her, and more importantly, Miss Bridgerton had not taken hers off of him either. As she descended the stairs, the Prince had made his way toward her, but she seemed not to notice, making her way past him, straight towards Agatha and the Duke.

Agatha watched Miss Briderton as she approached, and realized that something must have happened between them. For all the confidence Miss Bridgerton was exuding, Agatha could see she was nervous. Something in her eyes. Between her unusual behaviour and the anxious look in her eye, Lady Danbury could tell, Daphne Bridgerton was a woman on a mission, and it seemed that mission had something to do with her godson.

“Good evening, Lady Danbury, Your Grace,” the Debutante smiled, as she curtsied.

Agatha returned her smile, “Good evening Miss Bridgerton, Lady Violet. We are so glad to see you, are we not, Your Grace?”

The Duke had still not taken his gaze off of Miss Bridgerton yet and had been looking at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. The address seemed to draw him back to the ballroom, and his eyes immediately shuttered, and he stiffened his back as well as if he was going into battle. Well, in this instance, Agatha had no objection to doing battle with her godson, especially on his own behalf. 

When her mother had asked her if she was feeling well, Daphne had said she felt exceptionally well, but the truth was that she wasn't sure how she felt. She was nervous of course, this was entirely new territory for her, but she was also excited. It was similar to the excitement she felt every time she encountered the Duke. Close, in fact, to the shiver she had felt along her spine when he had described nightly.... activities. Even now she shivered, remembering the look in his eyes, the bob of his throat as he whispered to her. 

Focus! She shook herself off and walked out onto the stair landing and paused. She knew she had drawn almost every eye in the room, but it was only the Duke's eyes she waned. And she had them. He was staring at her, his eyes wide, his lips parted. He looked so beautiful. For all the hurt she had been through and was still experiencing, she was so happy to see him now. 

She walked down the stairs and made her way toward the Duke and Lady Danbury.

She took her eyes off Simon for the first time as she curtsied, "Good evening Your Grace, Lady Danbury."

The sharp eyes of Simon's godmother were searching her, and she began to wonder if Lady Danbury might not be the ally she had hoped for. Then the Lady smiled, "Good evening Miss Bridgerton, Lady Violet. We are so glad to see you, are we not, Your Grace?"

Daphne's eyes flew back to Simon, watching as he blinked, and his eyes, and it seemed, his soul pulled back from her. It was upsetting to see him withdraw from her in such a manner, but she would not let it dissuade her. 

As her mother began a conversation with Lady Danbury, Daphne took the opportunity to move closer to Simon so they could speak privately. Despite his withdrawal, his eyes remained fixed upon her. 

"It was a shame you had to leave so quickly this morning. I was very much looking forward to our engagement today," she began.

He swallowed before responding, “I have made clear my intentions, Miss Bridgerton. You have much better prospects, and I have been able to finish my business and expedite my departure from town" his tone was that same distant and unaffected one he had used that morning. She could feel her smile begin to fall. It was clear that he was determined to maintain the distance he had established, but it was disheartening to see how dedicated he was. She had harboured a hope that once he saw her persistence he would open himself up and speak to her. 

Before she could think of a response, she felt a presence behind her. Turning, she saw the Prince had approached their party with an opening and charming smile upon his face. "Miss Bridgerton, it is wonderful to see you, I must say, you look absolutely lovely this evening," he took her hand and bowed over it. 

"Thank you, Your Highness," Daphne thought a small smile would be best, nothing to give any hope to his clear ambitions.

The Prince's eyes flashed to the Duke, then back to her before asking "Might I have the honour of this next dance, Miss Bridgerton?"

Daphne froze. Her eyes followed the same path to the Duke that the Prince's had just taken, hoping to see some indication of his thoughts. Unfortunately, his eyes remained blank, and he was looking at neither of them, but instead toward the door, as if he was hoping to leave as soon as possible. 

He was going to be no help in this instance. He had said she should turn her attentions to the Prince, so he expected her to dance with him. Well, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"I am afraid I must decline your gracious offer, Your Highness. I am not dancing this evening," she hoped the smile still on her face would take away the sting of rejection without giving him any hope.

Fortunately, the Prince's eyes remained kind and open and his smile remained as he accepted her answer, before wishing her, and the Duke, a good evening and withdrawing. Daphne sighed as he walked away, grateful that she had survived that exchange. 

“The Prince can give you everything you want. He can make you happy. You should not push him away,” the Duke's voice recalled to her to the exchange that she hoped would go in her favour. 

His words, however, reminded her of one of the main reasons she was so upset with him, “You should not push me toward the Prince. I told you before, this is not about the ‘best match’ this is about my life, and I will decide who I marry and what I need to be happy. The Prince is not what I need or want," she knew her smile had turned into a frown, but he absolutely deserved her ire. The choice of who to wed was one of the only choices she would ever get in life, and it was absolutely one of the most important choices as well and it was hers to make.

She could see his mask fall away and surprise suffuse his face. And, was that hope in the corner of his eyes? He swallowed once, twice, and his eyes drifted down from hers. To her lips? His mouth moved, but no sound came out. His eyes snapped back to her, a strange look infusing them. Fear? What in the world could he be afraid of? He is so frustrating! she thought to herself. 

"Simon, I want to..."

"Please excuse me, Miss Bridgerton," He bowed to her and quickly made his way past her, toward the door, and out of the hall. 

Daphne knew there was no way she could hide the anguish and embarrassment that she felt, so she carefully kept her face away from the crowd, toward the wall, hoping the tears she could feel threatening to burst would stay tucked away. She heard the sound of a cane approaching and drew a deep breath before turning to greet Lady Danbury. 

The Lady had a very peculiar look on her face, "I'm not sure what he's done, but I hope you won't be too hard on him, my dear. He can be remarkably stubborn, and not a little dense. Whatever happened, it is as clear as day that he cares very much for you."

Daphne's answering smile was small but entirely genuine, "I do hope so, My Lady. And as to his Grace's stubborn nature, well, I intend to outdo him there. Hopefully, he will not take too long to see things my way." It gave Daphne a great deal of pleasure to see the wide smile on the Lady's face.

The Lady leaned in close to her, "Well done, my dear. I have no doubt you will win him round to your cause."

She had known that her mother and Lady Danbury were ardent supporters of her 'courtship' with Simon, but it was a great boost to her confidence to see his godmother supporting her. Simon wanted to end their ruse, end their friendship, end everything they had. It was clear to her now that the daft man thought he was doing this for her own benefit. There was some truth to the fact that, as far as rank was concerned, she could do no better than a Prince. But he had forgotten that it was her choice to make. Simon was her choice. If she was not his, then she would wish him well and mourn the loss alone, but if he was simply being stubborn, self-sacrificing, and proud, well, she was not going to allow that. And clearly, Lady Danbury was not going to allow it either.

Daphne realized that, with Simon having left, and having already declared that she would not be dancing, there was little point of remaining, "Lady Danbury, I hope you will excuse me, I believe it is time I find my mother and return home for the evening."

Lady Danbury reached out and grasped her hand. The older Lady's grasp on was firm and comforting. "A wise decision. Miss Bridgerton, would you be willing to come round for tea tomorrow at Danbury House? I believe you and I have much to discuss. I might even be able to persuade a certain godson of mine to join us as well," the Lady smiled wider. 

Daphne could have thrown her arms around the woman and laughed out loud. Not only support but an active ally! She had trouble containing the glee in her voice, "I would be honoured, Lady Danbury."

Lady Danbury nodded her head, squeezed her hand once more, and withdrew, allowing Daphne to find her mother. 

The night may not have ended as she had hoped, but she felt such excitement for her mission of seducing her Duke.

No, she was not going to seduce him, she was going to win him.

Chapter Text

Hastings House was quiet the next day. Most of the household staff suspected that His Grace was taking advantage of his station and sleeping in. They could not know that, after having dismissed his valet, The Duke of Hastings had stood at his window and had stayed there the whole night, staring out into the darkness as it gave way to light. The evening had not gone at all the way he had expected.

After leaving Daph…. Miss Bridgerton at Gunter’s Tea Shop, he had resigned himself to never seeing her again. Surely his cruel words would prevent her from seeking him out, even if she and the Prince did not match. Though how could they not? It was a thought that had nagged at his brain, eating away at him, distracting him from all other responsibilities. The Prince was perfect for her. He was polite, kind, handsome, sociable, and he was a Prince, what more could a lady ask for? What more could Simon possibly offer? The deal had been that he would help her find a husband, and she would protect him from the marriage-minded mothers of the Ton. He had a responsibility to her, he had a duty, and besides all that, she deserved the best.

He had not wanted to hurt her. If he could have kept her close forever, he would have, but as a future Princess, she should not associate with a rake of his reputation. He had needed to make a clean break so that she could clear her head of him. He had seen, as he stared into her eyes, whispering the secrets of pleasure to her, that she was as affected as he, that he had infected her mind and perhaps her heart. A clean break would purge him from her heart, and allow her to make a new start with her Prince. It had been necessary. Not that it made him feel any better. He had tried not to imagine her in his life, but in so short a time, she had become a constant, and he dreaded the day that would end. So he had ended it himself, to save them both from the inevitable agony of separation.

But she had surprised him. She had walked right by the Prince as if he did not exist, she had come directly to him. She had dismissed the Prince as if he was not the best match she could possibly make.         

God in Heaven, she had looked so beautiful! From her gown, in Bridgerton Blue, to her piercing gaze that both aroused his soul and his body, to her confidence as she refused the Prince. Daphne Bridgerton had never lacked confidence, had never seemed to struggle to speak her mind, practically ordering him about, directing him to gift her flowers, her practical insistence that he explain relations between husband and wife. Even her reluctance to reveal Berbrooke’s action to her brother was due to practicality and an understanding of Berbrooke’s and her brother’s characters. Despite it all, last night she had sparkled, glowed, as she descended the stairs, staring him down the entire time. He had been torn between doing the honorable thing and running as far from her as he could, and what the entirety of his being had demanded, and dragging her from the room to the nearest victor to wed them before dragging her to his bed. Fighting the two had immobilized him and he had struggled to do much of anything. And then she had shattered him.

“The Prince is not what I need or want.”

But, could he be what she wanted? Could she come to need him as desperately as he needed her?

The knock at the door stopped that ridiculous thought from continuing on.

“Enter,” he called. The door opened to reveal Jeffries.

“Lady Danbury has sent a note, Your Grace. Her footman has been instructed to wait for an answer.” The butler's succinct tone subtly suggested he also wanted Simon to be about business, and not waste the whole day away.

