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Chapter Text

It is with great privilege, I present Vauxhall’s newest spectacle of illumination. Feast your eyes above and allow all that is radiant overwhelm you.

Daphne turned her gaze upward as hundreds of lights came aglow above her in the garden. Even when she felt as dreadfully as she had for the past week, she could still appreciate the beauty amidst her graying prospects in life.
As she gasped and applauded with the people around her, she felt her brother walk up to her from behind.

“Is it not the most bizarre? Look, brother.” But when she saw her brother’s face, there was no joy, only the stoic demeanor she had gotten all too accustomed to since her coming out. “What is it?”

“Lord Berbrooke’s barony is over 200 years old,” Anthony started with hardly any feeling in his voice. “His lineage is legitimate. He has had an excellent education, possesses no debts, never hurt an animal or a woman, and is even a decent shot. To speak strictly, there is nothing wrong with him.”

“What should any of this-“

“You are to marry him.”

“Nigel?” Daphne said, barely containing the rage threatening to boil over.

“I had to find you a husband, sister. Now, be grateful it is done. It should be just as easy for you to fall in love with Lord Berbrooke as with anyone else.” Anthony said his declaration as if he was not destroying any chance at true happiness she had left in the season.

“I will not hear of this,” Daphne spat as she turned and ran from the party. Knowing she could not afford to make a scene--but could also not trust herself not to murder her eldest brother if she had to be in his presence much longer--she needed what little respite the garden could afford her. Racing through the twisting paths,she finally found a secluded space where she could pace out her frustrations in peace.

She had hardly fought her breath before a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Whatever are you doing?

Daphne turned to see the very last person on Earth she wanted to have in front of her at that moment. “Nigel, not now.” Daphne breathed, not caring about the propriety with which she should address him.

“Nigel?” Berbrooke said in a poor attempt at teasing, “Are we to drop the honorifics so soon? I suppose as your husband-“

“You will never be my husband. I will never marry you,” Daphne interrupted before the thought could go any further. “My brother, he.. he made a mistake.”

“You think yourself better than me?” Nigel sneered

“It would be best for you to leave,” Daphne said, willing her voice to remain calm.

As Berbrooke spoke, his voice got sharper with every step he took towards her. “You should be thanking me. I’m your last hope. No one wants you, Miss Bridgerton.” With his last sentence, he roughly grabbed her arms and Daphne went from being annoyed to terrified in an instant.

“What are you doing?” Daphne said as she struggled in his grasp.

“You’ll find out.”

“Stop it! Let go of me!” Daphne said, finally pushing him away. As Berbrooke once again attempted to approach with a menacing look in his eye, Daphne reacted on instinct. She threw her fist out in front of her, making direct contact with Berbrooke’s eye.

In that same split second, Daphne registered more footsteps approaching quickly and turned to find the Duke of Hastings running towards the scene.He slowed to a walk, noticing Berbrooke was on the ground.

Shaking her now aching hand, Daphne turned to the Duke saying, “Your Grace... I had no intention-“

“Of knocking the climb flat out?” Said the Duke with a smirk. “Well, I must say I’m impressed”

“What are you doing out here?” Daphne asked as she watched the Duke approach Berbrooke’s limp body.

“Avoiding certain people.”

“People?”

“Mothers. They are people, I suppose.”

Daphne glanced at the path where the Duke had walked up. “You are coming from the Dark Walk. It is merely a few steps away.”

“What do you know of the Dark-“ The Duke started.

“The Dark Walk is merely a few steps away,” Daphne gasped with a sudden realization, “and I am alone with two men.”

“I believe you are only with one man,” The Duke said as he stood. “The other is-“

“I shall be compromised just the same.” Daphne said with a seriousness no man seemed to be able to afford her tonight. “Do you have any idea what would happen if someone even suggested that I- I must go.”

She turned to leave only to hear a delirious Berbrooke exclaim “Marry me, Miss Bridgerton.”

“Now, as far as proposals go, that may be the least romantic of all,” said the Duke.

“I suppose if someone were to find me here, it would be one way out of marrying him,” Daphne said dryly.

“Oh, you cannot possibly be thinking of marrying him!” the Duke exclaimed in disbelief.

“If I am unable to secure another offer, there may be no alternative. Unlike you, I cannot simply declare ‘I do not wish to marry.’ I do not have such a privilege.” In this moment, Daphne was so exasperated with any man in her life, she would have gladly signed up to be the spinster Eloise wanted her to be.

“Yes, I was surprised to learn you no longer have a line of suitors around every square in London.” Said The Duke.

“I am in no need of your derision, sir.” Daphne stated pointedly.

“I do not mock you. I am being sincere.”

When Daphne turned, she saw in his face that he was truly genuine.

“I know of what this Lady Whistledown has written,” he continued. “I trust I possess as much contempt for the author as you do. She’s all but issued a challenge to London’s most ambitious mamas, encouraging, provoking them to-“

“Claim you as their prize?” Daphne interrupted. She could not help the irony that crept into her voice. “Do not worry, Your Grace. I believe such a win would be promptly forfeited indeed.” Eager to be done with this scene, and the mess of a night, Daphne quickly proposed their way out. “I must go this way. You, through those trees.”

“Perhaps there is an answer...” The Duke started as she turned around once again, “to our collective Lady Whistledown issue.”

With the mischief she saw in his eyes, she could not help but be intrigued. At least intrigued enough to stay in a garden with a man who could ruin her reputation simply by being in proximity with one another.

“We could pretend to form an attachment. With you on my arm, the world will believe I’ve finally found my duchess. Every presumptuous mother in town will leave me alone, and every suitor will be looking at you. You must know men are always interested in a woman when they believe another, particularly a duke, to be interested as well.”

Daphne could hardly believe her ears, her brain already turning with the hundreds of ways this could go wrong. “You presume Lady Whistledown-“

“I will presume she will deem us to be precisely what we are,” he said, cutting her off with an abundance of confidence. “Me, unavailable. You, desirable.”

“It is an absurd plan,” Daphne protested.

“I find it quite brilliant,” the Duke replied. “Provided you do not wish to marry me, and I do not wish to marry you, whatever should you have to lose?”

There was no way this could work. Daphne had no sensible reason to say yes.

And yet, she found herself walking hand in hand with the Duke, through the throngs of people, winding their way up to the dance floor. Every eye was on her. Every whisper carried her name. The Duke’s hand was the only thing keeping her upright, keeping her moving. She could hardly catch her breath from the anxiety coursing through her. This was twice as nerve wracking as coming out before the Queen herself. Daphne allowed the Duke to guide her through the crowd until she found herself facing him as the next dance was about to start. She still could not take her eyes off of the hundreds that seemed to be directed straight at her.

“Stare into my eyes,” the Duke said softly.

Daphne looked into his deep eyes and, as they bowed to each other with the music beginning. She could have sworn that past the scheming facade and exuded confidence, there was a hint of kindness to be found at the bottom of those wells.

“Here. Closer,” he said, pulling her to him by the waist, taking what little breath she had remaining from her chest. “If this is to work, we must appear madly in love.”

As the music swelled, they moved together seamlessly, twisting and turning with every perfectly timed move. When the dance brought them together, the Duke gently kept her closer than was strictly required by the dance, dipping her low, his eyes never leaving hers. She found her eyes returning to his, hunting for them even, with every twirl that turned her away and back again. All thoughts of Berbrooke, her brother, the crowds of people staring at her faded away as she followed his lead, sweeping through the dance floor together.

In the back of her mind, Daphne thought to herself that appearing madly in love might not be the difficult part of this ruse.

Chapter Text

Despite loathing almost every aspect of London society, Simon could not deny the beauty of these summer mornings in the park. Nor was his present company half as detestable as the types he had come to associate with the debutants of society. He found himself smiling and laughing, without the pretense of ruse but simply because he was enjoying the conversation. This was going much better than how he had assumed the next few weeks of his life would be when he had proposed this ruse the night before. 

He could not deny that Miss Bridgerton was attractive. But before he had caught her in the garden with that rat of a man, their only previous two conversations had been what he would generously call antagonistic. He had been afraid that he was signing himself up for weeks’ worth of berating and frustration until the girl found herself a husband. It still would have been well worth the respite from the writings of Lady Whistledown and the trappings of London’s mothers. Last night too was no judge of how the arrangement was to go. The poor girl was so nervous from the wave of attention their dances drew, not to mention likely still shaken from Berbrooke’s advances, that it was all he could do to lead her through each dance without her getting lost in herself.

But here he was in the middle of the park on a sunny morning, talking and laughing with Miss Daphne Bridgerton. 

“Eight balls,” Miss Bridgerton stated as they started to promenade through the park. 

“No.” Simon insisted, cringing at the thought. 

“Eight balls,” she said again. “You do want our plan to succeed, do you not?” 

“The purpose of this arrangement,” he reminded her, “is to keep the marriage-minded mothers of the ton at bay, not to hurl myself directly into the lion’s den.” 

“The purpose of this arrangement,” Daphne countered, “is to ensure I marry my very first season,” not flinching in the face of their negotiation. 

“I shall grant you four,” he offered.

“Six balls.”

“Five.”

“Six. And you must send flowers. Today. Expensive ones,” she said, sweetening her pot once again. Simon groaned as she continued on. “If you were truly courting me, you’d buy out every florist in town.” 

Before he could stop himself , Simon replied “If I were truly courting you, I would not need flowers, I would need five minutes alone with you in a drawing room,” as he looked her up and down, until finally meeting her eyes and seeing the evident flush that came to her cheeks. 

Dammit, Bassett, he thought to himself as he turned to look forward again. Simon attempted to clear his throat, before recovering from his revealing misstep, “I did not mean..” 

“Six balls, Your Grace,” said Miss Bridgerton as she seized the upper hand he had so clumsily forfeited. Simon did not fail to note, however, that she avoided meeting his eye as she did so. 

“Very well,” he conceded. “Though I shall see about the flowers.” He had every intention to buy flowers for Miss Bridgerton, and for her mother as well, but there was no need to let her know that and give up any semblance of negotiating power he had left himself. 

“And you must remember, no one can know about our little arrangement,” she stated, nodding to the passersby as the walked. “Nor about what happened last night with Lord Berbrooke.” 

“Ah, yes, how is your hand this morning?” Simon said with a tease, only to find no hint of humor to be found in Miss Bridgerton’s demeanor. “You must know you did nothing wrong,” he assured, with a new tone of seriousness he had not taken with her before. Ruse or not, he could not bear to think that society had failed this woman into thinking she was wrong to defend herself against an attacker, or worse that it was her fault in the first place. 

“What I know is that even the rumor of my being alone with a man, let alone punching one, will ruin me,” Miss Bridgerton said resigned. 

Placated that she too faulted society in this unfortunate equation, he did not feel the need to push it further, replying “I have no interest in causing a scandal, Miss Bridgerton.” 