Simon resisted the urge to roll his eyes and rose to retrieve the note Jefferies was holding out to him. He opened it and read it quickly, cursing his Godmothers ability to predict him so well. She was inviting him for tea at Danbury house that afternoon and not so subtly hinted that there would be consequences to his absence.  He could not resist rolling his eyes at her jab about his potential sobriety. She knew he wasn’t given to excessive drink, only when the occasion called for it. And the stress and anxiety of the past 24 hours had certainly called for it.

But Lady Danbury had asked him to be there, and so there he would be.

He turned to Jeffries, “Please tell the footman that I will come to Danbury House directly.” He hoped she wouldn’t subject him to too much questioning.

Simon dismounted and handed his horse off to a groom who was ready and waiting for him. He nodded to the man as headed in, handing his gloves to the footman at the door. Lady Danbury’s butler guided him to the conservatory, where his godmother was waiting for him. She made no effort to rise as he came in. He had extracted that agreement from her several years ago when her knees began to weaken, that she would make no formal efforts unless in public so as not to harm her knees further.

She raised her head and smiled at him, that classic smile that told him she was plotting something, “Good afternoon, Your Grace. I’m glad you could make it today,” Her smile widened as he bowed over her hand and took a seat across from her.

Had he been paying attention, he might have questioned the presence of two other chairs at the table.

“Good afternoon, Lady Danbury. I hope you are well,” he hoped that if he kept the conversation fairly bland, he would be able to redirect her or distract her plans.

“I’m doing very well, especially after last night. Miss Bridgerton has proved to be far more clever than I at first realized. My confidence in her success as Duchess of Hastings has increased dramatically.”

Well, that hadn’t worked.

Simon sighed. His plans to leave in the next few days were still in place and he needed to make sure Lady Danbury, as well as Daphne, understood that.

“Lady Danbury,”

The entrance of the butler interrupted him. He was escorting two women, and Simon struggled to his feet as his mind realized she was here. “Lady Violet Bridgerton and Miss Daphne Bridgerton,” the announcement seemed to echo through him.

She entered the room behind her mother. Her expression at first seemed anxious, but when her eyes landed on him, the joy that took over her face was unlike anything he had ever seen before. She looked like all of her wishes had been granted at that moment. It was the most beautiful she had ever been, and her smile was one that he wanted to keep on her face for the rest of time. And it would be an honour to be the one to put that smile there. 

Lady Bridgerton reached him first, "Your Grace, we are so glad to see you today."

The smile on his face was genuine, though he struggled to take his eyes off of Daphne, "I am glad to see you as well, My Lady. I am sorry we were not able to speak last night."

As was usual with mothers, his smile charmed her thoroughly. As she turned to greet his godmother, he turned to greet her daughter. 

He wasn't prepared, nothing could have prepared him. She approached him and took his arm as if it were any other day and they were about to promenade through the park. The glorious smile had not left her face and she beamed up at him. "Hello, Your Grace. I am very glad to see you here. Lady Danbury said you might be, but I confess I was nervous that you might have other duties to attend to," her voice held a breathy and excited tone. 

She was happy to see him. She wanted to see him. 

He could barely think to get words out, "Miss Bridgerton, I hope you are well today."

It was not the most eloquent speech he had ever made, but it seemed to be enough for her. 

She turned, without releasing his arm, to greet Lady Danbury, who made one in kind. Simon thought it best to seat Daph... Miss Bridgerton! away from him, though it would be difficult to avoid looking at her. Just as he was about to lead her to the seat next to Lady Danbury, the conniving women spoke up, "Your Grace, why don't you take Miss Bridgerton out on the terrace and show her the gardens. There have been some lovely blooms emerging in the past few days."

There was no question what the Lady intended. All four of them knew the purpose was to give Simon and Daphne time alone to talk. and unfortunately, in such an intimate company, there was no way to refuse. 

Not that Daphne gave him much time to try to think of a way out. Her grip on his arm tightened and she began to lead him out herself. As they walked away from their chaperones, Simon tried to think of what to say, and more importantly, how to say it. His idea of a clean-break had not worked, clearly.  Her lack of interest in the Prince last night was not likely to have changed and he did not have the heart to be so cruel in his words once again. But he had made her a promise. She needed to wed, she wanted a family of her own, and he would help her find it. 

But how could he do that when he wanted to be part of that family, when he wanted to help build that family alongside her?

As they reached the terrace, Daphne spoke, "I do believe Lady Danbury might even be able to get the Queen to follow her instructions, should she put her mind to it. I have never seen anyone refuse her outright," her bright smile was still in place.

He could not stop his answering smile, "Nor have I, and I have known her much longer."

Daphne chuckled, then turned away from him, her smile beginning to dim. When she looked back, her expression was nothing short of determined.

As he tried to think of a direction for their conversation, Daphne beat him to it. "I am glad she gave us this time because I want to speak to you. Yesterday, you tried to end our ruse and more importantly our friendship. I want to understand why. I do not believe that you were simply done with me. Was I wrong?" her tone made it clear that she would accept nothing but the truth.

It is never a good feeling to be called out in a lie. The sense of failure, that someone managed to see through you, combined with the guilt of having done wrong, as well as the panic of scrambling to either explain or double down on your lie creates an uncomfortable melding of feelings and emotions. And Simon Bassett did not do well with any of these feelings.

"M..Mi..Miss Bri..Bridgerton I..I...I.." his tongue felt like lead in his mouth, and he knew he was panicking. He hated when this happened. He hated himself for not mastering his own speech, he hated his father for... so many reasons, he hated God and life for making him like this. And that hate fed into the cycle.

Daphne's face seemed to soften. Kindness and tenderness infused her eyes. No, she could not know, could she? How could she have?

"I do not mean to call you out, but I wish to understand. Simon, did you attempt to end our... association because you are truly done with me and wish nothing more to do with me, or did you do it to drive me into the arms of the Prince? I deserve the truth of this at least, do I not?" her plaintive tone distracted him from his spiral of anger.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, "Of course you deserve the truth, you deserve that and more. And the answer is yes, I thought the best course for you would for you to allow the Prince's attentions. There is no better match for you. I am sorry I was so cruel. I have no explanation or excuse for that. It seemed the best way to ensure that you turned your focus toward him."

Daphne had held his eyes throughout his speech but now looked away, out into the gardens. "You were trying to do what you thought was best for me?" came the same plaintive tone again. 

He nodded, "Yes."

She was silent again as her gaze remained steadily away from him. When she turned back, however, there was a fire in her eyes, "And do you not think I am perfectly capable of deciding such things for myself?" there was a fire in her voice as well. 

Simon had the distinct feeling he was walking on very thin ice at that moment. He knew that the wrong answer could have unfortunate consequences, "Y..Yes, you are capable, but Daphne..."

"If I wanted the Prince I could have had him. He made his intentions clear at Somerset House before I came and found you. He sought me out and complimented my beauty. Having him as a suitor and husband would have been the work of five minutes if I wanted him. But I do not want him. And having made that choice, I expect the world to accept that. And that includes my friend. Or was that part true, and we were never friends?" her nostrils flared as she breathed.

Her chest heaved as well, and he thought that as beautiful as her joy had been, her anger, passionate and burning, was glorious too.

But he drew himself back to the conversation, "I am sorry I said, that. And sorry that I hurt you. Daphne, I am not the kind of man a lady like you should be friends with. And surely you must know that our friendship would have to end once you wed. No husband would stand for a man like me remaining so close to his wife," he knew he would never approve of such a connection. If Daphne were his wife, he would never allow another man near her, for fear she would find a better man to love. 

But she will not be your wife, and so it must end.

The agony in his soul at that thought nearly crippled him. He could feel the pain reflected on his face as he frowned.

"I would never love a man who would try to control me in such a way, and so would never wed such a man," the confidence and assuredness with which she said that was almost enough to convince him it was true. 

She stared at him, and he tried to formulate a response. After a moment, she sighed and drew herself up, head high and shoulders back, as if going to battle. Then she spoke, "Simon, the choice of who I marry and who I give my heart to are the most important choices I will ever make. I am choosing who to spend my life with. I told you before that I needed to take charge of my life. So here is that choice. I choose you."

He stared, unblinking. She chose him? But... he was no choice at all! She deserved the sun and the moon, the heavens and all the treasures of the Earth! As he tried to get his mouth to work, she spoke again,

"I love you."

Chapter Text

Dearest Gentle Reader,

A sight like no other! Though it would surprise no one to see Miss Daphne Bridgerton on the arm of her Duke, I do not believe anyone has ever turned down the opportunity to dance with a Prince. His Highness was seen and heard requesting a dance from the Diamond, to which she declined. She did not even claim an injury to allow him to save face! It seems clear, to this author at any rate, that there must finally be an engagement between Miss Bridgerton and the Duke of Hastings. Why they are keeping it secret, one can only imagine. But rest assured dear reader, I shall ensure the reason is brought to light!

Lady Violet flung down the paper she had been reading, “That woman’s intrusion is going to ruin everything! I cannot imagine what has gone wrong between those two, but if His Grace is like any other man, if he feels penned in, he will attempt to flee!”

Violet Bridgerton had begun pacing almost from the moment her daughter had walked out with the Duke and had become even more agitated when she had spotted the latest copy of Whistledown on the table. 

Lady Danbury turned to her co-conspirator, " They will sort themselves out, Lady Bridgerton. Simon is not one to shrink from a challenge, and neither is your Daphne. I'm not sure what has happened, but your daughter is clearly determined to steer their course, and I think she will do a wonderful job of it. They only need time and space to work themselves out. I'm sure we will be out escorting them soon."

Lady Violet looked out toward the terrace where the two had disappeared to, her hand on her heart, hoping that Lady Danbury was correct.

Simon blinked.

He said nothing.

He blinked again.

Daphne began to fiddle with her hands and fingers. She hadn’t felt nervous when she was speaking, but as the silence stretched on, she wondered if she had been mistaken somewhere along the way. But she was too far along to back away now.

“I love you. You don’t expect me to be anything other than what I am. You encourage my humor, you allow me an outlet for my dissatisfaction for the societal expectations that I must meet.” She continued to fiddle with her fingers, and she was aware that she was speaking faster the longer she talked.

“You make me smile, I can’t help but smile whenever I see you. My heart beats faster, and I spend every moment we are separated eagerly awaiting our reunion. Your voice soothes me.”

Simon took her hand. She stopped speaking and hoped.

For his part, Simon couldn’t think of what to say. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to sweep her into his arms and never let her leave.

But he was terrified to open his mouth for fear that he might stammer, or worse, he might confess his own desire for her, and trap her to him. She deserved better, more than he could provide. If not a Prince, then a man who could give her the family and the home she so craved.

She deserved better than the man who had corrupted her.

In his continued silence, Daphne had begun speaking again, “I want you. And when you rejected me, when you said we had never been friends, I was heartbroken. But I know you Simon, for all of your posturing and your rakish ways, you are not cruel. You wouldn’t have treated an animal with such cruelty. And there is no explanation for such behavior, except that you wanted to push me away.”

Simon flinched. She had him there. Of course, he was trying to drive her away. She had been growing attached to him. And now she thought herself in love with him.

Daphne continued, “So I had to know the truth. If I am to take charge of my life, I must begin by declaring what I want. I said before that I wanted to find a husband and have a family. But those are the desires I have been expected to have all my life. What I, Daphne, not the Diamond of the Season, not the Bridgerton Debutante, just me, Daphne, want is you.”

Simon felt he might weep. Everything he wanted was being offered to him, but he knew he would be the worst sort of villain to accept it. Daphne could not know how deep in darkness his soul was, how much she herself would be stained as well.

She said she wanted him, that he was enough, but in time she would come to resent him, would come to regret all she had said.

At last, Simon finally began to speak “You say you have cast aside the desire you held before, but you should not. Family and laughter and joy, the home you have known all your life; you deserve all of these. Daphne, I regard you too highly, and hold you too dear to condemn you to a life with me.”

Condemn? Did he not realize the absolute bliss and pleasure such thoughts, and dreams, gave her? That to spend her life with him, come hell or high water, was what she desired most? How could he possibly view himself as such a punishment?

She could feel tears coming at the thought of him so alone in his pain. Whatever the cause she wanted nothing more than to stand by him, to take or share his burden.

“Simon,” his name was a breath, “I know you said you would never wed, and I know you do not love me, but please, I know you care for me, and all I ask is a courtship. A true one. A chance for us, please.” She knew she was near to begging, but it was at this moment that she realized she had no bargaining power. If he did not love her, then why on earth would he agree to a true courtship, and the inevitable conclusion of such? Care for her, friendship and affection, would not be enough to drive him to the alter when he had sworn off marriage altogether. Her only hope was time. That whatever affection there was, he would see that she was true in hers and sought no one else. And that time might open his heart further to her, and he might love her as deeply as she loved him.

Simon kept his head down and his eyes closed. He wanted it. He wanted it all! And she was offering! Would it be so bad, so heinous to accept?

She deserves better!

But perhaps this was how to do it. Even in their false courtship, they had maintained a distance, a façade for each other. Their conversations, though more open and less guarded than was usual, or appropriate, for a normal courting couple had always been superfluous. They had never discussed issues of any importance. His travels and her desires for a family had made up the bulk, supplemented with small commentaries on the absurdities of society. When she was not courting, or playing at it, what did she enjoy doing? Did she prefer the city or the country? He thought the country, but he could not be certain? She had been at Summerset House, but did she enjoy art? Did she paint herself? She had called boxing an absurdity, but he had no doubt she would enjoy the activity herself given if the chance, and he had to stop that thought before it let to images of her half-dressed with him in the arena!

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. She had tears in her eyes as well, and he knew he was a monster.
He reached up with his right hand and wiped his thumb under her eyes, catching the tears there. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. Her hands held firm to his left, anchoring him as he came to his decision.

“Very well, a courtship. A real one. But Daphne, you must tell me if your feelings change. This will allow us to see if we would truly suit. But if we do not, if you find yourself… falling out of love with me, you must say so. Do not hold on to this just because you have declared yourself so boldly here”

Daphne’s smile was a bright as the sun when he began. It had taken on a look that could only be called mischievous by the end.

“Simon Bassett, I love you and that is not going to change. I want you, and if you let me, I will have you. Hopefully, you will soon come to understand how fully I know my own mind.” She turned as she finished a pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Simon could not be blamed for his actions. As a man strung so tight in that moment, filled with anxiety, hope, pain, fear, and a myriad of other emotions, when he felt Daphne’s soft lips on his hand he simply acted on instinct and fulfilled a long-hidden desire. He turned her face and leaned down to kiss her.

Fueled by impulse, the kiss began furiously, as Simon’s passion-filled soul drove him on. But he quickly recognized the lack of experience behind Daphne’s lips, despite the passion she held as well. So he reigned himself in. This is her first kiss. Just that thought was enough to inflame him yet again, but he tempered his desire. Only days before he had introduced her to the world of pleasure, and now here was another lesson. He waited for her to grow curious, and was rewarded when she began to probe at his lips. He happily opened and invited her in, his tongue caressing hers. The hand on her face slipped back to her hair,  feeling the silky strands tangle in his fingers. Her left hand had released his and had made its way to his chest, grabbing hold of his lapel, where it seemed content to stay. Her right hand held fast to his left, and he held fast to her. 

The sound of a cane and soft voices cause them to separate, though Daphne refused to release his hand, even as they stepped apart. They looked up just as Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton appeared on the terrace, with Lady Danbury sporting a very smug look.

Simon was no fool. She had planned this whole thing. She had perfectly predicted how long it would take Daphne to convince him to her side, and perhaps had given them some extra time as well. She knew what had happened. 

"I'm afraid Daphne and I must be returning home, Your Grace, but I hope we will see you again soon," the nervous question was obvious to all.  Simon looked down at Daphne. Even after what they had just shared, she seemed nervous about his response. 

But this was assured. He would give them time. A chance. 

He looked back at the matriarchs and smiled his most charming smile, "Of course, in fact, Daphne and I were just discussing what events to attend. I think a promenade and perhaps a small picnic lunch tomorrow would be lovely," He may have promised Daphne transparency and truth in their courtship, but there were still performances to put on for others. 

Lady Bridgerton's smile was a bright as her daughters at that moment, "Oh what a wonderful idea! I'm sure the children will love it too. But in that case, we must head home to make sure all preparations are in order."

Simon nodded as the two Ladies turned to each other. He turned back to Daphne, whose face had to be hurting from how wide she was smiling.

As his godmother escorted Lady Briderton to the door, he escorted Daphne.  As they approached the waiting carrige, she reached for both his hands again, "Thank you, Your Grace, for a most wonderful afternoon."

In for a penny Simon thought to himself, and he brought her hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to both. What they had shared on the terrace was theirs, but this was his declaration, in front of both their mother figures, that he was committed to this, committed to her. 

"I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Miss Bridgerton."

He held her hand to aid her into the carriage and watched as it drove away. 

The voice of his godmother drew him back to reality, "I'm glad you let the young lady lead you since she is clearly more adept at matters of the heart than you are."

Simon looked at her, then back to the road where the carriage had disappeared, hoping that he might prove a worthy pupil.

Chapter Text

It was no secret that Eloise Bridgerton was nothing like her older sister. They had so little in common as to make Eloise wonder how they could possibly share the same parents. Watching her sister enthusiastically prepare for her presentation to society, and then readying herself night after night for different balls, concerts, and social functions was exhausting. And Daphne never faltered. Each tiresome event, every tedious acquaintance that would have cause Eloise to run shrieking for the hills, Daphne engaged with a wide smile and eager eye. Why?

Eloise knew her sister wanted to marry for love, wanted to find a husband and have a family of her own, but why? For all their differences, Eloise knew her sister was clever. She was a wonderful musician and composed her own pieces, so why was she so determined to tie herself to a man who would hold complete control over her? It was something Eloise could never understand.

Well, perhaps observing her sister today would provide some answers. Today they were to attend a picnic, a last-minute picnic, with the Duke of Hastings. Unlike the Grand Picnic, this was to be strictly family, with the addition of the Duke. So there would be no chance to speak to Penelope. and of her oldest brothers, only Colin had been drawn into the affair. Benedict had wormed his way out, and it seemed their mother had forgotten to invite Anthony. 

Already dreading the outing, Eloise was making her way toward her room when she heard her mother's voice coming from Daphne’s room.

“…what happened between the two of you. One moment things seemed to be going along smoothly and the next he was leaving the ball early without asking you to dance and acting incredibly reserved. Tell me truly, dearest, is everything alright?”

Did Daphne quarrel with the Duke? Eloise had enjoyed seeing the Duke pointing out her sister's desperation to wed when he had visited for dinner, but she had also noted Daphne’s refusal to simper and smile for him.
Daphne’s voice drew her back to the conversation.

“We had a misunderstanding, mamma, nothing more. He was of the opinion that the Prince would be a better suitor and better husband for me. Do not worry, I made it very clear to him that I am capable of choosing a husband for myself... I believe we have cleared the air.” Daphne’s voice held the confidence with which she did everything.

There was a moment of silence before Eloise heard her mother's voice, “Well, if you’re sure my dear. Then you had best finish getting ready for today.”

Eloise quickly stepped away from Daphne’s door and out of sight as her mother emerged and made her way down the stairs to the front hall. The sound of humming coming from Daphne’s room drew Eloise’s attention. It was the piece her sister had finished only a few days before. She could not say what drove her, but she entered Daphne’s room and watched as her sister pulled on her Spencer and gloves. Daphne had not noticed her.

“Why do you want to marry?” the question seemed to have sprung from her before the thought had fully formed, but she realized that she truly wanted to know the answer.

Daphne’s eyes flew up to hers, “Eloise! I didn’t know you were there.”

The question had gone unanswered. “Why do you want to marry? Do you not what more out of life than to merely be some man’s bride?”

Her sister stared at her, eyes wide. She reminded Eloise of an owl. Then she blinked and smiled, “There are many reasons I want to marry. The most important is that I love Simon. He means so much to me, he is more than my friend. Mama was right, friendship is the greatest foundation for marriage, and I am so fortunate to be in love with my dearest friend.”

This was no surprise to Eloise. Daphne had always wanted to find love and had looked to their parents as the ultimate symbol of love and happiness.

Daphne continued, “And I would not merely be anything. As Duchess, I would have a great many duties to occupy my time. Caring for tenants, managing the many estates and properties, helping Simon with his own duties; these are all duties I have been trained for, and ones I think I will enjoy.”

But it all sounded so mundane! And was that not what was expected?

Perhaps Daphne had developed the ability to hear people’s thoughts, for she said, “You were not wrong, Eloise, when you spoke of the game of pretend. I wanted to wed because it was what society told me I should want and where I would find value and purpose. But with Simon, these would not be mere duties, but one part of our lives together. Regardless of what society tells me to want, I want Simon.”