“I should imagine with you it comes naturally,” she retorted with a smile, pulling a giggle from them both. As they continued their Promenade, Simon found himself for the first time in his life looking forward to that night’s ball. 

—

As soon as Simon knew he was going to be returning to London, Will Mondrich was the first, and only person besides Lady Danbury, who he informed of his arrival. He enjoyed Will’s company. He was unburdened from the title of his dukedom with Will, only caring about friendship and boxing. 

He did not, however, anticipate he would need the use of the head-clearing effects of Will’s training so soon. 

But Will’s incessant teasing about “the Bridgerton girl” did nothing to aid the thoughts of her that kept swirling around in his brain. A fact which was certainly not helped by Anthony Bridgerton himself storming in through the door. 

“Might I have a word?” Anthony asked in a tone that in no way suggested that his statement was a request. 

“As many as you like, Bridgerton.” Simon replied as he continued to spar with Will. 

“Are you going to come down here, or must I come up there?” Anthony spat. 

“My fists have taken enough pounding from your chin today, Your Dukeship,” Will said with a grin that clearly showed he found the brewing conflict between the two lords a far more entertaining prospect than continuing to beat his friend. 

Simon conceded with a grin, immediately drawing his hands back up as Anthony Bridgerton angrily charged with a swinging fist Simon easily avoided, and returned with a swift blow to the rib cage. 

“Well? What seems to be so urgent?” Simon asked as they circled each other. 

“I’d like to know what was going through your head last night and this morning,” Anthony took another poor attempt at a strike. 

“You’ll have to be more precise. A great deal goes on in a mind as quick as mine.” 

“Are you courting my sister?” Anthony asked, bluntly. 

Simon smirked. “Should I not be courting your sister?” 

“No. And I can think of dozens of reasons why, starting with, ‘She is my sister’, and ending with ‘She is already engaged to be married.’” Anthony said, slowing his rounding of the ring to approach Simon with his hands down. “And then perhaps circling back to, ‘She is my sister.’” With his last word, the Viscount swung from below, finally making contact with Simon’s face. 

He should have seen that one coming, as evidenced by Will’s laughter across the room. Teasing a school friend is always an entertaining pastime, but now Anthony Bridgerton was well and truly annoying Simon. 

“I was unaware of an engagement. Have the banns been read, then?” Simon said, bringing his fists up to circle round once more. 

“I assure you that all formal preparations are underway. I have arranged everything with Nigel Berbrooke, having given him my word.” 

Just hearing the name caused Simon to grind his teeth as he graduated from annoyed to fuming. He had to assume that Miss Bridgerton had not informed her eldest brother of last night’s events. Judging from the attitude in front of him, he understood why. He wanted to punch his friend now more than ever, for pushing his own sister away so cruelly that she could not come to him with the most basic of reasons out of this union. If Simon ever found out Anthony knew of Berbrooke’s misdeeds and was still pushing for this arrangement, they would have a very different conversation indeed. 

He used all the restraint he could muster to respect Miss Bridgerton’s apparent wishes and merely say “Well, you have struck something squarely. Your problem is that Berbrooke is an unworthy suitor for Miss Bridgerton.” He took the opportunity to strike Anthony again, hitting the same spot on his ribs from before. 

“He is perfectly decent,” Anthony replied with enough confidence, Simon knew he had not been informed of his sister’s own boxing match the night before. “He’s never seen going in and out of brothels, at least.” 

A low bar that you cannot even clear yourself, Bridgerton, Simon thought to himself as he strained to hold his tongue for fear of saying too much. 

“I even know where he’s been the past few years, right here in London.” Anthony continued with a vitriol. “As opposed to some gambling hell or backwater slum, or wherever it was you chose to fuck about for God knows whatever reason.” 

Simon stood still, as Anthony turned away, collecting himself to squeeze out words that he hoped would not reveal too much. “Nigel. Berbrooke. Is hardly a saint.” 

“You are and have long been a good friend, the best really,” Anthony said, clearly not caring what Simon had to say about the matter. Simon resolved to let Anthony talk himself out, rather than debate further and risk that which was not his to tell. 

“But this is my sister. Think of all that we have shared as friends. It is furthest from my intentions to offend you.” Anthony insisted. “But surely you can understand that family must come before all else.” 

With that, Anthony Bridgerton stormed out of the gym, leaving Simon to wonder when, in his pitiful childhood, he should have been taught such a novel concept.

Chapter Text

During the following week, Daphne continued to promenade with the Duke each morning and it was quickly becoming her favorite part of her day. With Anthony sending every suitor away and continuing to push Nigel Berbrooke onto her, her walks with the Duke were her only reprieve. 

But he was more than just a reprieve. Each time they walked together, he made her laugh and she would do the same. With him, she felt comfortable and conversation came easy. The more she got to know the Duke, the more she realized how wrong her first impression of him had been. He was witty and kind and gracious. She knew he had a reputation as a rake and while she could certainly understand why women would want to have him, he was never rude or crass when he was with her. As Saturday’s ball approached, Daphne was more excited to dance with the Duke again than she would care to admit. 

When the ball had finally arrived and Daphne entered the ball on Anthony’s arm, she found herself blushing at the sight of the Duke approaching with Lady Danbury ay his side. 

“A dance, Miss Bridgerton?” the Duke said as he walked up to her, hand already outstretched. Anthony clearly moved to confront the Duke when Lady Danbury gracefully intercepted. 

“I shall need someone else to seek me a glass of ratifia, then,” said the lady, her ulterior motive abundantly clear. “Lord Bridgerton, would you do me the honor?” Of course Anthony could not refuse the lady so he reluctantly led her away, leaving Daphne and the Duke to make their way to the main ballroom, arm in arm. 

“Six balls no more. I must have you at eight.” Daphne started immediately. The Duke had been so hard to negotiate up to six balls at the beginning of the week, but now Daphne just prayed that he would see the urgency with which she needed his protection. She dearly wished she did not have to so heavily rely on others to determine your own fate, but the Duke had already offered to help her to get a husband. Surely helping her avoid one would not be too much to ask. 

“Along with a picnic.” 

“A picnic?” The Duke replied incredulously. 

Of course the picnic would be the straw to the camel’s back. 

“I am afraid we are required to fan the flames of our charade,” she explained. 

“Because of Lord Berbrooke, I presume? I heard.” It did not take much imagination to think of how the Duke already knew of the impending engagement so soon, but she was simply grateful he caught on so quickly. 

“We must make him believe that you are on the very precipice of a proposal so that he will leave me alone,” said Daphne as they assumed their position on the ballroom floor together. Her nervous energy spilling out as she wrung her hands and continued to glance around the room. 

“I should hope I do not lose my balance, then,” the Duke said with a smile. 

“I should hope not either, for you will be glued to my side all evening,” she said returning his smile, but her nervous energy quickly returned as she continued. “And we must look like we are enjoying ourselves, as difficult as that may be.” 

“Yes, quite,” said the Duke barely containing that mischievous grin of his  as he bowed to her. 

They soon began their dance, an uptempo number that quickly had them both smiling and giggling together. 

Daphne knew that she had asked that the Duke bring an even more convincing performance tonight, but he was doing even more than that. He wasn’t just playing the part of lovestruck suitor. He seemed to be deliberately trying to make her laugh. With every extra spin he added to the choreography to the faces he made at her as they got close to each other, Daphne felt her worries slipping away and she started to remember exactly how difficult pretending to like each other was going to be. 

—

As Benedict Bridgerton swooped in to take his sister’s next dance, Simon had no question about exactly why the brother had been prompted to do so. If the Viscount wanted to confront him yet again, he was at least going to get a drink to get through it. But not even Anthony Bridgerton could ruin his good mood from the last dance. 

Despite his protestations about picnics, he was more than willing to help Daphne avoid the clutches of Berbrooke. He would have gone to a thousand balls if it guaranteed that he never laid his hands on her again. If Berbrooke was willing to attack Miss Bridgerton in the dark of a garden when they were not even yet betrothed, Simon could only imagine what he would do when she was trapped within the confines of marriage. Simon Bassett knew all too well the consequences of men who lay their hands on their wives and he would not allow that to happen to Daphne Bridgerton. 

“Perhaps I was unclear,” Anthony said as he pursued Simon on his way to the drinks table. 

“Is it your wish for me to insult your sister, Bridgerton?” Simon replied not deigning to turn around for the conversation. 

“On the contrary.” 

“You wish for your sister to marry a loathsome toad, then, ” Simon said flatly. 

“Lord Bridgerton,” a voice whined from being them. Simon smiled to himself as he heard Berbrooke’s nasally tones call for Anthony’s attention, as if his insult was so accurate it had summoned the wretched man. 

“Forgive the intrusion,” said Berbrooke, “but, if need be I will happily restate my intentions with respect to your sister. She is a prize I have long coveted. For her beauty, for her grace-“

“For her powerful right hook?” Simon said, not even attempting to pretend he was simply talking to himself. Even as Berbrooke continued, Simon could feel the tension he had introduced to the conversation between the other two men. 

Yet Berbrooke continued to ramble on. “I must know whether I can count on you to handle this misunderstanding, my lord? I certainly wish to avoid any kind of embarrassment.” 

At this Simon could not resist the urge to turn around to look Berbrooke in the face, to see just how he tried to twist his lie when the truth sat so evidently on his purpled face. It gave Simon no small measure of satisfaction to see the bruising on Berbrooke’s face was still clearly visible, despite the week that had passed since Vauxhall. “Rather late for that,” Simon said, his sarcastic tone quickly fading. 

Berbrook and his guilty conscience were not taking too kindly to Simon’s intrusions. “Are you too friendly with the Duke or are you simply too intimidated by his rank-“

“Easy, Berbrooke,” Anthony cut him off, trying to keep the peace. “I assured you I will resolve the matter, a matter which I shall remind the Duke is none of his concern.”

Simon was done pretending to have any amount of respect for the loathsome man in front of him. “Perhaps you are not the authority on what concerns me, nor on the matter of Lord Berbrooke’s character.” 

“I shall do my best by your sister, Bridgerton,” Berbrooke said attempting to ignore Simon’s intrusion. “And perhaps she might even learn to return my affections over time." 

Simon had had enough watching Berbrooke’s slimy little face contort into a smile at the thought of Miss Bridgerton “returning” his affections. He could not stand to let Berbrooke stand there, innocent in Anthony’s ignorance, when he knew the truth. 

“Oh do come off it, Berbrooke. Perhaps he failed to mention how he got that purple eye.” Simon said, staring into Berbrooke’s face with every ounce of disgust he could muster. 

“I was careless with a cabinet door,” Berbrooke tried. 

“He was careless with his honor.” Simon hoped the man could feel the hate radiating from his very core. “He attempted something last week at Vauxhall I shan’t dignify with words, when your sister planted a facer. Deservedly so.” 