The smile on her sister's face was the most contented and peaceful look Eloise had ever seen. She stood for a minute, trying to think of herself in such a role, but could not. But there was no guile or falseness to her sister. She wanted this, marriage and the Duke, and she wanted it for herself. And that was something Eloise could understand.

She nodded, “Alright,” and she turned and left to join the family in the front hall.

"If you were truly courting me you'd buy out every florist in town."

It hadn't just been a coy comment to tease him, it had been a truth. And he wanted to give her everything she wanted, everything he could, at least. He had stopped at the florist on his way to pick up Lady Danbury and the whole ordeal had been agonizing. What was her favorite flower? He didn't know! He had settled on a simple pink rose. Red had felt far too intimate, despite the kiss they had shared. Besides, he distinctly remembered how beautiful she had looked as she had breathed in the scent of the white rose he had given her on the bridge. A sight he hoped to see again today. And he had not been disappointed. Sitting on the picnic blanket with Daphne under the canopy of trees, Simon had watched as she continued to finger the petals, bringing the delicate bloom up to her nose again and again as the conversation had continued around them. 

Well, partially around them. The youngest Bridgerton, Hyacinth, had asked him every question ever conceived by man. and Lady Bridgerton had seemed content to let her continue on. Even Lady Danbury had not tried to curb the girl's enthusiasm, rather encouraging her to ask Simon about everything from the Hastings castle, Clyvdon, to his voyages overseas. He certainly enjoyed her curiosity and spirit, but he was growing desperate for the opportunity to speak to Daphne. Luckily, she seemed to share his frustration, for she finally suggested that the two of them take a stroll around the park. After assuring the matrons that they would stay within sight of the group, Simon gratefully took Daphne's hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. 

It was odd. Yesterday morning he had remained committed to his plan to leave London, and not even a full twenty-four hours later he was back at Daphne's side, on a promenade through the park. To the outside world, it probably seemed that nothing had changed between them. But Simon had rarely felt more anxious in his life. Facing his father was perhaps the only time he had ever felt so on edge. But that fear had been born of cruelty and neglect. Here the fear was born of truth. Daphne had asked for a real courtship, and though she had said that she... loved... him, he was not so convinced. Surely once she learned the truth, and saw how unfit he was to be a husband, she would end their courtship and walk out of his life. She thought she loved him, but she did not know all of him, and once she did that would be the end of it. But Simon was a selfish creature, and he would take whatever time with her he could get. Like the smile she was gracing him with now, as she sniffed the rose. Her lips were turned up, barely revealing her teeth, and the urge to kiss her was nearly undeniable. 

Thankfully, she began to speak, "Thank you for putting up with Hyacinth, I know she can be a bit of a handful. Though I've noticed she's quite taken with you, do I have competition?" The teasing joy in her voice warmed his heart; they were returning to the comfortable and casual exchange they had shared before, but now with an undercurrent of something deeper.  

He chuckled, "As charming as you sister is, there is no competition to be had for your company. I enjoy my time with you too dearly to exchange it for anything else," it was perhaps more serious than the conversation had called for, but she wanted all of him, honestly, and this was the truth. Daphne's answering smile was rewarding enough for his honesty, but the added squeeze he felt on his arm and her quiet, but sincere, "I am pleased to hear that." warmed him further. 

He perhaps should have given more thought to his response, because the next words out of his mouth were "Well, your pleasure pleases me." and it was as if a match had been lit between them. What had moments before been comfortable companionship was now erratic heartbeats and shallow breaths. He noticed also that her pupils were blown wide as well, and heaven help him, she had never looked more beautiful. His words had stopped her in her tracks and she stared, with unabashed lust. Damn!!  Why had he said that? And why had he said it in public, where he could not drag her off to a more private location and ravish her as he so desired?

This was perhaps the most dangerous aspect of their courtship. He did not know if she had taken his advice about self-pleasure, but he knew that no one else had ever explained anything about the joys of the body to her, and he was terrified that, having been the first to introduce her to such joys, she would confuse lust for him with love for him. She had never truly experienced either, how would she distinguish them?

He opened his mouth to try and say something, anything to break the tension, but as he watched, the lust began to fade from her eyes, and what took its place was joy; pure unabashed joy. Which quickly morphed into a coy smile.

"I do believe you are trying to put me off balance, Your Grace. That is not the behavior of a gentleman," She had turned her face away from him as she spoke, but she still looked at him out of the corner of her eye, mimicking the actions of Cressida Cowper when she had been introduced to Prince Fredrick. 

He smirked, "Employing the lessons from your book on me, Miss Bridgerton? I assure you I am immune to any tricks you might try!" That was a lie. All she had to do was smile at him and he would be at her beck and call. Or laugh, as she was now. Heaven help him, all he wanted to do was to make her smile, make her laugh, over and over again. What a joy that would be. 

Before she could make a response, the clearing of a throat drew their attention. An older matron, seated by the path, was glaring at them. At all the couples that were out, so it seemed. Well, Simon was not going to let some old biddy's idea of proper courtship interfere with his attention to Daphne. With the older lady staring him down, he brought Daphne's hand up from the crook of his arm to his lips and kissed her hand. If looks could kill, he likely would have dropped dead, so severe was her glare. Daphne, on the other hand, seemed torn between enjoying both his attentions as well as his exchange with the matron and embarrassed by the public display. Embarrassment seemed to win out as she withdrew her hand and placed it back on his arm. 

Perhaps to lessen the sting of her withdrawal, she smiled up at him, her cheeks still stained red, "I thought you had no intention of causing a scandal, Your Grace," 

He put on his most imposing and superior air, "What scandal is there in a subdued show of affection? And who will say nay to one in my position, openly courting a lady?" Her laughter at his act swept through his soul like a fresh breeze off the ocean. 

"And need I remind you, Miss Bridgerton, I asked you to call me Simon," he remembered that night so clearly. It had been the first moment he had realized how much danger there was in their ruse. He had wanted her, and she had wanted a life he could not provide. But now, there might be hope. She seemed to be remembering that night as well, as she blushed. 

Her next question, however, nearly brought him to his knees, "Simon, you do not need to tell me, but I am curious, why did you swear off marriage?" It was so simple a question, and if he had his wits about him, he might have been able to form a coherent lie or a least a partial truth, but all he could do was cough as his brain struggled to answer. 

How could he answer? If he told her the truth she would end this immediately, and he wanted to pretend for a little longer. If he lied, she would be able to tell. She had become exceptionally talented at reading more of him than he wished. What could he say? Nothing. There was nothing he could say, for his treacherous tongue was tripping over itself and his lips were not forming words. Could she tell? As the silence stretched on and he continued to flounder, could she tell why he had not answered?

Perhaps she could, for she said, "Nevermind, you do not have to tell me." She was still smiling, and there was no judgment on her face. Because had not realized, or because she had, and it did not matter to her?  His brain struggled to keep up. He had not stammered. He had not spoken at all, but did she understand what had happened? And that thought led to another, one he had never allowed to form in his mind. That she, that anyone, would not judge him for his stammer. That Daphne might truly love him despite his stammer, that knowing her...husband.... had such a defect would not offend her or drive her away. Was that possible?

They had returned to her family, to see her younger siblings were all engaged in a fight with a kite away from the blanket. Her mother and Lady Danbury were the only ones still by the blanket. Both turned to smile at them as they approached, but neither tried to draw them into the conversation, rather leaving them to their own devices. As Daphne moved to sit on the blanket, she expected Simon to sit near her so they could converse. She was not expecting him to sit right beside her. He was practically pressed up against her side. She could feel the heat emanating from him, warming her to her core. This was by no means appropriate. But she would never send him away from her. He was sat behind her, pressed against her right side, his face right beside her own. It was incredibly intimate and was by no means acceptable behavior for a courting couple. 

But there was no way she was going to push him away. 

Here, under the cover of a tree, partially secluded away from the rest of the ton, she was going to take whatever he would give. She had nearly wept with relief when he had agreed to a real courtship the day before. His warped sense of self-worth seemed to be the only thing standing in their way. The romantic in her had thought, after he had kissed her, that he would accept everything she was offering and rush them off to the nearest church as fast as he could, but of course, that was ridiculous. 

That kiss. He had been so gentle, and so attentive. It had featured heavily in her dreams when her head hit the pillow. All she had been able to think of was Simon and his lips. It had been a struggle not to jump at him and resume their kiss when he arrived at the park. The urge had been nearly overpowering when he had handed her the single pink rose, his face glowing with his smile. And that smile had stayed on his face the entire time. Even with her loud and rambunctious family, he had seemed to be happy to be part of the chaos that was the Bridgerton Clan.

The only time he had lost that smile was when she had asked about his aversion to marriage. She knew he had declared he had no interest in marriage, but she had assumed it was a sign of immaturity, as her mother had said it was with her brothers. They didn't want the responsibility. And certainly a man with a reputation like the one Simon boasted would surely indicate the same immaturity and aversion to duty and responsibility.  But now, knowing Simon as she did, and knowing the little she did of his parents, she could not help but wonder if there was a deeper reason for his desire not to find a bride. 

One thing Daphne was absolutely sure of was that she needed to put that reason to rest. Be it a fear, a distaste for the institution, or another reason entirely, she needed Simon to be willing to wed her. She needed him to need her as his bride and desperately as she needed him as her husband. She didn't want him to feel duty-bound, coerced, or pity. He had almost always treated her as a capable and clear-thinking individual. He spoke to her as someone who could lead their one life and make their own decisions.  She wanted him to love her thee same way, as an equal, capable of giving as much as she was given. 

It was strange, so little had changed of their actions, certainly in public, but even privately between them. And yet the feeling behind those actions was so different. She no longer had to remind herself that there was nothing serious between them because now there was! They were really courting and she was free to be as honest as she wanted in her affection for Simon, and he for her. 

So instead of advising Simon that he was too close to her, she leaned back into him, relaxing her entire body into his frame. His arm came around her and entwined their hands and finger together. Daphne sighed, enjoying the moment. There was no pressure, no expectation, just the two of them together. She hoped and prayed that they might get to enjoy such intimacy every day soon. 

Of course, this sort of peace could not last, and Simon began to chuckle.  Daphne turned to look at him, a smile spreading onto her own face, "Something amuses you?" 

"Only the thought of what that old bat would think of us sitting like this now. I'm sure she would have a great deal to say," His laughter had lessened and he stared directly into her eyes as he said, "Not that I would stop for her."

Daphne gave herself strict instructions that she not swoon, no matter how moved she was by his words. Instead, she smiled. 

"Neither would I."

She leaned into him, hoping he might kiss her again. And perhaps he might have, if the loud, and clearly purposeful laughter of her mother and Lady Danbury hadn't interrupted. She and Simon glanced over at the two matrons, who were throwing glances at them as well.  Simon smiled again and turned back to her. 

"Hopefully," he said, "we might be able to achieve the kind of privacy we were afforded yesterday tomorrow."

Her breathing increase at the thought of being intentionally alone with him, "Tomorrow?"

He nodded, " A friend of mine is holding a boxing exhibition tomorrow, and I promised I would be there. I know you have no love for the sport, but it might be the opportunity we have been looking for. It's not appropriate entertainment for a lady, but would you be willing to accompany me there?"

She was nodding before he had even finished speaking, "Yes, I think we can accomplish that."

He smiled again and lifted her hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. 

She did not swoon, but she did feel her heartbeat flutter. 

Chapter Text

Just want to say I appreciate all the comments, and support!! There is more coming, I AM going to finish this story, but there might not be another chapter till at least the end of the month. I’m sorry about that, but life and work have been kicking my ass lately. 

Also, for some reason, ch.5 is listed as having been published in May but i didn’t publish it till early June. No idea why!

Chapter Text

Daphne was not in the habit of lying to her mother, but neither was she going to give up time with Simon for anything. Regardless of her distaste for boxing, she was eager to join Simon at the gymnasium. She was also looking forward to meeting his friend, Will Mondritch, and Will’s wife, Alice. Simon was an incredibly private person, and even his friendship with Anthony had seemed to be fairly surface level, especially lately given her relationship with Simon. The knowledge that Simon had someone else he could turn to, a true friend who would stick by him, was comforting to her. And it made her all the more eager to meet the Mondritches and show her support at today’s match.

And yet there was no way her mother would support such an excursion, so a little duplicity was called for.

“We’ll be going to the Menagerie, Mama. We’ll be entirely within public view, I’m sure that there is no need for a chaperone.”

Daphne had no objection to Rose’s presence, but Simon’s suggestion that they may be able to sneak away to be alone would be entirely impossible if Rose was trailing after them. 

“Daphne, I’m not fully comfortable with this. A courting couple should not be alone together at all, even in public. What will people think?” Violet was not a woman who would blindly follow convention, but she was also not about to let the bloom of first love distract from propriety.

“They’ll think that the relationship between Simon and myself is deepening and on its way to the only logical conclusion.” Daphne could not help but smile at that thought. Simon had seemed so much more relaxed and open yesterday in the park, especially after their walk. He had even kissed her hand as he had handed her into the carriage, causing her to blush bright red but also putting a smile on her face that had lasted well into the night. The hope that the two of them were truly making progress was nearly as intoxicating as the presence of Simon himself.

Violet’s sigh drew Daphne out of her thoughts of yesterday, “Very well, my dear. But I want you to remember that you are not married yet, and retain a little propriety, please.”

Daphne’s smile nearly lit up the room, “Yes, Mama.”

The Hastings carriage drove through Mayfair towards Grosvenor Square, carrying one man and one rose. Simon was a bundle of nerves, but he was also filled with determination. He had made his decision. She had not judged him, she had not withdrawn from him, instead, she had shown patience and understanding. And he was not going to let such joy and compassion slip through his fingers. He was going to marry her.  

But first, she deserved a real and proper courtship and all the trappings that went along with it. She had asked for a courtship in order to persuade him, but now he wished to truly woo her. He wanted to recapture those elusive moments when they had been so close. When they next danced, he would allow his hand to linger on her skin, heightening both of their senses. He would stare too long, laugh too loud, and be more honest and open with her than he had ever been with another. Their ruse had stood in the way before, both of them maintaining boundaries to protect themselves. Well, Daphne had been brave, she had risked her heart and her pride, to be honest with him, and now he was going to do the same.

Once the carriage had stopped in front of Bridgerton House, he quickly made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door. The Bridgerton butler, Humbolt, bowed deeply as he admitted Simon to the house. Simon had been raised to be respectful and gracious to all, including servants, however, the thanks he had prepared died on his lips as his eyes fell on Daphne descending the stairs. All thought left his head as well, save that her bright smile was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen.

This was what he wanted to see every morning. The bright smile and brighter eyes of the woman who loved him, who didn’t judge him, who wanted him. All of him.

Alice Mondrich was remarkable, Daphne had not been in her company above a quarter of an hour before she realized that. She was headstrong, entirely independent, and yet the perfect partner for her husband. Daphne could not help but wish they had met before now, for there was no way Alice would have let Simon and Daphne tie themselves up in knots, confusing themselves and their feelings for each other for as long as they had. Alice had taken one look at Daphne and Simon standing together, before asking if the two of them had an announcement to make. Her husband had looked mildly horrified, while also looking far too amused, Simon’s mouth had fallen open, and Daphne could feel her own cheeks heating, but could also feel her lips turning up at the brass of the lady.

“Not yet, I’m afraid” was the best response she was able to come up with at the moment. The smile that had appeared on Alice’s face told Daphne she had passed some unknown test.

Bold as brass, Alice marched over to Daphne, linked their arms, and led the two of them out to the arena, where a small crowd had begun to gather around the ring. Simon and Will were left behind, watching in horror and admiration respectively.

Daphne knew Alice was not attempting to intimidate her. Rather, this was just how Alice was. She was not afraid to say what needed to be said and to care for those around her. A quality Daphne shared. “How has he seemed to you? You have known him longer and can read him better than I.”

Alice’s steps did not falter, “Not long ago, I would have said ‘restless’ or perhaps directionless, but he has been calmer these past few weeks. A change, I believe, that can be attributed to you.”

Daphne began to smile, but a frown marred her face as a thought came to her, “And calm is… good for him? I do not wish him to change for me.” It was something Daphne was determined to avoid. She wanted Simon because he had seen her as she was, both her understanding and cynicism of society and expectations, understanding its expectations but wanting more than to survive just within those expectations. He recognized that she wanted to thrive, wanted to carve her own corner of happiness within the rules and roles that had been pre-determined from her birth. And she thought she had recognized the same in him. She didn’t want him to settle into a role that he had not fully chosen for himself.

Thankfully, before she could work herself into a fit of panic, Alice snorted. Daphne turned abruptly, the smile returning to her lips.

“He’s not changing, Miss Bridgerton. He’s simply realized he doesn’t need to constantly be on guard and can be himself with a wider crowd. Even with my Will, he always maintained an attitude, devil-may-care style. Will had accepted that the Duke simply didn’t want to let anyone in completely. But you’ve broken through. It’s good for him, and Will and I appreciate it.” The two of them looked at each other. As the audience, gamblers, gentlemen, ladies, tradesmen, and others moved about them, Alice and Daphne smiled at each other.

"You must call me Daphne."

Alice smiled wider "Very well".

Simon and Will turned to each other, Will smile growing larger as he saw the terror on the duke’s face.

A Duke terrified of his betrothed and a pugilist’s wife!

Taking pity on his friend, Will said, “I’m sure Alice won’t tell Miss Bridgerton everything she knows about you,” Well, a little pity.

The teasing snapped Simon out of it. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to finish helping Will ready himself for the fight ahead. He carried Will’s shirt and a towel, something Will had given up objecting to. The fighter had initially protested a Duke carrying anything for him, but Simon’s persistence had outlived Will’s, and now it was just part of their routine. Theirs was an unusual friendship, coming from such different backgrounds as they did. Will still avoided calling the Duke by his name, though he wasn’t sure if the man had noticed.

For his part, Simon nudged Will as the two of them made their way out to the arena. “Alice can tell her anything she likes, Daphne has proved immovable, for which I am eternally blessed.” Simon knew he was smiling like a fool, but he had no desire to fight it. Being with Daphne, knowing how deeply she loved him, how determined she was, it made him feel complete.  

The fight had been fantastic. The appearance of the Prince had been irritating at best, and infuriating at worst. Simon tried to control his jealousy; there was no reason for it. Daphne had barely acknowledged him before the fight. They had exchanged pleasantries, but that had been it. And yet, Simon had seen the Prince watching her. She had been sitting behind Simon with Alice, cheering Will on, and yet Simon had felt his face heating. He had wanted to both climb over the ring and pummel the prince, as Will pummeled his champion, and also turn and kiss Daphne right in front of the royal. He knew neither of these was an acceptable course of action. And that knowledge had done nothing to diminish his rising frustration. He had finally chosen to focus on the fight. Will had been doing well, but Simon had needed to distract himself. 'Guiding Will' had been the only way to do that. Will's final punch on the Irishman had been satisfying, but not enough. As Will had shaken hands with both Gillespie and the Prince, Simon had turned back to Daphne and Alice. Alice had moved to her husband, and Daphne was alone, still at her seat, staring at him. Her face had been flushed, her pose rigid, her neck straining, her hands clenched, and her eyes...

Her pupils were blown wide. 

And she was still staring right at him. 

God in Heaven! She was beautiful. She was glorious. 

He saw her swallow.

He was walking toward her before he even realized his feet were moving. He was looking down at her in an instant, wanting to draw her away from the crowd. He opened his mouth to suggest they leave, but nothing came out. Though this was a speechlessness he could enjoy, as long as she was looking at him like that. 

As he tried to make his mouth say something, she put hers to far better use and leaned up. He didn't see her hands reach up to him, but he felt them pull his head down. 

He had begun their first kiss with fire and passion and then gentled it to accommodate her inexperience. Daphne was not going to allow that now, She held him tight, her lips moving furiously against his, her tongue fierce in its insistence.  Simon was completely ignorant of the dregs of the crowd that were exiting the gymnasium, his entire being focused on the lithe body pressed against him. 

Daphne's first kiss had been two days before, and already she felt like an expert. Of course, she had no objection to practicing further with Simon. In fact, she viewed that as one of the main perks of their official courtship. Simply being in his company, knowing his feelings for her were growing, that they truly had a chance of a future together, was, of course, the chief benefit, but being able to kiss him freely (at least somewhat freely) was a close second. And given his display during the fight, there was no chance she would not take the first opportunity to kiss him. He had told her that there was more to a marriage and given her limited experimentation, she was eager to see what they could do together beyond just kissing.