Simon watched Anthony finally turn and look toward his sister in the other room. Even while dancing with Benedict, she was turning and maneuvering to keep in sight of impending altercation. 

“My lord, you must know-“

“Daphne would have surely told me if this were true” said Anthony with furrowed brows, cutting Berbrooke off as if he were not even there. 

Simon knew Anthony’s sentiment was true. He did not have a sister, but he imagined that he would feel the same. But he had also watched his friend’s behavior towards his younger sister over the past few days and had no doubt why Miss Bridgerton wouldn’t have informed her brother of the incident. Looking to Anthony as he turned back to face him, Simon hoped he conveyed every bit of sympathy and sincerity when he asked, “Would she?”

Simon watched the resolve harden in Anthony’s eyes as he put down his glass and they both stepped intimidatingly closer to Berbrooke.“You will never speak to my sister again, Berbrooke.” 

“But we are to be married!” Berbrooke stammered.

Simon had to step forward to hold Anthony back from starting a fight in the middle of a ball. As much as Simon wanted to do the same, he hardly thought Miss Bridgerton would appreciate the attention it brought. 

“You are to be buried if you so much as look in her direction,” Anthony spat. “Be grateful you will not take a punch from yet another Bridgerton.” 

As they began to walk away, Simon saw Daphne leaving in the middle of the dance to approach her brother. She briefly spoke to Anthony before he marched on, leaving her to walk to Simon with worry on her face. 

“You told him?” she whispered. She clearly had not told her brother as Simon had guessed, but he tried to assuage her fears. 

“I had to say something. All will be well, though, I assure you,” he said, reaching out to caress her arm in comfort. 

Daphne scoffed, shaking off his attempted gesture. “You assure me? Despite what you and my brother may think, I am quite capable of speaking for myself. You had no right.” 

“I was trying to help,” Simon tried to explain. 

“Well, you did not,” she said, her eyes darting around the room at anyone and everyone looking their way.  “All you did was underestimate Nigel’s entitlement. Not to mention, people are watching. You cannot assure me of anything.” With a forced smile to the whispering crowd, she walked away from Simon, leaving him feeling guilty in the middle of a ballroom. 

—

As the night came to an end and he had seen Landry Danbury to her carriage, Simon sent his own back to Hastings House without him. The walk was not far and he needed to clear his head from the night’s events.

It had started so well, dancing and laughing with Miss Bridgerton. All he wanted was to lift her clearly troubled spirits from the looming cloud of Berbrooke’s proposal, yet by the end of the night, he had instead made that cloud pour down, ruining any good he might have done before. 

He had guessed that she did not want Anthony knowing of the incident and had tried to respect her wishes. But when Berbrooke was standing so close, flinging around lies as if they were nothing while Anthony was eating them up, Simon couldn’t stop himself. He would have done anything to keep that man away from her, but he should have known the situation was more complicated than it seemed on the surface. 

As he walked, mentally kicking himself for his own stupidity, he heard another set of footsteps echoing beneath the arches of the tunnel. Turning he found himself yet again looking into Nigel Berbrooke’s wretched face. 

“Only me, Your Grace,” Nigel said, as if that fact alone wasn’t enough to make Simon want to hit him. 

Simon stepped back closer into Berbrooke. “Are you following me, Berbrooke? I thought this matter settled.”

“It was settled,” the man whined, “until you had to go and spoil it. I implore you to speak again with the viscount. That night at Vauxhall was a mistake, I admit. A temporary lack of judgement. Surely you understand that.” 

Simon did not believe for one single second that that night was any sort of isolated incident. 

“There is not and never will be any kind of understanding between the two of us. Go home Berbrooke,” Simon spat, turning back to walk away. The only thing keeping his temper in check was the knowledge that he had already failed Miss Bridgerton once this evening when it came to Berbrooke, and he was fairly certain that beating the man senseless would fall under the same category of failure. 

“But you do not need her.” It seemed Berbrooke could not stop himself from aggravating Simon. “You are a duke. You already have the money, the connections, and the standing. I need her. So why can you not just let me have this one,” he said as if marrying a woman for the rest of her life were something as simple as a game of cards. 

“Because I really think it ought to be up to Miss Bridgerton,” Simon said, not trusting himself to turn back towards Berbrooke now. 

“When I am buying a horse, I do not negotiate with the horse,” Berbrooke exclaimed, further confirming Simon’s knowledge that last night’s actions would never be an isolated incident if he were to marry Miss Bridgerton. He already thought of the woman as an animal available for auction. God knows how he would think of her when he had her. 

“Should you continue to follow me-“ Simon attempted to warn the man. 

“Why then have you not asked for her hand, if you are so fond of her, and she so smitten with you? Why have you not already proposed?”

Simon fully intended to keep walking and let Berbrooke tire out his lungs with absurdities until-

“Unless you have already had her.” 

Just when he thought Berbrooke could not stoop any lower in Simon’s opinion, Simon turned incredulously back toward the man and his scandalous suggestion. 

“If you have, you have to tell me,” Berbrooke continued even as Simon stormed back towards him. “For if I had already known she was loose and damaged, not intact, I never would have-“ 

“Stop. Talking.” Simon said, cutting Berbrooke off before he could say any more disgusting sentiments. “I shall not have you question the lady’s unimpeachable honor again.” 

“Yes. Yes, very well. That is all I had hoped to hear,” Berbrooke gulped, clearly intimidated at the taller man’s change in tone. 

“You do not deserve to breathe the same air as her. Now, go. Home.” Simon used every last ounce of his self control to turn around and try to walk away from the evil man for Miss Bridgerton’s sake. 

Simon did not know where Berbrooke found the audacity to continue speaking to him. 

“And you do? I’ve heard the stories of your father, Hastings. I know how badly he wanted a son, an heir. And I know how badly he tried to get one when it seemed your poor mother could not deliver,” Berbrooke sneered, spitting out each word in condemnation. “If anyone were to ever turn a blind eye to a man’s temporary lack of judgement, it would be you. The apple should not fall very far, should it?” 

Simon did not even realize he had swung until his fist had already connected with Berbrooke’s face. All the anger he felt both at his father and at Berbrooke’s actions that had reminded Simon too much of his father came out on Berbrooke’s face. He hit him again and again, as if each punch could erase even the smallest bit of the pain the two men had caused others. 

Chapter Text

Daphne tried to enjoy the picnic with her family. The weather was beautiful; everyone was laughing and playing together joyfully. But all Daphne could think of was what Berbrooke would do next. Lady Whistledown’s assessment of her had not gotten any kinder in the past week and she knew that between her brother and the Duke, Berbrooke would only be angrier than he was before. Thoughts of him kept her constantly on edge. She heard Anthony walking around to lay in front of her on the blanket at their camp, pulling her out of her own head. 

“I was not aware, sister, of what Berbrooke attempted. I would have helped you. You should have told me.” Anthony said as if the solution were so simple. 

She laughed. “Would you have believed me? Did you only change your mind about Lord Berbrooke because another man told you the truth?” 

Anthony seemed shocked at her evaluation of his judgment. “You truly esteem me so little?”

“After I apprised you of my wishes and you proceeded to ignore them? Yes, brother, I do.” 

Daphne wanted nothing more than to be doing anything but continuing this conversation. At that exact moment, she saw the Duke ride up into the park, like a knight in shining armor come to rescue her. She quickly stood, leaving her brother behind, and went to the Duke as he dismounted his horse. 

“You are late,” she teased. 

“Apologies,” he said, out of breath from his apparent hurry to arrive. “Should we rejoin your family at their camp?” 

“Certainly not,” Daphne said looking around for any excuse not to be around her family at that exact moment. Her hand brushed his side as she directed them towards their next targets. “We must promenade past the group of men playing their games up ahead.” 

As they started to walk, Daphne saw the Duke’s purpled knuckles that he was failing so miserably at hiding from her. 

“Whatever happened to your hand?” She asked curiously.

He paused before quickly answering “Boxing.” 

Daphne knew it was a white lie but she doubted he would tell her anyway, and so played along. “It’s an absurdity that passes for entertainment amongst men.” 

As they grew closer to the men she was supposed to be catching, Daphne’s stomach turned at trying to talk, let alone flirt, with any man who wasn’t the Duke in that moment. Despite his telling Anthony of Lord Berbrooke’s advances at the ball last night, she knew he had only done so to protect her. He had known from the start what had happened to her. Not only did he not condemn her for it, as she knew so many suitors would have, but he also wanted to protect her from Nigel, or it seemed anyone, trying anything similar again. He was the only man she trusted to care for her like that. 

Desperate to delay any games she would have to play with these men, she turned abruptly to face the Duke on the pathway. “My cuff, button it.” 

“I beg your pardon,” he asked while looking at her quizzically. 

Daphne simply continued to hold up her wrist with its last few buttons undone, hoping he understood. Yes, the closeness that fixing her cuff required could be seen as teasing the men behind her. She certainly hoped that the Duke thought so as well. The thought of him knowing she wanted to take comfort in his closeness and feel safe in his friendship for a moment already made Daphne feel pitiful. But as he softly took her wrist to carefully adjust the buttons on the delicate lace of her sleeves, Daphne could not deny that that gesture alone brought her the comfort she sought. 

“You need not feel your evident worry. Berbrooke is-“ the Duke said attempting to comfort her, whilst bringing up the very thing she wanted him to comfort her from. 

“Have you not heard what Whistledown writes of me still?” Daphne sighed. “No. Even if you believe Lord Berbrooke taken care of, our ruse is not finished. I am still in need of a husband.” 

“Though I am flattered, I am afraid I must reject your proposal,” he teased with a smile.

“Yes, I know. You are not the marrying type.” Daphne said, rolling her eyes. It was not the first time in the last few days that she thought were the Duke not so adamant about never marrying, there may have been feelings to be had between the two of them. But the point was preposterous so she simply continued to tease. “Yet have you considered you are not the type women wish to marry?”

“I do suppose if I were forced to take a wife, you would be the least objectionable option,” he countered. 

“Was that meant to be a compliment?” She asked, actively willing her brain not to consider the scenario. 

“Yes. Yes, it is,” he replied. “But it is no matter for you wish to marry for love, do you not?”

“Of course I do,” she said as her own breath threatened to catch and betray every emotion running through her head. Finding his eye contact all too piercing to be comfortable, she once again turned to their ruse for distraction. “They still looking?”

Daphne watched as his teasing eyes swept past her own face towards the group of men. But almost immediately she saw his face blanch, expression inexplicably turning to worry and something else she could not place. She didn’t look away, simply trying to discern the cause from his face alone, until she heard the awful voice of Nigel Berbrooke screech “Bridgertons!” behind her. She quickly turned and saw him storming towards her family’s camp, his face three times as purple and cut as it had been from her single punch at Vauxhall. It took no large deduction to connect the state of Berbrooke’s face to the state of the Duke’s hand. As she whirled, she realized what the other emotion in the Duke’s face was: guilt. 