Watching him during the fight, as he removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves, Daphne had lost all concentration on Will and Gillespie, her mind focusing entirely on Simon. She knew he boxed, and she had already observed during their numerous dances that he cut an impressive figure underneath his garments, but she had never before been so aware of how fine that figure was. Seeing the bare skin of his arms had surprised her. She had seen men with rolled sleeves, laborers usually, and had never before given thought to bare skin, or exposed... anything, really. But now she was shockingly aware of Simon and his skin. She wanted to see more. 

He had told her that one could touch oneself anywhere on the body to produce pleasure. Would it give her pleasure to touch him unclothed? Would it please him? 

She had questions that needed answers.

But not now. Right now, her lips were more productively engaged. 

She held firm to the back of his head, kept him firmly against her, even as her lungs began to burn. She felt his arm encircle her, keeping her in place as well. As that burn in her lungs began to overwhelm her, she pulled back only so that there was enough space for air. As she tried to reacquaint herself with the act of breathing, Simon began to trail small kisses along her cheek, down toward her neck. She had never had a particularly sensitive neck, but it felt as if she had never been touched there before. It was as if he had poured liquid fire into her soul and lungs. She had stopped kissing him in order to breathe, but he was currently making that impossible. She certainly didn't have enough air left to power the grown that managed to escape her throat, but that stopped neither the sound nor the reaction it drew from Simon. the tightening of his arms and the strength of his lips made her gasp the escaped air back in.

Of course, regardless of the joy and pleasure, they were sharing, they were still in a public space, something others were keen to remind them of.

"Enjoying yourselves?" came Alice's voice.

Simon pulled away quickly, but at some point during their.... exchange, Daphne had lost control of her legs and nearly fell into her chair as Simon tried to move away. of course, his arms were still partially around her, so as she fell, so did he, landing half sprawled in her lap. 

Alice's laugh was understandable, but not necessarily appreciated. 

Neither was Will's.

Simon righted himself, refusing to look her in the eye. 

"Excellent Will. You were brilliant. You fought well and won. I'm sure this will produce the kind of interest in the gym that you've been craving." Though they were the words that he should have spoken, no one could deny that he sounded like he'd been unexpectedly woken, and was not fully aware of his circumstances. 

Will's smile did not dim, but his eyes softened as he watched his friend try to untangle himself from Daphne's skirts. She wasn't much help, as her hands were shaking far too much to be of use. 

"Thank you. We did very well today. And you know, I could not have done it without you." Daphne could tell that Will truly meant it. He wasn't paying lip service to a sponsor, he was thanking a friend. 

Simon, freed from the fabric of her dress, descended the steps to speak to Will, brushing aside the thanks. Alice, meanwhile approached Daphne, smiling like the cat who had caught the canary Daphne knew she was red, but she also knew it had nothing to do with the embarrassment of being caught. She was just out of breath. She was not going to let herself be embarrassed, not for enjoying anything to do with the man she loved.

By the time Alice sat down next to her, Daphne was wearing the exact same smile. Alice chuckled to see it. 

"Yes," Alice said, "You were definitely enjoying yourselves."

Daphne looked to Simon who was still talking to Will, then back to Alice. Daphne's chuckle joined Alice's before they were both crying with laughter, leaving the men at the other end of the room to stare in horror and amusement. 

As they returned to Bridgerton House, Simon remembered he had something he wanted to find out before he departed for the day.

Approaching the gate to the house, Simon said "Daphne, I wanted to ask, after the fight, when we..." he paused. She was still a novice in the ways of the body, of intimacy, and yet it was just a kiss.

There is no such thing as 'just a kiss' with her his mind provided. True, but what else was he going to say?

Luckily, he didn't have to. "When I kissed you?" she stated.

He could feel his body remembering that moment, "Yes. Ahem, when I turned to you, you were staring at me. Um, may I ask why" He didn't know what had caused her arousal, but that seemed like vital information for him to have. 

Daphne's face began to glow, but instead of looking down and away, she instead smiled and looked him right in the eye as she said "Your arms." 

What? 

"Watching you take off your jacket, and roll up your sleeves as you encouraged Will, I enjoyed that. I like it." Honesty, pure and unfiltered.

He was going to find a way for her to see him box. He didn't care what the circumstances were, or how ridiculous the scenario, she was going to see him box, and then the both of them were going to enjoy the aftermath.  

He was leaning down to kiss her again, a public street in the middle of the afternoon be dammed, when the front door of the house opened, and out stepped Benedict Bridgerton. The second eldest wasn't looking at them, instead, he was turned into the house speaking to someone, and just as Simon contemplated pulling Daphne into the bushes, her brother turned toward them. It was clear from the cheeky smile on his lips that he knew exactly what he had interrupted. 

"Well, look who's returned from the menagerie, though I was certain I saw you at a boxing exhibition today, Your Grace." He practically waltzed toward them as the door closed behind him.

That smile was irritating. And Simon was shocked he hadn't noticed Benedict in the crowd, and that Benedict had not approached him. Thankfully, Daphne knew how to handle her older brother. "Well, that's impossible since Simon and I were at the Menagerie all day. Anyway, don't you have somewhere to be, Benedict?"

Simon nearly believed her performance himself. Clearly, Benedict did not, as his smile fell slightly and his voice lowered to say "Of course, dear sister, but you do want to go about things correctly, don't you?" Benedict's words were a warning, but also a question. Daphne had always done what was expected of her, surely courting a Duke, she would adhere to that policy more so than usual.

Her response put that thought to bed. "Only if correctly gets me the result I want."

Benedict's face did not betray the shock he surely felt. He simply nodded, kissed her forehead, and turned to Simon saying, "Going to White's, Your Grace? I'm headed in that direction."

The message was clear. Simon nodded, but before relinquishing Daphne to the house, he took both her hands, brought them up, and made sure she was looking at his eyes and nowhere else. 

"Goodnight, Miss Bridgerton. I'll see you tomorrow night for dinner." They had not made plans, but he was determined to see her every day he possibly could. She smiled and nodded. He smiled as well as he kissed both her hands, before escorting her the rest of the way to the door, where Humbolt let her in. 

He stayed staring until the last vibration of the closing door had dissipated. Then he turned to Benedict and the two headed out into the dimming light. 

Simon didn't feel that this moment called for conversation, so he was surprised when Benedict reached out to stop him and spoke,

"Be careful about how public you are. Anthony doesn't approve. I don't know why, he hasn't shared that information with me, but he'll be an obstacle for the two of you if he finds out before you're ready for him."

Simon wasn't sure if he was surprised or not. That Benedict felt it necessary to warn him about Anthony, rather than away from Daphne, showed who's side he was on, if there even were sides, to begin with. But it also spoke to the lengths Anthony would go to in order to separate him from Daphne if he could. Simon hated having to think ill of his school friend, but Daphne was not someone he was willing to lose to a miscommunication. Not anymore. 

"Thank you." He said to Benedict. The two nodded to each other and walked on. 

Chapter Text

Benedict was no fool. He knew that there was more to the courtship between his sister and the Duke then either of them let one. Or at least, there had been. Now though, after having seen them on the steps of Brigerton House, Benedict was sure he had rarely seen such pure and unfiltered love as the two of them displayed.  

Walking alongside the Duke now, having warned him about Anthony, Benedict realized that, regardless of any obstacle that Anthony might try to implement, he would ultimately fail. Daphne’s response earlier was evidence enough. She was determined to have the Duke, and it seemed the Duke was equally determined to have her. 

He had been heading to Sir Granville’s home, but perhaps he should delay that visitation. If this man was to be his brother-in-law, than he had best get to know him. 

“You seem entirely serious, Your Grace. Will the two of you make your home in Clyvedon, or here in London?” It was a good opener. A man who was uncertain would flee, or at least flinch, at such a question. 

The Duke did not even blink, “We have not spoken of it, though given both of our preferences for the country, Clyvedon is likely to be where we reside most of the year. I fear that even marriage will not release us from our social obligations during the season. Though I am sure that there will be no shortage of visits between Hasting’s and Kent, if not to London as well.” 

Well, there it was. His little sister was going to be a wife. What an odd thing. Regardless of the expectations that had been hanging over her head, he had still never truly considered that Daphne would wed someone else and leave them. But now it was definitely going to happening. And soon, too, if their shared looks were anything to go by. 

To distract himself, Benedict moved on from marriage. “And how are you with children, Your Grace? I’m sure it cannot have escaped your notice that my sister is eager to be a mother, especially having grown up with so many siblings. I do not think she could ever live in a quiet house. She would prefer many voices and the pitter-patter of too many feet.“ 

Had Benedict not been actively trying not to think of losing his little sister, he may have noticed the odd reaction the Duke was currently experiencing. The widening of the eyes, the paling of the face, the slack of the jaw, were all indicators that the Duke had not given any thought to children at all.

He may have escaped Benedict’s notice, entirely were it not for his lack of response. When none was forthcoming, Benedict turned to look at the other man,  It was clear the Duke had not expected the question. In fact he looked down right panicked. He reached out and held fast to the Duke’s arm, stopping them both in their tracks. 

“Your Grace, are you alright?”

Damnit! He had not experienced this kind of freeze up since his school days. Why was an innocent question about children causing him such anxiety? He knew this was a question he was going to have to discuss with Daphne. He had been avoiding it, wanting to enjoy her presence and not dredge up the ghost of his father and the man’s ruthless obsession with the Hasting’s legacy. And now her brother was asking if there were to be Hasting’s heirs. It was the expectation of society, that he produce an heir to carry on the family name. Why was he panicking?!

Bridgeton was still speaking to him, asking if he was well, if should he call for a physician, what was wrong? And Simon had no answer for him. What could he say? He could not confess his vow, least of all to a man he only barely knew, he could not admit his impediment, the one he had thought he had beaten, but seemed to be waiting in the wings to strike when he was most vulnerable. 

What could he do? 

He could breathe. 

He focused on the air going in and out of his lungs, refusing to allow his mind to wander from those two actions. As he breathed, he felt his heart begin to slow, felt his mind calm, and finally began to allow his mind to focus on the man beside him. 

Bridgerton looked to be on the verge of panicking himself. His eyes were blown wide and he was staring at Simon is near horror. Simon tried to swallow, but based on the wariness in Bridgerton’s eyes, he had clearly failed. 

“Fear not, Bridgerton, I am well.” he attempted to assure the younger man.

“You are sure? You do not need to rest a moment? We have not gone far, we could return to the house and call for a physician…” What a comment! What a family! Rarely had he met someone who, seeing him in the grips of his own fearful mind, would willingly step up and ask after him, let alone offer him care.