“What have you done?” She said as she turned to race back to the Bridgerton camp without waiting to see if the Duke would follow her. 

“I bring cheerful news, Bridgertons,” Nigel said as he waltzed his way into their camp. “I have taken matters into my own hands and sought a special license for my wedding to Miss Bridgerton.” 

“There is to be no wedding,” Daphne breathed, terrified of where this conversation was about to go. She felt the Duke come to stand behind her and she wanted desperately to reach for his hand to find some anchor of peace in this moment. 

“I have told you the arrangement is canceled ,” Anthony hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

Her mother did not need all her powers of perception to determine that some kind of scene was about to be made and attempted to temper it as best she could. “Lord Berbrooke, you look in a great deal of pain. Shall we continue this conversation in a more private location?”

“I require no further conversation, though, perhaps I am finally speaking to the true head of the Bridgerton house. For if it were you,” Nigel jeered at Anthony, “I imagine you would have instructed your sister to take better care than to encourage certain attentions while alone with me on the Dark Walk at Vauxhall.” 

In one statement, Nigel had managed to insult her mother and her brother while revealing, however untrue his descriptions might be, to her entire family that they had been alone together that night. Nigel’s retaliation was worse than Daphne had even dared to imagine. 

“Of course,” he continued, “mere hearsay of such a scandal could wreak havoc on even the most influential of families. What would someone like, say, Lady Whistledown do with such unseemly information?” 

“Is that a threat?” Anthony snapped. 

“It is certainly not, because, in three days, I am to marry. I have the Diamond of the season. I have the very best the ton has to offer. I have a Bridgerton . And I shall save her, as well as your entire family, from the ruin which you could not protect,” Nigel said as he slammed the license into Anthony’s chest with his last word. 

Simon moved around her to confront Berbrooke himself but Benedict quickly sped forward to hold him back. Just the few steps the Duke managed to take made Nigel flinch. She wished it was enough to bring her comfort. 

“I look forward to the union of our great families,” Nigel said loudly to cover for his reaction to the Duke. 

Daphne could hardly even hear Berbrooke acknowledge her brother and the Duke on his way out of their camp with the way her heart was pounding in her chest. She could hardly even breathe. As her mother and brothers jostled each other to try and determine the legitimacy of the document and any other details they could discern, Daphne was left standing at the edge of the camp, staring at some spot on the blanket, trying not to collapse into sobs in the middle of the park. 

She suddenly felt a warm hand gently grasp hers and she looked up into the Duke’s soft brown eyes that were so full of worry and guilt. 

“I am truly sorry,” he said, sounding as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. 

“No,” she whispered, looking back to the ground. “You could not have known-“ 

“But I should have-“

“It’s all right. I will be fine” she said, her quivering voice betraying any kind of confidence she hoped to put forward. 

“Look at me,” he said as he put a soft hand under her chin and gently raised her gaze to meet his. “You will not marry that man. I will not allow it. I promise you.” 

His voice was so kind and so sincere Daphne could almost believe him.

Chapter Text

Simon pushed his horse faster than was safe for the middle of the day in the middle of London, but he did not care. As soon as he had tried to talk to Daphne, promised to protect her, her family had swept between them, ushering Daphne into a carriage and home to Bridgerton House with the rest of her siblings in tow. Once their carriage was out of his sight, he turned and ran off to find where the footman had taken his horse. With Berbrooke already gone from the scene, all he could do was follow the Bridgertons to their house and pray they could find a solution. 

As he pulled up in front of Bridgerton House, he dismounted without caring to check if the attendants were taking his horse and raced inside. Running up to their nearest butler he asked panting, “The Viscount. Where is he?” 

Simon knew that rushing in and asking to speak to Daphne was improper and would have likely been ill-received given events of the past day. But he could speak with Anthony and hopefully find a way out of this mess that they were both at least partially responsible for. The servant nervously pointed towards what Simon guessed was the office Anthony kept at the home so he barged right in. Anthony was pacing and Simon could see the shards of at least one shattered glass at the foot of the opposite wall. 

“Hastings.” 

“Well?” Simon said 

“Well, what?” Anthony countered.

“Are you going to challenge him?” Simon tried to keep himself from yelling. 

“Why, are you here to offer to be my second?” 

“Yes,” Simon replied without giving it a second thought, “or if you won’t, I will” 

“Well, I’m not. And you can’t either,” Anthony said gruffly

“Why the hell not?” Simon was shouting now, incredulous as to why Anthony thought he could let such an offense go without retribution. 

“Because Daphne doesn’t want me to, and she had a pretty good reason.” 

“So now you care what Daphne does and does not want,” Simon spat. 

“Are you looking for an apology? I do not owe you my regret at ever trying to connect my sister with that fucking bastard and that I didn’t just listen to her wishes the first time. But that isn’t the problem right now, is it?” Anthony said as he sat down in a chair, with his head in his hands, speaking to the ground. 

“I’d say it’s precisely what the problem is now.” 

“Well, I can’t change what I did. So we just have to go from here.” 

Simon sighed as he sat opposite Anthony, pouring them both a drink. “So why exactly doesn’t Daphne want us to duel him?”

“Because even if I, or we, I suppose, were to duel him, it is no guarantee that Berbrooke won’t open his tiny mouth and tell everyone before we meet—which would leave Daphne just as ruined as before, but with one less brother around.” 

Simon scoffed, “You really think bumbling little Berbrooke would win?” 

“No. But even if I won, dueling is still illegal, and I would have to leave the country, which leaves Daphne with one less brother either way,” Anthony said as he eyed the bruised hand with which Simon was handing him a glass. 

“Speaking of beating Berbrooke, I suppose you were to thank for the new spots of purple Berbrooke was sporting this morning.” 

“Yes, well, the lord decided that our conversation was not over after last night’s ball and I had to remind him that it was,” Simon said as he threw back his own drink. 

“Good.” 

“So, if you cannot duel, what are you going to do?” 

“At the moment?” Anthony asked.

“Yes.” 

Anthony’s head returned to his hands. “Let Daphne marry Berbrooke.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Simon was once again on his feet. 

“I don’t have any other choice. I cannot duel him, he already has the license to marry, and if I do not give my blessing for this marriage, I expose not only Daphne but the rest of my sisters to ruin as well. I cannot allow that.” 

“So you will sacrifice Daphne in hopes of sparing your other sisters?”

“Unless some other magical solution presents itself in the next 3 days, yes, I am. I don’t expect you to understand. You have no family. Daphne is unmarried, therefore, Berbrooke is legally within his rights to propose. And after his threat at the picnic today, there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Well, you are right about one thing, Bridgerton. I don’t understand.” With that Simon, whirled around, exiting the office before he beat a second man in two days. But as he walked out of Bridgerton House, something else Anthony said stuck in his head and the very slightest beginnings of a plan were starting to take place. 

—

Daphne sat at her mirror as chaos ensued around her. Flowers that had been garnishing her room were now being taken away by the basket. Her mother had come and talked with her, trying to bring comfort, as if a warm house and the potential for children could make up for marrying that horrid man. A man she feared. A man who had been in her nightmares since Vauxhall. She could not bring children into such a union. How could she protect them if she could not protect herself? 

She was vaguely aware that most of the servants had vacated the room leaving only Rose to unpin her hair and get her ready for sleep. Daphne caught her own eye in the mirror and it hurt to see the fear that was in them. 

“What am I to do?” she whispered.

“What was that, Miss?” Rose inquired. 

“I know I have to marry him, Rose, I know that I do. But how am I to live with it? How can I bring children into a marriage already filled with such poison?” Daphne cried, tears spilling over as she laid her worries before the girl who had been with her for so long. 

“Oh, it’ll be alright, Miss. I’m sure of it,” Rose said grabbing her hand. “You are strong, you will find a way through this. And as for children, there are always ways of preventing that.” 

Daphne’s head jerked up. “Wh- What do you mean? How could you prevent children?”

“Well, you do know how a woman comes to be with child, Miss, don’t you?” Rose asked delicately. Daphne sat for a moment before shaking her head in confusion. 

“Oh, in that case, I don’t know that I am the one to-“ 

“No please, Rose,” Daphne said, grabbing her hand tightly. “No one else shall tell me and I cannot know how to avoid it if I do not know how it happens in the first place.” 

Rose looked at her for a moment before nodding and sitting on the chair beside her. 

“When a man and a woman perform the marital act, an exchange is made,” Rose said slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully. “The product of that exchange is a child.” 

“What sort of exchange? What-“ Daphne said, still confused. 

“Let me explain further. You know that men and women have different anatomies?” asked Rose. Daphne nodded. That much, at least, she did know. 

“For a woman, her private anatomy is where her courses flow from,” Rose continued. “But it is also where children are birthed and where they are made. In the marital act, the man’s anatomy will enter the woman’s and-“ 

“Does it hurt?” Daphne interrupted, shocked by the idea. 

Rose hesitated. “It can, especially the first time.” Rose paused,  “Once the man has entered, he will thrust to work himself up to a peak. When he reaches his peak, he will release his seed inside the woman. That seed inside a woman conceives a child.” 

“Does it… always result in children?” Daphne said, thinking of her own family with 8 brothers and sisters. 

“Not always,” Rose admitted. “Some people try their entire lives and it never results in children. I have an aunt. She lives in Greenwich with her husband. They’ve been married for ten years now and have never been blessed with children, but they still are to each other as husband and wife. Theirs is a happy union.” 

“Because they love each other,” Daphne whispered mournfully. “At least they have that” 

Rose looked at Daphne with pity in her eyes. “But it is the only way you can make a child. Which means if you desire to avoid children, that is what you must avoid. There are some herbs and teas you can consume that may help, but they are no guarantee. The only way to truly avoid children is if he does not finish inside you.” 

Daphne nodded, trying to take in the mass of information Rose had given her. She paused long enough for Rose to stand and take the remaining pins from her hair. Rose gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Miss,”

With that, Rose exited the room. As Daphne crawled into bed, she lay staring at the ceiling trying to think about anything but her impending wedding and dreaded husband. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Simon was early to the park where he and Miss Bridgerton had done their promenade each morning since their ruse had begun. They had planned to meet again today, but he could only hope that she still showed after the events of yesterday’s picnic. 

It felt like an eternity before he saw Miss Bridgerton come around the corner with some unusual company: Benedict and Colin Bridgerton. He could not stop his heart from turning at the way her face lit up at seeing his own. He tried to tell himself that it was only because it at least slightly increased the chances of her agreeing to his absurd plan. 

“Your Grace,” she said softly as she took his outstretched arm. 

“No Mama today?” He asked, noticing that her two brothers were following them at a much larger distance than her mother and Lady Danbury had been. 

“She is taking tea with the Queen this morning.”

“A great honor,” he said with a hint of sarcasm floating in his voice.

“Yes, well, the invitation was received when the Queen thought I was about to be engaged to a duke, not a... lord,” she said bitterly, clearly having more choice words than “lord” to call Berbrooke. He gently squeezed her arm in an attempt to comfort her. 

“You should not have lost your temper with Lord Berbrooke,” she continued, chastising him in a tone that clearly indicated she was more concerned for him than for Berbrooke. 

“You should know something about me, Miss Bridgerton. I never tolerate a bully.” 

Daphne slowed, her hands tightening into fists in frustration. “And I never wanted this ruse to fail. I wanted to take charge of my own life, my own destiny. Yet here I am, engaged to the most vile man I have ever met, who tried to-“ 

Simon gently wiped the tear that had escaped onto her cheek as they walked on. 

“You do not have to marry him,” Simon said as firmly yet gently as he could. 

“What other choice do I have? Let my sisters suffer and be unable to find a good match as well? Condemn them to the same fate? Everyone is looking for a solution but there is none. Anthony wanted to duel him, which would not solve anything. Mama seemed to think that the Queen could help her find a way to rid me of Berbrooke,” Although she put on a brave face, Simon could tell that Daphne was struggling to keep her emotions in check. “Even if they found some scandalous past -which after that night in the garden, I have no doubt that there is something- it would not matter. Because Berbrooke is a man and a lord and that is all that really matters.” 

Simon watched as her chin wavered and heard her voice shook while she tried to keep her stoic facade. They had walked into a more private part of the gardens with much less traffic. He pulled her down onto a bench to rest and collect herself. Benedict and Colin were still chaperoning them but, although they were within eyesight, they were well out of earshot and wrapped up in their own conversation, seeming to know of the couple’s need for privacy. 

Hands shaking as he reached for hers, Simon was nervous to present his proposed plan. This plan was absurd. It was the most desperate attempt at a rescue. It would change everything, not just for her, but for his life as well. He would be breaking his vow to his father. If he broke this part, would he be able to break the rest? Would he want to? 

But, if she agreed, it would mean that Daphne Bridgerton was safe. And that mattered more than any vow he had made to hurt his wretched father. 

“What if-,” his voice was barely above a whisper, staring at his hand holding hers, “What if there was a solution, a real solution, that meant you would never have to marry Berbrooke? Would you take it?”

“What solution could you have possibly found that my mother and brothers could not?” She said sadly, not believing she had any hope. 

Simon took a deep breath. 

“Marry me instead.” 

He looked up to her face to find her eyes wide with disbelief. She was so shocked he could not tell if she loved or hated the idea.

“But- But-“ she stammered.

Simon could see her mind racing with a thousand different questions. 

“But you said you would never marry?” she finally said.

“I did.”

“And now you are sitting in front of me asking me to marry you instead of the man I am engaged to?” she questioned. 

“Would you rather marry the man you are engaged to?” Simon said dryly

“Of course not!” 

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up” Simon quipped. 

“But you do not want to get married!” Daphne protested. 

“I didn’t want to marry. But I also said that I would protect you from Berbrooke and I would do anything to keep that promise. Marrying you would keep that promise.” 

“How?” asked Daphne seriously. She looked as if she were ready to stand and walk away from the second least romantic proposal she had heard in the past week. 

“Scotland. Gretna Green ,” said Simon. 

“Everyone knows of Gretna Greene , Your Grace. Couples elope without needing any license or permission. But I fail to see how an elopement solves my problem. You are just substituting one scandal from another.” 

“In a way,” Simon conceded. “But an elopement would affect your sisters far less. It would give you the protection of being married to a duke. Being a duchess will make people talk and care less about what scandals you may have accrued. You will have more power than the ton and they will wish to stay in your favor. That power gives you protection, even more than being the sister of a Viscount or the Diamond of the season.” 

Daphne stared into his face trying to determine what new trick was being played on her. “But what about Nigel? He could still tell everyone.”

“He may not want to cross a duke, especially after our encounter after the ball. And even if he does, the talk of an elopement will drown out any lies Berbrooke attempts to spout.” Simon smirked playfully, “Besides, his rumors wouldn’t stop me from marrying you.” 

Daphne gave him a small smile before looking away, hands wringing, weighing what he said. Simon sat in silence with her for a few minutes, letting her take in every aspect of his far-fetched plan. He wasn’t sure she was even going to talk again when she turned towards him slowly, looking him in the eye, and said “Why?” 

“Why, what?”

Daphne looked back down at her hands. “Why didn’t you want to get married before?” 

Simon sucked in a breath. He knew this question was coming. He wasn’t going to marry her without telling her at least something. But that didn’t make the question any easier to answer. 

“M- My father was a cruel man,” Simon started, already resenting his stutter coming out with his nervousness. “He cared more about the continuation of the Hastings line than anything in the world. More than my mother. More than me.” Simon paused,  “it cost me my childhood. It cost her her life.” 

He felt Daphne gently grab his hands and looked up to see tears forming in her eyes. He pressed on before he started crying himself. “When I stood at his deathbed, I made a vow that his efforts would be in vain, that the Hastings line would end with me. I would never take a wife and never bear children.” 

Simon stopped, not because there was no more to tell but because, if he shared anymore, he would cry and that was not something he wanted to do in a public park with two Bridgerton brothers in sight. 

“I’m so sorry,” Daphne said, squeezing his hands. 

“There is more to it than that and you deserve more of an answer than that.” said Simon, his voice cracking. “But please do not ask me to speak of it now, not here.” 

“Then why have you changed your mind?” Daphne asked. “I did not know your father, but I do know you. I know that he must have hurt you deeply to make you take a vow like that, and I know you would want to keep that vow. Until this conversation, I believed that you still did not want a wife.” 

“You,” Simon said simply. “You changed my mind. I could not live with myself if you had to marry Berbrooke. Not after what I saw him do to you or what he has said to my face, especially when I feel that my own temper is somewhat to blame for his swift escalation.” Simon continued earnestly, “you being safe, and not subject to that man’s cruelty, means more to me than keeping a vow to spite my father’s own cruelty. I know that you wanted a love match. You wanted to marry a man you love with your family surrounding you. You deserve that and this could not be more different. But I promise you. You will be cared for and protected. I will be the best husband I can be to you, and I would never lay a hand on you. It is not much, but it is what I can offer. It is a way out. Should you want to take it.” 

“You also said that you vowed to never have children,” Daphne said, turning her head out into the gardens with a nervous look on her face. “Is that still a vow you want to keep?” 

There was an agonizing moment of silence as she waited for him to answer. 

“I don’t know,” said Simon softly. Daphne turned quickly to look back at Simon’s face. 

“I am willing to break the vow to my father and I have come to peace with that decision,” Simon said, taking his turn at gazing down to the ground instead of meeting Daphne’s eyes. “But there was more to the vow than just spite of my father. I would not wish my own childhood on anyone. I know that you grew up surrounded by love, from your parents and your siblings, but I had nothing of the sort. Children deserve love and support and I don’t know what that even looks like, let alone how to show it. I would not want to have a child until I knew that I could perfectly love them as they are. I don’t know if I will ever be ready for that. I wish I could give you more than a maybe but that is all I can give.” 

Simon paused for a moment before continuing. “I understand if that is not enough for you, but my offer still stands. If you do not want to go through with this, just say the word and I will walk you back to your brothers and let you go in peace.” 

The Duke watched as Daphne’s face took in his answer and saw the resolve harden behind her eyes. 

“I will marry you.” 

“You will?” Simon said, shocked. Of course, he hoped that she would agree but somehow her answer still came as a surprise. 

“Yes. You are right that this is not what I imagined but this is better than marrying Nigel.” She spit his name out as if it were a curse. “So what is the plan?” 

Simon spoke quickly, feeling the urgency and knowing they were running out of time alone before Daphne’s brothers would be obligated to retrieve her. 

“We need to leave as soon as possible. Until you are married, Nigel could still try and drag you back to London and force you to marry him instead if he found us. It will take about three days to get to Gretna Greene if we ride fast. It won’t be the most luxurious mode of travel-“

“That doesn’t matter to me,” Daphne interrupted. “You have a plan and I trust you. When should we leave?” 

“There is a ball tonight. Will your family be attending?” he asked. 

“Yes, it is when Nigel plans to announce our engagement. They will expect me to be there, of course, but if I feign illness, I could make sure they go in my stead to keep up appearances,” said Daphne, quickly catching on to Simon’s plan. 

“Then I will come to you during the ball. We will ride to an inn just outside London. The roads are not safe to travel at night so we will sleep there, and then leave at first light.”

“It is decided then,” Daphne said suddenly standing, forcing Simon up with her. “We will leave tonight. Now, Your Grace, I think you must walk me back towards my brothers so that we do not raise suspicion, and that I may prepare to leave.” 

Simon smiled as he took her arm. 

“Before we return, I have one condition,” he said. 

Daphne looked solemn as she stammered “You have- I don’t-“

“That you call me Simon. If we are about to embark on a scandalous adventure together and by the end, we will be husband and wife, you should call me by my name.” 

“Very well... Simon,” Daphne said with a poorly suppressed laugh as they began to walk back. 

“Is there something funny about my name?” He teased. 

“No. No. It is a perfectly fine name.” 

“Oh, perfectly fine?” he smiled. “Very well... Daphne.” 

Chapter Text

As Daphne shut the door to her room, her heart was pounding out of her chest. This morning, she had woken up resigned to the fact that she was going to have to marry Nigel Berbrooke to save her sisters and her whole family. Now, mere hours later, she was going to elope with the Duke of Hastings. With Simon. She gave herself the briefest moment to attempt to process all that had happened in one afternoon. She knew that she did not know the full history between Simon and his father but Daphne was honored that he was willing to share the small glimpse that he had, even being willing to answer her probing questions.  She had asked about children, expecting a definitive no, that she would have to reconcile with never having children. Even the ambiguity offered in “I don’t know” gave Daphne a hope she hadn’t dared to have. He had said that he did not know what a selfless love looked like but Daphne thought of how many times he had already shown her he could care for someone unconditionally and wondered how he could not see that in himself. She hoped she would someday be able to put that into words to convince Simon of his own ability that was already there.

She could have sat there for days thinking about their conversation. Instead, she collected herself and focused all of her energy on packing a bag. Her travel bag was kept in her closet behind her dresses. She had never had to pack her own things for travel before but she could not ask Rose for help now. If her family found out that Rose knew of her plan and kept her secret, her place in the family’s household could be in jeopardy. No, Rose needed to remain as in the dark as possible. 