He remembered clearly the judgment and disgust in his father's face from his childhood. He had learned from that experience not to let others see him like this, as he was. He would only allow them to see what he wanted them to see. 

And yet here was a family who stood by each other no matter the cost, no matter the obstacle, who were united. And clearly, that extended to others. They were willing to open their doors and their hearts to others. Perhaps it was due in part to his relationship with Daphne, but he suspected that any of the Bridgerton brood would have behaved the same as Benedict just had even if they had no idea who he was. 

He looked at Benedict. 

He had never had a brother, There had been Anthony, and there was Will. But he had never truly had a brother. 

“I assure, you, there is no need for a physician.“ He smiled again, and this time he seemed to do it properly, as some of the horror began to leave Benedict's face. “If you are still concerned over my health, would you care to join me at White’s for a drink? I realize you had other plans, so..” 

“Yes” Benedict interrupted, “I would be pleased to join you.”

Benedict finally released hIs arm and stepped back, though he did not go far.  As they turned to walk on, Simon made a split-second decision. 

“I have invited your Mother and sister to dinner tomorrow night, Bridgerton, would you care to accompany them? I will send the invitation in the morning, and I would be glad of your company.”

He had thought to invite Lady Danbury to ensure there was a fourth, allowing him to pair off in conversation with Daphne while his godmother distracted his future Mother-in-law. But perhaps this dinner would be better served as a way to better acquaint himself with his future family. 

His family. What a concept.

Benedict had turned to him, a wide and disarming smile on his face. “Thank you, I would be honored! And, given the future union that awaits you, please, feel free to call me Benedict, especially when Anthony is about.“

Simon smiled. “And you are welcome to call me Simon.” He was becoming part of a family and developing connections and relations. Remarkable!

If both the Duke and the second Bridgerton son were actively avoiding the question that had led to them stopping on the side of the street in the middle of the evening, neither of them allowed themselves to think about it. 

And the Duke did not allow himself to think about why he was truly so desperate to avoid the topic of children.

Nothing could interrupt Daphne’s good mood. The pure joy of being able to spend time with Simon had not having to pretend that she was not helplessly in love with him was freeing in a way she had not anticipated. The honesty that had bloomed between them was lovely. 

As she passed the parlor, her mother emerged with Mrs. Wilson right behind her. 

“Daphne, you two were gone quite a while. How was the Menagerie?”

Ah yes, she had lied to her mother. “It was lovely mother, though I confess I did not see as much of it as I would have liked.” She purposely cast her mind back to the kiss she and Simon had shared at the gymnasium, knowing the blush that would rise on her face would allow her mother to think that she had been too focused on Simon to pay much attention to Menagerie. 

And she was correct. Her mother's suspicious visage melted into dreamy and contented. “Well my dear, I’m glad you had a good day. Has His Grace left already?” She said looking up toward the door.

”No, he departed with Benedict. I believe they are going to White’s. Simon has also extended an invitation to us for dinner tomorrow night. I believe he will send a note tomorrow morning with the particulars.” It didn’t matter that she and Simon had not discussed their plans for the next day in any detail, they would figure it out. 

Her mother’s smile grew and she immediately turned to Mrs. Wilson to begin making preparations for what Daphne would wear and to make sure Eloise, Gregory, and Hyacinth were organized for dinner the next night. “We must make sure either Anthony, Benedict, or Colin are here to keep an eye on them. And I want Daphne’s best dress aired out and ready for tomorrow evening.”

Daphne smiled and shook her head as the two women went up to her mother’s sitting room. She knew she could wear her most simple dress with no decoration or embellishment, and Simon would still think she was beautiful. 

That was part of her new euphoria. Knowing that Simon loved her, that her feelings were returned, and that he acknowledged those feelings as well, it was exhilarating. As she made her way up the stairs to her own room, Colin came out of the library. 

“Well, here is my elusive sister. One can only assume that she has been in the company of a certain Duke this afternoon to have such a smile on her face.” The smirk on her brother's face was immensely punchable. Perhaps she should encourage Simon to teach her boxing as well, so she could perfect her technique. 

“I understand you and the Duke were unchaperoned today, how on earth did you manage to convince Mother to allow that?” Her brother's smirk morphed into an odd combination of concern and scolding. 

Well too bad. Daphne was not going to let anyone tell her how to go about getting the man she loved. “We were in public, surrounded by others, it was no different than if we were in a crowded ballroom together.”

Colin didn’t look convinced, but at least he dropped the topic. 

“Also, Colin, I do not know if you have any plans for tomorrow evening, but Mama and I have been invited to dinner with Simon tomorrow and we will need someone here to keep an eye on the children.” It was a running gag between the oldest four Bridgerton’s to refer to the youngest four as ‘the children’ if for no other reason than they knew that it irritated their youngest siblings. 

Colin had apparently not heard her question at all, for as soon as she said Simon’s name, his jaw hit the floor. He stood gaping at her for nearly a full minute before he finally managed to form a coherent thought. 

“Simon? You call him by his name?” Colin could not have looked more confused than if she told him she had flown to the moon and back that afternoon. 

Daphne smiled, “Yes I do, and he calls me by mine. Is that so surprising? We do plan to marry.” It may have been a bit premature to make such a declaration, that she had left the course of their courtship in Simon’s hands after their reunion, but she had no doubt that he was going to ask and that they would be married fairly soon. 

Colin’s confusion seemed to grow. He was beginning to remind her of a fish with his mouth open like that. “Colin?”

His face did not change, it was his eyes that showed the myriad of emotions going through him. His eyes had at first shown only surprise, but they had quickly changed to irritation, perhaps at her confidence in a man whom their oldest brother, and even she at first, had decried as a rake. The irritation had then morphed into pride, perhaps at her confidence and determination, and then into reflection and wistfulness.

She smiled and grasped his hand, “I promise to visit often brother. We will all see each other as much as possible. Hyacinth will likely be desperate to visit Clevedon as soon as we are open to visitors, and of course, Mama will never allow us to get out of visiting Aubrey Hall for Christmas. You will not lose my company.”

Colin finally smiled at her, “Well that is good to hear, for surely without you there will be absolute chaos amongst the rest of us. And Anthony is likely to be insufferable.”

Daphne frowned at that. She knew that Anthony had been opposed to her courtship with Simon, but she had believed that it was due to the arrangement with Berbrooke, and then a belief that she and Simon would not suit each other. Their late-night chat in the kitchen had led her to believe that Anthony just didn’t truly understand Simon, or at least understood a different side of him, for surely a man would be different at school than as a man grown. But was there something else? Was he opposed to their union for another reason? She couldn’t imagine why.

But if he was….

She refocused on her brother, “Colin, would you be willing to do me a favor?”

Her brother quirked an eyebrow and smirked again, “On top of corralling the children tomorrow evening?”

Daphne smiled at that, “Yes. Could you make sure Anthony comes to dinner here tomorrow evening?”

Colin’s smile was downright devious, and if Daphne was not so sure he was on her side, she might have been worried about the havoc that smile promised.  

Chapter Text

Anthony honestly hadn’t given much thought to the situation in several days. He’d had more crucial things on his mind. Siena’s rejection of him, specifically.  

Hastings had said that his intentions toward Daphne were respectful, and yet also that he had no intention of seeing his courtship with Daphne through to its logical, and expected conclusion. What could he possibly mean by it? Daphne was a lady of society, and as such had a role to fulfill.

He had argued with her when she had claimed that Whistledown’s words were having a negative effect on her chances at a good match, but even he knew how damaging gossip could be if not dealt with quickly. Daphne had seen the attention she had been getting, and the subsequent loss of that attention as damning, and it truly had been. But that was in the past. Now Whistledown, and the ton, had nothing but positives to say about Daphne.

And Hastings.

That was the problem. If Hastings had no intention of coming to the point, then Daphne was going to be the one to suffer the consequences when Hastings lost interest, and it would lead to the same situation as before.

When Daphne had drawn the attention of Prince Friedrich, Anthony had hoped that she would turn her attention to, not only the better match but to the safer one as well. The Prince was actually likely to ask for her hand, unlike the Duke, who seemingly took no interest in his responsibilities. The few conversations Anthony had exchanged with Hastings had shown him how uninterested in his duties the new Duke was. The man seemed determined to waltz through life, with little thought to others. 

And Anthony was not going to let his little sister, and everything she represented for their family, be caught up in Hastings’ nonsense.

The first thing he needed to do was talk to Hastings. For all her good intentions, Violet Bridgerton could not be counted on to see the logic of Anthony’s actions. She was still cross with him for the interference which had led to the incident with Berbrooke. As was Daphne. He couldn’t entirely blame him, but now was not the time for grudges. If Daphne didn’t break off with Hastings before it was too late, the entire family would be paying the consequences.

He had intended to speak with Hastings at Whites that day until he remembered that Will Mondrich had a match scheduled for that afternoon, so there would be no chance of turning Hastings’ mind to any topic other than boxing. So he had settled on speaking to him at Whites the next evening. He knew the man didn’t like to spend any more time than he needed to in the house that had been his father's. He was surprised, therefore, to find Hastings absent from the club for a second night. What on earth was that man doing?

Finally, he decided to head to Bridgerton House, hoping he was on time to dine with his family. Colin had strongly suggested that he attend, and perhaps he would be able to drop a comment or two in Daphne’s ear to get her thinking about ending things herself. He truly had no idea what had drawn her and his old friend together in the first place, but surely there was no way it could be put aside.

It needed to be put aside.

His first clue that something was different should have been the noise. Or lack thereof. Upon being shown into the dining room, he was stunned beyond words at what he saw. The table that was usually full to bursting with the many members of the Bridgerton clan was practically empty. His mother, Benedict, and Daphne were absent. There were not even places set for them to suggest that they’d finished and retired. Colin and Hyacinth were sat opposite Gregory and Eloise. The room was so quiet, with only four voices in place of the nine that were usually there.

The lack of noise meant that his entrance was like a stampede. All four occupants turned to him as he appeared in the doorway, smiles widening. Gregory and Hyacinth at least looked genuinely pleased to see him, while Colin and Eloise’s smiles seemed sinister, a warning that he should have taken better note of at that moment.

“Brother! You’re here!” Hyacinth’s delight was a small balm to the agitation he had been feeling. At least it was until Colin began to speak.

“Indeed! We have been split in twain, brother, as Mother, Benedict, and Daphne are dining at Hastings House this evening.” The smug look was nearly as infuriating as the words themselves.