As Daphne tried to put together her bag from memory of what Rose had done in the past, another thought occurred to her. There was a flaw in their plan that Simon failed to account for: Her brothers’ reaction when they came home from the ball to find her missing. They would be on a manhunt immediately and if they found Simon and Daphne before they made it Scotland, their plan would be ruined. She needed a way to let her brothers know they did not need to pursue without giving them enough knowledge to spoil the plan. 

A note would reveal too much, or be misinterpreted making matters worse, or simply missed altogether in the chaos her disappearance would cause. She needed someone who knew of her plan but who would not suffer the consequences as Rose would. 

She needed Eloise. 

Not wanting to leave her bag unattended for someone to see, she simply opened the door to her room and asked a passing servant to summon Eloise. After about a minute, Eloise strode in, notebook in hand. 

“Since when do you summon me, sister? Have I done something wrong? Does my dress for tonight’s event not fit your ladylike standards?” 

Daphne quickly shut the door, grabbed Eloise’s hand, and dragged her to the bench at the foot of the bed. 

“What are you-“

“Eloise, please. I need you to listen to me very carefully and I need to trust that you will keep what I am about to say in the strictest confidence. Can you do that?”

“What do-“ 

“Can I trust you?” Daphne pleaded, more serious than she had ever been with her younger sister. 

Eloise paused, finally noting her sister’s demeanor. She slowly nodded her head as she sat down on the bench next to Daphne. 

“You know that I am being forced to marry Nigel Berbrooke in 3 days time?” 

Eloise nodded. 

“Everyone has been trying to find a way out since the picnic to no avail.” Daphne paused. There was no going back from this. Once Eloise knew, she could ruin the entire thing if she decided to tell someone. Daphne could only hope her sister respected her wishes enough to let her leave in peace. “Until now” 

Eloise’s eyes widened but she said nothing.

“Si- The Duke and I have come up with a plan to save me from marrying Berbrooke. We are going to run away. Tonight,” Daphne pressed on despite seeing that Eloise wanted to interrupt and ask a thousand questions. “We will go to Scotland to elope. Once I am married to the Duke, legally Nigel must stop pursuing me.” 

Eloise sat for a moment before saying, “Do you want to marry the Duke?” 

“As an alternative to marrying Berbrooke? Without question,” Daphne hesitated. “But even beyond that, I... care for the Duke. I enjoy his company and the time we have spent together. I know he does not love me. But I know we can be happy together which I know would never happen with Nigel.” 

“Then I am happy for you,” Eloise said, “What do you need from me? I assume that is why you are telling me and risking my running to Mama as soon as I leave your room.”

“I do need you and I hope I can trust you to not do that,” Daphne said with a scowl at her sister. “I am going to feign illness before the ball tonight during which time, the Duke will come and we will leave for Scotland. My request is two-fold. I need you to first help me convince the family to go to the ball tonight and leave me here. If I am not alone in the house, all of this will be for naught.” 

“I can’t believe I am going to convince someone to actually go to a ball, but I will do my best for you, sister. What is your second request?” Eloise asked seriously. 

“When you return to the ball and find that I am gone, our brothers will be furious and will want to pursue. You must stop them. Tell them enough to let them know I am safe but I need you to give me at least a day’s headstart to dash any hopes of them finding us.” 

“So you want me to lie to our mother and brothers for you and thwart their efforts for at least 24 hours so you can rebel and elope with a duke?” Eloise grinned. “Gladly.” 

— 

In an effort to keep up appearances until the last possible moment, Daphne had allowed Rose to do her hair and dress her in one of her simpler dresses. All the while, her fully packed bag was tucked neatly under her bed, out of sight. 

She started to walk down the stairs to the foyer, made eye contact with Eloise, and then grabbed her head as if in pain. 

“Are you alright, sister?” Anthony asked, stepping to help her down the last few stairs. 

“I have a headache. It has been coming on for a few hours now but it seems to have gotten worse in the last few minutes.” 

“We don’t have to go to the ball tonight, dearest,” Violet said quickly. 

“No, you must go. We cannot afford to provoke Nigel any further. Even if I am not there, you must all be there to placate him in my stead.” 

As everyone in her family started to speak at once, each with their own excuse, Daphne saw Eloise take a deep breath before stepping to Daphne and putting an arm around her. 

“Come on now. Daphne is sacrificing so much for us, we can sacrifice one miserable night for her.” 

Her family stopped and turned to look at each other. Eloise gripped her arm tightly in the silence until Anthony finally spoke. 

“Very well, sister. You go upstairs and rest. We will attempt to cordial for tonight. Nigel can announce your engagement in the morning. He should be able to grant us that much at least.” 

With a kiss on her forehead and an encouraging word from the rest of her family, she watched as they made their way out the door, into their carriages, and onto the ball. As soon as she was sure they were not coming back inside, she turned and ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. All the servants had already been dismissed for the night which left Daphne to squirm out of her dress on her own. Their absence would also allow her the stealth she needed to go to Simon’s carriage with as few eyes as possible. 

Once she was in her best gown for traveling, she sat at her window, watching for Simon’s carriage so she could intercept it before a servant recognized him and opened the door. Just as dusk turned to night, she saw a familiar sight coming down the street. She quickly grabbed her bag and made her way through the house, the same way she did when they were children playing games to hide from their parents in the summers, making her way through the house unseen. She quietly opened the door, snuck through, and closed it again behind her. Before he could get directly in front of her house, she cut him off, the carriage slowing when his footman saw her. When they were at a full stop, the door swung open to reveal Simon as he popped out to help her into the carriage, handing her luggage to his footmen as they entered. 

He did not, however, close the door behind him. When Daphne gave him a quizzical look, he took a deep breath before saying, “If you want to get out, if you want to leave, I want to give you the opportunity now. The last thing that I want is for you to feel forced into this plan. That is what Nigel tried to do to you and I will not do the same. This is your choice and I will not make it for you.” 

Daphne took a second to take in his words, the care behind them. Even in the most terrible circumstance, just that simple sentiment, that he wanted her to have a choice, made her feel safer than she had with any other man. Daphne leaned forward and grabbed the door herself, shutting it swiftly, her eyes never leaving Simon’s. 

Simon smiled gently as he rapped twice on the ceiling of the carriage and they started on their journey.

—

Eloise had been standing in the middle of the foyer for the past 3 minutes waiting for the inevitable discovery of her sister’s disappearance. She closed her eyes as she heard her mother say Daphne’s name louder and louder each time. She felt her elder brothers rush past her. After letting them panic and search the upstairs for another five minutes, Anthony finally came down the stairs, bellowing, “Where. Is. Daphne?”

“Oh, I know where she is.”

Every head turned towards her. The house that had been in chaos moments earlier was now as silent as the grave. Anthony, getting over his shock, stepped towards Eloise. 

“Would you like to share with us where our dear sister is?” 

“No, I don’t think I shall,” Eloise said with a grin. 

“I’m sorry?” Benedict was now stepping into the ring. 

“She is safe. That is all you need to know. But I shan’t tell you any more than that no matter how hard you try.” 

With that, the house erupted into a chaos twice the force that it had been before. Violet, Anthony, Benedict, and Colin Bridgerton were all yelling their own demands over each other into her face. Their shouting awoke Gregory and Hyacinth who came down the stairs, shouting asking what was happening. All while Eloise Bridgerton stood in the middle of the foyer with the biggest smile on her face. 

This was going to be fun.

Chapter Text

Simon hardly spoke as they rode. They were almost done with their hour ride to an inn he knew would keep the arrival of a Duke and an unmarried debutant quiet. They could not go any farther than that in the dark. Simon kept looking from the floor to his hands to the windows, only occasionally daring to glance at Daphne’s face. Every time he did, she continued to look out the window, her eyes misty but the tears never quite falling. 

Simon hated himself even more than usual. While he was ready to put the full force of hate towards Nigel Berbrooke for what he had tried to do to Daphne, Simon knew that he was more to blame for the situation than Daphne would ever admit. He had suggested the elaborate ruse they started that night, instead of letting Daphne leave in peace as she suggested, which left Nigel to read all about Daphne’s glowing romantic success the morning after. Simon only furthered that embarrassment by going against Daphne’s wishes to expose Berbrooke in front of Anthony and then angered him again during their confrontation in the tunnel. Simon had provoked Berbrooke every step of the way. Without his interference, Nigel may have faded away letting another simpler suitor make his way into Daphne’s life. Someone she could actually love. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts he did not realize they had arrived until his footman opened the door. He scrambled to put out his hand in time to help Daphne down the steps, before following her. The innkeeper was already outside and nodded to the Duke as he stepped out. This inn was close enough that Simon had been able to visit that afternoon to arrange their lodgings for the night. He followed Daphne up the stairs as the innkeeper led them to their rooms. 

“I requested two rooms,” Simon said as the innkeeper pointed to two doors immediately next to each other. Simon could not read her expression as Daphne simply nodded and went into one of the rooms. It was not much, Simon knew, certainly different than anything she ever would have stayed in before. The walls were thin and the beds were small. But they wouldn’t be found and they could leave first thing in the morning. Simon put her bag down in her room before awkwardly nodding himself as he ducked out the door. 

He flopped down on his own bed, hands covering his face. Simon knew that he was protecting Daphne but he wished there was a way to do so that didn’t make her so unhappy, didn’t cause her so much pain. Barely caring to get out of his travel clothes, he got under the covers and stared at the ceiling knowing he would not sleep tonight. 

Simon wasn’t sure how long he had been like that, prone on the bed staring at nothing before he heard a faint yet consistent sound coming from the other room. Daphne was crying. He tried to leave her in peace, but as her cries got deeper with every sob, Simon could not stand it any longer. He stood quickly, pausing only to quickly put on pants over his nightshirt. He opened his door and turned to gently knock on hers. As soon as he did, the crying stopped but she was still breathing so loud he could hear it through the door. 

“Daphne,” he said softly, “are you alright?” No answer, only breathing. He put his forehead against the door. “I already know you’re awake. Please just let me in.”

Still no reply. He sighed, “I’m going to open the door. If you want me to leave, I will but please-“ 

He slowly opened the door to find Daphne curled in on her side, facing the door, her face and pillow clearly stained from the tears that continued to fall. 

“Oh, Daphne,” he breathed. He could not stop himself as he took the few steps to kneel at the side of her bed. He wiped what he could of the tears from her cheeks and ran his fingers through her fine hair, brushing it from her face. 

“Please tell me what’s wrong. Do you want to go home? I can take you back. I can-“ 

He was cut off by Daphne grabbing his hand, her eyes now squeezed shut. Simon watched as she slowly sat up, swinging her legs to hang off the edge of the bed. Guided by her hand, he moved to sit next to her on the bed, almost in the same position they had sat on the bench just this morning. He sat and waited as her tears continued to silently fall, occasionally bringing his other hand across to wipe her face. Just as the silence was becoming too much to bear, he was going to try and speak again. 