The yelp Colin produced as he finished speaking, as well as the little jolt, suggested he had been kicked, and the glare on Eloise’s face labeled her as the culprit.
“Why did you say anything? We were going to draw it out, make him wonder and ask, not just tell him outright!” Ah, so there was a plan afoot.

Colin simply shrugged, reaching down to rub his leg, “This seemed much more entertaining, just look at his face.” Eloise did turn to look at him then, and her lips did quirk up.

“I suppose it’ll have to do.” She turned to pluck Gregory’s fork out of his hand before he flicked his potatoes at Hyacinth.

“You should join us, brother. They’ve been gone for hours and there’s nothing you can do about it now. You can try again tomorrow.”

Anthony truly couldn’t tell if he was more offended at her dismissive tone or the suggestion in her words and tone that he was wasting his time, and that the entire family was just humoring him. He opened his mouth to tell her exactly what she could do with her tone and assumptions about his ability to run this family when Hyacinth’s voice broke through his mounting irritation.

“I quite like the Duke. He came in his carriage to pick up Mother, Benedict, and Daphne. And he had a lovely bouquet for Daphne! And he told us we were all invited for lunch at Hastings House tomorrow! I’m very excited to see the House!”

The innocence and joy in Hyacinth’s voice stopped Anthony in his tracks. He was not going to shout or argue in front of her. He was not. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. And if he imagined strangling two of his siblings and one obnoxious Duke, then at least he did it quietly in his head.

“I’m sure it will be quite nice, Sister. But now, tell me about your day. How have your lessons been coming along?” If left to her own devices, Hyacinth could talk until Judgement Day, and desperate as he was to change the subject, Anthony was prepared to let her. He did not fail to notice the matching smirks Colin and Eloise were sporting as he made his way to the chair a footman had pulled out. Eloise was right, he could do nothing now about Hastings and Daphne, so he would distract himself, and deal with them in the morning.

Becoming Viscount at such a young age had made Anthony a morning person. Before, he had enjoyed the ease of being heir, fulfilling his duties, but taking advantage of the fact that he need not make all the final decisions, and lead for others. Now, that responsibility was his. The duty before him now was to save his sister and family.

He was temporarily overwrought by the grandeur of Hastings House. He was cognizant of the difference in status between Hastings and himself, but he had never before seen it so starkly displayed. As he followed the Hastings butler, he tried not to allow his eyes or mind to be distracted by the largess of the house, if it could even be called that.

The knock that sounded ahead of him reminded him of his purpose. The call from within sounded casual and relaxed. Good. The last thing he needed was Hastings to be stubborn or high-strung.

The Duke was standing at a large table crowded with papers and ledgers. The surrounding shelves and one or two chairs were also covered in paper as well. He was sorting through them and muttering to himself as he worked.

“Well!” Anthony exclaimed “This is usually an ill sign. Everything alright with Clyvedon?” He knew Hastings had claimed no interest in his inheritance, but clearly, something had changed.

“Bridgerton! Let me tell you, never let your work get lax, or allow your steward to work unsupervised. Clyvedon has been run no better than a zoo, and I will no doubt be several weeks attempting to straighten all of this out!”

From anyone else, Anthony would have expected to hear that speech in an exasperated and frustrated tone. Hastings, however, seemed almost upbeat. Who could possibly be excited about having to undo the work of their predecessors?

Anthony nearly pointed this out, but he could not allow himself to be distracted further.

“I hope you can step away for a few moments. I need to speak with you.” Hastings looked up quickly at Anthony. He had likely heard the urgency in Anthony’s voice.

“Of course. Is this a matter best served with a brandy, or would that be ill-advised?” Hastings tried to smile, but it was clear that he was now as on edge as Anthony was.

Anthony flopped into an empty chair, making the same attempt at relaxed and casual. “I will never turn down a good brandy, and likely yours is of greater quality than mine.” That comment produced a true smirk on the Duke’s face as he procured the bottle and two glasses, bringing them over.

Anthony watched as Hastings poured. He did not anticipate Hastings putting up too much of a fight. As he took his glass and sat, he was confident this would be a short interview.

”This is perhaps a delicate topic. And as I have said before, I have no desire to offend you. However, it is imperative that you put an end to your connection to my sister. Whatever entertainment you had been gaining from spending time with Daphne, surely you recognize the potential threat to her reputation if this continues much longer, with no end in sight.”

Hastings had not moved, had not even seemed to breathe, since Anthony had begun to speak. His expression had frozen, though it was clear he was firmly gripping his glass. 
And if his intentions truly were respectful, he would understand Anthony’s position and put an end to this charade.

The silence continued, Hastings staring at Anthony, and Anthony trying to determine what his friend could possibly be thinking. 

Finally, Hastings took a breath and turned away as he placed his glass down. He turned back to Anthony as he leaned back. Watching as the man took another breath, Anthony was suddenly unsure about how easy this interview would be. 

Chapter Text

Daphne was not normally one to giggle or do anything less than ladylike in a drawing room, but for some reason, she was entirely unable to control her mouth. Her lips had been turned up since before she awoke, she could feel an increased bounce in her steps, and she constantly felt like something was trying to burst out of her chest. The laughter kept bubbling out in little giggles which, throughout the morning, had increasingly drawn her family’s attention, 

Eloise had clearly had enough. “If you must continue in that way, can you at least tell us what on Earth is so very funny?”

Daphne had to cover her mouth as another giggle attempted to escape. Once she thought herself capable of words, she turned to her sister. 

“Nothing, in particular, dear Eloise, I believe that I am simply in a cheerful mood. I had a truly splendid evening last night, and I very much look forward to repeating such an event.”

“We will see the Duke today, will we not? He promised to have us to Hastings House for luncheon!” Hyacinth’s eagerness was hardly less than her sister’s, and daphne was quick to reassure the girl that they were indeed scheduled to see Simon that afternoon. 

Benedict watched all of this with a quiet smile on his lips. He had already seen the limited physical affection the Duke and his sister had exchanged (at least, he hoped it was limited!) and he had seen them at the dinner table the night before. It was plain as day that the two of them were eager, not only for the physical union but the unions of their minds and souls as well, to truly spend their lives together.   

Simon held very still as Anthony’s words washed over him. The idea that he was playing with Daphne, or that he was using her was entirely foreign to him. As well as revolting! And this was how an outsider viewed his actions toward Daphne.

Crude. Depraved. Wrong. 

Anthony was Simon’s friend, he knew that, for all his flaws, Simon did not use women, at least any more than they might use him. Very often to them, he was a mark, a method for earning a living, and to him, they were good temporary bedfellows. 

And Anthony surely had learned from the situation with Berbrooke, to let Daphne take the lead in determining her own future husband, surely he wouldn’t be trying to interfere further, to make decisions for Daphne. If he was interfering now, surely he had a reason. Did he simply not think Simon was good enough for her? They were all mercenary enough to admit that rank and status were of import, and marrying within one’s sphere was of great importance. Anthony certainly could not object to the title and connection that would come with the union, so his interference must stem from another source. Was it Simon himself, imperfect, disappointing Simon, who Anthony thought unworthy of his sister?

That was always the problem, wasn’t it? Disappointing all who knew him. Not as talkative, not as outgoing, never as quick-witted. That was it, wasn’t it? 

Had Daphne said something? Last night’s dinner had been perfect! Or at least, he had thought so, with Daphne appearing to glow with joy, Benedict's quiet approval, and Lady Violet’s more vocal encouragement. But perhaps that had been it, the atmosphere had blocked Daphne from voicing her discontent. And now Anthony was here to end it on her behalf. What had he missed?!

But as he began to spiral in his panic and grief, a soft voice broke through, 

"I choose you."

While it was entirely possible she had changed her mind, Daphne would not shirk the responsibility of telling him herself. If she truly wished to end their courtship, he would hear it from her lips alone. She would not send another, especially Anthony, to dismiss him. No, Daphne had told him she loved him, and until she told him otherwise, he would stay by her side, and he would not allow anyone to drive him from her side. 

Then why not wed her?

Calling it an epiphany was perhaps an over-exaggeration. She had said this was what she wanted. He had acknowledged, if only to himself, that he did want her. The whole of society expected it. This was what they had been building towards. 

And yet the calm and relief he felt as the decision washed over him deserved no title other than an epiphany. 

He heard Anthony shift and realized he had not yet responded. Taking a deep breath, he put aside his tumbler of brandy and turned back to the man who would be his brother-in-law. 

Whether he likes it or not.

"I assure you, Bridgerton, I intend to end our courtship today. I believe both your sister and I will be pleased with the outcome." Was he fucking with his friend? Yes, but there was no doubt in his mind that it was fully deserved.

The surprise on Anthony's face was quite satisfying. He clearly had expected more resistance.

He has no idea how much resistance I shall put up for Daphne's sake.

Anthony seemed to have recovered, "Well, I'm glad you understand. Daphne has a reputation to maintain, and of course, her reputation and marriage will set the course for the other girls." Anthony was clearly trying to think of what else to say, but given Hastings' agreement, there was little else to add to the issue. 

"Of course," Simon added, "I have invited your whole family for lunch, and I am fully aware that young Hyacinth is likely to be champing at the bit to see Hasting House. Shall you accompany me to retrieve the Bridgerton Brood?"

Simon knew he needed to appear calm and unaffected, despite his racing heart and strained nerves, desperate to see Daphne as soon as possible to ask her the most important question that had ever left his lips. 

Do not stutter.

Well, that certainly didn't help his nerves.

As Anthony rose and the two of them made their way to the entrance, Simon struggled to maintain the facade. As they began the short walk through Mayfair, the only thoughts going through Simon's head were how embarrassed Daphne would be of a fiance who couldn't even get through the proposal. 

She deserves better. Do not embarrass her. 

As they were let into Bridgerton House, and the entire Bridgerton Brood surrounded him, his eyes sought out only one face. 

She emerged from the drawing room behind her mother, the smile on her face enough to send a thrill throughout his entire being.  He was aware of Hyacinth and Gregory talking loudly and quickly, but all he heard was the blood rushing from his head.

He must have moved for, quite suddenly, he seemed to be standing next to Daphne and lifted gently her hand to his mouth, her glittering eyes and glorious smile the only thing he could see. 

"Miss Bridgerton, I wonder if you would do me the kindness of allowing me a moment of your time before we journey to Hastings House?"

Though she had already been glowing, she was now practically luminous. As she nodded her consent, he realized that though he had not been fully aware of the conversation behind them, he was now fully aware of the silence that had replaced it. 

Daphne led him into the parlor and as he turned to close the door behind them, he caught Anthony's face and smirked at the shock he saw there.