“Daphne-“ 

She cut him off, her voice barely above a whisper and wavering as she spoke. “I don’t- I don’t want to go home. I just wish-“ She took another shaky breath. “I just wish my family could be here.” 

With that, her sobs returned stronger than ever. He reached around her heaving shoulders and when she curled into his chest, arms wrapping around his center, he did not stop her. He simply held her tighter and let her feelings pour out. After a while, Daphne pulled back trying to summon her composure again. 

“Oh, I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ Daphne whispered, gesturing to his now tear-soaked shirt. 

“Its fine,” he said. Simon could not have cared less about the state of his shirt. All he wanted was for Daphne to be okay. He was hesitant to leave her side at all but he also knew the next few days would not be kind to them and they should take any chance at sleep they could. “You should... really try and get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.” 

Daphne nodded and moved to return under the covers. Simon stood and helped lay the blanket over her, but as he moved to walk away, she reached out and desperately grabbed his hand. He turned to see her eyes wide staring up at him.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked in a voice so soft Simon almost thought he imagined it. Simon hesitated. Even if nothing untoward happened, which Simon would never even dream of initiating, Daphne sleeping in the same bed as a man she was not married to would ruin her should anyone found out. On the other hand, they were already on their way to elope which would likely negate any scandalous happenings on the way there. 

“Are you sure?” he asked just as softly, wanting to give her every opportunity to turn him away if she wanted. But Daphne simply closed her eyes and nodded fiercely. 

“Okay.” 

With the little room he had, Simon manuvered around to the other side of the bed and carefully lifted the covers to slide himself in. He lay nervously on his back, completely stiff, not daring to move. As she curled up on her side facing him, he moved only his neck so he could see her face. Under the covers Daphne reached out and grabbed Simon’s hand, squeezing it tightly. 

And in the dark of the night, as he listened to Daphne’s breathing slow, sleep washing over her, Simon could have sworn he heard her say “Thank you.” 

—

Daphne awoke to a quick rapping at the door. A quick glance at the window showed the purple haze of incoming dawn in the sky. They needed to leave soon if they were to make it to their next stop by nightfall. It was only then that she realized her current position, In the night, she had curled closer to Simon so that her arm now lay across his chest. She looked up to see Simon already awake and looking down at her but his expression was unreadable. 

“We should get going if we are to make it to the next in by nightfall,” Simon said, not moving a muscle. 

“Yes,” Daphne whispered. 

“I’ll just- leave you to dress then,” Simon said awkwardly as he dashed from the room before either of them could mention a thing. Daphne gave herself a moment to lay on her bed and try to process the night before. He had been so kind and gentle. Simon made her feel safe, as always, and she reveled in the moments of comfort he had granted her. She knew he did not love her. She never expected him to return the affections she could no longer deny she held. But if all their marriage consisted of was the occasional comfort on a hard night and an assured safety during the day, Daphne could be content with that. 

With only a slight struggle, Daphne dressed herself in her simplest traveling gown and met Simon at front of the inn. He held out his hand to help her into the carriage and they were on their way. 

“How far are we going today?” Daphne asked.

“If all goes well, we should make it to Sheffield by nightfall,” Simon replied. “Then, if we leave Sheffield the next morning, we should get to Gretna Greene by afternoon and…”

“And we will be married by nightfall,” Daphne finished. For a moment, Simon looked as if he was going to say something, but instead, he just nodded and turned to gaze out the window. Daphne turned to look out of the opposite window trying not to cry. She could not blame Simon for his obvious reluctance to go ahead with this plan. If she were being trapped into a marriage she didn’t want because she had to rescue a girl who couldn’t save herself, Daphne wouldn’t be happy either. His proposal in the garden clearly meant he was doing this out of duty to her as a gentleman. He was so honorable he was willing to break his vow to his father. He was even considering children.

She thought of Anthony and his opera singer that only he believed to still be a secret. Even Simon had the reputation for being a rake and, to the mothers of the ton, that only made him more desirable. Yet here she was forced to risk scandal simply because a man threatened to tell others they were briefly alone together without a chaperone. Unconsciously, she began to clench her fists only to stretch them back out again, a habit she’d had since childhood, getting faster and faster the angrier she got.

Daphne was so lost in her own thoughts she did not hear Simon saying her name until he reached over and put his hand on top of hers.

“Daphne, are you alright?’ Simon asked, concern clear in his face. 

Daphne quickly brought her traitorous hands back and folded them properly in her lap again. “Nothing. I’m fine,” she said more curtly than she meant to. 

One glance at Simon’s face told Daphne he did not believe her. “Daphne, do you need something? Should we stop?” 

“No, I don’t need anything.” Daphne’s patience was wearing thin as her voice got louder with every question Simon asked her. 

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Simon continued to push, “Please just tell me. Wha-“

“It’s just NOT FAIR!” Daphne shouted. 

“What isn’t?”

“You!” said Daphne without thinking. Simon quickly sat back, his face mixed with confusion and hurt. “No! I’m sorry,” Daphne said quickly trying to recover from her misspoken error. “I didn’t mean- It’s not that- I cannot find the words.” In frustration, Daphne ran both her hands over her face trying to wrangle her thoughts into coherent sentences Simon could understand. 

To her surprise, when she came out from behind her hands, she found Simon merely looking at her, patiently waiting for her answer. She had expected anger or that he would now be ignoring her altogether. But instead, he seemed to have held all judgment from his face until she spoke again. 

“I did not mean to offend or accuse you, Your Grace,” Daphne started slowly as she found the words. “I am not angry at you . I am angry at how you are treated.” At this, Simon looked at her quizzically. She was not making things any clearer for him. She tried again. 

“What I mean to say is that I am angry at the imbalance between the men of society as opposed the women. We are here, forced into this plan because it is nearly the only way out of the ruin that would come upon me and my entire family if Nigel told anyone that we were simply alone together in the garden that night.” Daphne scoffed, her anger blossoming. “Meanwhile, Anthony flits about town with his opera singer every night, paying for her every need.”

“You know about her?” Simon said with a bit of a laugh. 

“Please, the only person who thinks that woman is his secret is Anthony.” Daphne had momentum now, her words finally coming together into coherent thoughts. “And You haven’t even attempted at secret. I know that you have been with plenty of women, raking about the continent and so did everyone else in the ton. Did that make you an unfit match for marriage? You had so many mothers falling over you that you came up with an insane ruse just to rid yourself of them. Why do you and my brother and any other man in town get to do whatever they want without consequence while I am left for shame and ridicule for being alone with a man I did not even want to-“ Daphne’s voice caught on her last sentence and she turned her head down, her thoughts leaving her again. She waited for Simon to answer, having absolutely no idea what he might say in response.  

“You’re right,” Simon said as Daphne looked up in surprise. “I am not… proud of everything that I did in my ‘raking about the continent’ as you so eloquently put it.” Simon briefly gave her one of his rueful smirks she had come to love seeing before continuing on. “And I certainly do not think it was any kind of preparation to be a good husband. I wish that society did not condemn women for the same acts that they praise men. I wish that they would see Nigel Berbrooke for what he is and that you could be free to continue finding a better husband than me. It is not fair and I am sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. I should not have taken my frustrations out on you” Daphne said with a small smile. 

“Even so,” Simon replied, with a shrug. “I am sorry.”

As they continued on in a more comfortable silence than before, Daphne thought about Simon’s notion of finding a better husband than him. She could not think of another suitor she had entertained over the past weeks that would have answered her frustrations with the same respect and care that Simon just had. Daphne was not as confident as Simon that she could have found a better husband than him, even if she had been allowed her entire season. 

Chapter Text

Daphne sat as they traversed along the long road to Gretna Greene, her head full of a hundred thoughts at once. She thought about how she had found herself on this path in the first place and came up with every way this could go wrong. What if Nigel found them before they reached Scotland? What if Anthony did and challenged Simon to a duel? What if Simon decided he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life stuck in a marriage he did not want? Where would that leave her? 

She also thought about what her life would look like if Simon did follow his word and married her. She was content to at least love her future husband from afar, never wanting to force her affections on him when he was already being forced into so much. There was a chance they could have children together but it was a hope that Daphne tucked away deep into her heart. She was afraid that if she let it grow too much it would burst and she would be left with nothing but the broken dreams of a family and life she once wanted. 

This time tomorrow, she would be married and heading into her wedding night. The entirety of what she knew of the marital act was from her conversation with Rose just a few days earlier. She was so confused and anxious about what tomorrow would entail. If it was required to have children, would Simon even try with her? Or would he feel obligated to consummate the marriage out of duty? Everything just seemed so clinical and apparently painful she had no idea what she could even expect for tomorrow night. 

Daphne was so distracted by her own thoughts she did not notice that daylight had faded until the carriage came to a stop. 

“We’re here,” Simon said, extending his hand to help her down. She stepped out to see a dimly lit inn at the edge of a small village. It looked rougher than Daphne expected, with several men lingering around the front, bottles in hand. But before she could panic, she felt Simon’s hand at the small of her back, comforting and protective, leading her in the door. They walked up to the innkeeper who was sitting at a table in the far corner of the main room. 

“Two rooms, please,” Simon requested. 

“I’ve got one room, not two,” said the gruff man, not even looking up at Simon. “You can take it or you can leave.” 

Simon stepped forward, his hands leaving her side. “Sir, I am the Duke of Hastings and-“

“I don’t care if you’re the Queen ‘erself,” the man interrupted. “I only have one room.” 

Simon grit his teeth. “I will pay. Handsomely.” 

As the two men had their standoff, Daphne looked around the room. She found only men who were even rougher than the crowd loitering outside. More than one of them was looking at her with a look in their eye that sent a chill down her spine. 

“Well, I suppose I have a tenant or two who owes me rent that I could kick out,” the innkeeper conceded, hungry for more coin. “Let me see here…” 

“It's all right,” Daphne said quickly. She grabbed Simon’s hand tightly as she spoke. “You don’t have to displace anyone. We can make do with one room.” 

“Daphne…” Simon whispered, giving Daphne a quizzical look. She looked back into his eyes, squeezing his hand hoping he understood how much she did not want to be left alone in this inn tonight. After a moment, Simon simply nodded slowly before turning back to the innkeeper. “One room will be sufficient.” 

“As you wish, Your Grace,” said the man with a sinister smile as he stood to lead them upstairs. He opened the door to a modest room with a single wide bed in the middle and a fireplace with two chairs at the other end. “More fun for you anyway.” 

Daphne’s head whipped around as the man closed the door behind them, unsure by what he meant but his tone did not make her particularly inclined to find out. As she turned back around, she found Simon standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

“Daphne, Are- Are you sure you don’t want me to get another room? I am happy to pay the man.” 

“No,” Daphne said firmly. “You didn’t see the way the men in that room were looking at me as you negotiated. I am much more comfortable sharing a room with you than spending the night knowing they are just out there waiting for-“ 

“Daphne, I’m so sorry,” he said, stepping to her, putting his hand on her arm. “I didn’t realize. I would never let-“ 

“I know you wouldn’t.” She put her hand over his and smiled, her eyes falling quickly to the ground. “But it is much easier to… protect me if you are already here with me.” 

“Very well,” Simon said, determination clear in his face. “I will let you ready yourself for bed while I see if there is any sort of meal to be had in this establishment.” 

Daphne nodded as he walked past her and shut the door behind him. She quickly removed her traveling clothes, put on her nightdress, and pulled on a simple dressing gown to cover herself just in time for Simon to knock softly at the door. She opened the door to let him in, two bowls of soup in hand. 

“It's not much,” he said awkwardly. 

“It’s fine,” Daphne responded, taking a bowl from him with a smile. They sat by the fireplace and quickly returned to the uncomfortable silence they had ridden in all day. After they had finished dinner, they were left with the task of determining sleeping arrangements. 

As Daphne went to sit on the bed, Simon remained standing at the fireplace. “I will sleep here in the chair. You need not worry about-“ 

“Simon,” Daphne admonished, growing weary of his commitment to noble sacrifice, “we have been traveling all day and will do nearly the same tomorrow. I am exhausted. You must be too. Please just come sleep in the bed with me.” 

“I couldn’t-“ Simon tried to protest. 

“You can,” Daphne said with a sigh, as she moved under the covers. “We are to be married tomorrow, Simon. I believe we can drop the formalities for one night.” She turned on her side, closing her eyes. She was too tired to fight him on this tonight. If he wanted to be stubborn and sleep uncomfortably, that was his choice. She could barely keep her eyes open, but as she drifted off into sleep, she heard the ruffling of clothes and felt the bed move beside her as her soon-to-be husband conceded and fell into bed beside her. 

—

For the second night in a row, Simon found himself sleeping next to Daphne Bridgerton, trying his best not to move or disturb her in any way. The night before had left Simon more conflicted than ever. He wanted nothing more than for Daphne to be safe and happy and while she kept telling him that she was, he also had to spend the night next to her just to comfort her from the loss that she was suffering in this arrangement. If Simon could think of any other way, any other solution that would leave Daphne safe and happy and with her family as she wanted, he would give it to her in a heartbeat, even if it meant he was no longer in the picture. But he had no such solution. So he lay beside Daphne, willing and waiting to protect her from whatever he could along the way.

Despite the fatigue plaguing his body, a light sleep was all Simon could find. But his gentle rest was soon interrupted by a sudden movement by his side. He sat up and found Daphne sleeping restlessly, quickly tossing and turning. Even in the dim moonlight, Simon could see that sweat had already gathered on her temples, her face twisted in a panicked grimace. 

“Daphne,” he whispered, reaching out to gently shake her shoulder. “Daphne, wake up.” When she still didn’t wake, Simon hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt her but it seemed her own dreams were the more pressing matter. He bit his lip before grabbing her arm and shaking her again, a bit firmer this time. She sat up with a gasp, breathing heavily but clearly still disoriented. When she realized his hand still on her arm, she flinched, pulling out of his grasp. 

Simon’s hands went up, showing he was not reaching for her again as he tried to bring her back from whatever dark place her mind had taken her. “Daphne, it’s me, it’s Simon,” he said softly, not moving a muscle. “You’re with me at the inn. We are on our way to Scotland. We are going to Gretna Greene.” Simon was relieved to find that with every sentence a bit more recognition seemed to come back into her face. By his last sentence, Daphne was nodding and when he finished, she flung her arms around his neck, silently crying into his shoulder as she struggled to catch her breath. Simon immediately returned the embrace, gently rubbing her back as he soothed her. 

“It’s okay. You’re alright,” he whispered over and over again until her breathing slowly returned to normal. Not letting her out of his arms, he pulled back to look at her still teary eyes. As he brushed her hair out of her face, he asked “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Daphne sat staring at her own hand, placed in the middle of his chest, exposed by his open shirt. He watched as her brows scrunched together and she slowly started to nod. 

“Okay,” he said simply, not pushing for an answer. He waited until she cautiously began to speak, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I was back.. in the gardens… at- at Vauxhall,” she started. From that Simon could guess where her nightmare had taken her and he had to stop his blood from boiling at the thought of that man. “Nigel was there, trying to talk, grabbing my arms like he did before. Only this time, I couldn’t hit him or push him off and he wouldn’t stop and you weren’t there and-“ As Daphne began to hyperventilate, Simon pulled her back into his chest, soothing her. 

“It’s alright,” he said, holding her tightly. “It was just a nightmare. He can’t hurt you again.” 

“I’m sorry I pulled away from you,” she said quickly. “But when you were holding my arm, I thought- I-“ 

Simon put his hand beneath her chin, pulling her gaze up to meet his. “You have nothing to apologize for, especially not to me, okay?” Her eyes softened and tears started to gently fall again as she nodded back to him. “Do you think you can sleep again?” he asked. Daphne hesitated, looking back at her pillow, biting her lip. 

“Could you hold me?” Daphne said in a voice so small Simon could hardly hear it. 

“Of course,” he replied. He put his arm down behind him, slowly lowering himself back down into the bed. Daphne’s arms never left his chest. She curled herself around him even tighter than the way they had woken up that morning. Her head rested on Simon’s chest until Daphne’s breathing had slowed to match his and the only sound in the room was their breathing in sync with one another until he heard her voice in the dark. 

“Simon?”

“Yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

“For what, Daphne?” 

She paused long enough that, for a moment, Simon thought she had fallen asleep. 

“For being safe.” 

Chapter Text

Dearest Readers, 

While many felt last night’s ball a success, one could not ignore the whispers that flew around the ballroom as the night went on. It soon became apparent that not only was our Diamond of season conspicuously absent from the night’s events, despite her family’s presence, but the eligible Duke of Hastings was missing as well. We have all grown so accustomed to watching them dance around each other at every ball that their absence was sorely felt. This was only made stranger by the rumors of an arranged engagement between Miss Bridgerton and Lord Berbrooke after the morning’s picnic. There are strange happenings about the ton as of late and a scandal is sure to be found somewhere about. But never fear, dear reader, for I will always find the truth to be shared with you all. 

~ Lady Whistledown. 

--

~ the day before at Bridgerton House ~

It had been nearly twelve hours since the Bridgerton family had returned from the ball but the household had become no less chaotic over time. They had tried for hours to get Eloise to relent and give up Daphne’s location but it had been a long time since Anthony or Violet Bridgerton could get Eloise to do anything she did not want to do. Anthony had tried threatening her with never coming out into society at all to which Eloise had replied, “Oh, do you really promise? You are the most wonderful brother.” which infuriated him so much he had to leave the room. Her mother had tried to negotiate in the opposite direction, saying that she would make Eloise come out at the very next ball. But as that was inevitable anyway, especially once they realized Daphne was married, it did not phase Eloise either. By the time morning came, Eloise could only recall getting a few stolen moments of sleep on various chairs and couches throughout the night between rounds of familial negotiation. At some point, she had been changed from her formal wear into more comfortable house clothes but that was the extent of her comfort for the night. 

Eloise now sat in the drawing-room, sandwiched between Colin and Benedict as they watched their mother and eldest brother fret over the latest Lady Whistledown publication that had arrived just moments ago. Colin was dozing on her shoulder as she leaned on Benedict’s, grateful for the support. 

“You know, this whole thing could be over if you simply told us where Daphne went,” Benedict said in hushed tones, both for Colin’s sake and to avoid being heard by their mother and brother. 

“But where would the fun be in that?” Eloise teased, the jest not quite reaching her tone through her exhaustion. 

“Eloise,” Benedict chided. “We are all worried for her. We just want her safe.” 

“ You may want her safe. Mama and Anthony are more worried about the safety of the Bridgerton name,” Eloise said. 

Benedict frowned at his sister as best he could, given their awkward position. “You know that is not true, Eloise. And even if it were, that would not mean they were not also worried about Daphne.” 

“I know,” Eloise said with a sigh. “But I made her a promise. Daphne has almost never asked me for anything in her life. I want to at least try for her sake.” 

“What could possibly be the reason to not only leave her entire family without warning but to go to such great lengths to hide her whereabouts once she had left?” Benedict asked the question almost to himself, as he looked to the ceiling with his head on the back of the chaise. He was not interrogating Eloise; he was simply trying to puzzle the situation out for himself. Maybe that was why, after an entire night of questioning, Eloise finally started to crack. 

“Could you not think of any reason, brother?” Eloise asked, trying to see what conclusions he had already come to. “Can you think of nothing in the past few days that would cause Daphne to take such rash and uncharacteristic actions?” 

Benedict looked at his sister quizically as he slowly answered, “Well, there may be a few things.”

Without saying anything else, Eloise sat up, turned to her other brother, and carefully moved his head from her shoulder to the back of the chaise. Colin was so thoroughly asleep that Eloise thought she could have stood straight up off the couch and he wouldn’t have stirred. Anthony and Violet had moved into his study to dissect Lady Whistedown’s papers which left Eloise to walk out into the garden undisturbed with Benedict close behind her. 

There was a cool morning breeze that was keeping the true heat of the summer at bay for the moment. Eloise sat down on her favorite swing as Benedict sat down on its twin, a position they had often found themselves in before. As children, he had pushed her on that swing every summer and as they got older it became a place for late-night contemplation away from the crowded house. They sat in silence for a few moments before Benedict spoke.

“I know you’re smarter than just about all of us put together, Eloise. But it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots between Nigel Berbrooke and Daphne’s running away. The why isn’t the issue here. El. It’s the where. We want her to be safe” 

“She’s going to be safer now than she would have been with Anthony letting her get married to Berbrooke. And she’s only going to stay that way if I keep her secret,” Eloise replied. 

Benedict furrowed his brow. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?” 

Eloise paused. She was willing to go down fighting for Daphne in this battle but there was only so much she could do on her own. As much as she hated to admit it, Anthony and her mother were wearing down on her and she needed an ally almost as much as Daphne had the day before. 

“She’s on her way to Scotland.” 

“She’s WHAT?” Benedict said, nearly shouting as he turned to face her. 

“With the Duke of Hastings.”

Benedict stood and started pacing in front of Eloise. She watched as he had a conversation with himself faster than she could track but she was just grateful his pacing wasn’t taking him directly to Anthony’s office. Eloise could only stand it for a moment before cutting her brother off. “Benedict, please say something instead of digging a trench in the garden with your pacing.” 

“Eloise, why in God’s name would Daphne run away with the Duke of all people?” Benedict said, as he finally sat back down onto the swing again. 

“You said it yourself. It’s not hard to connect the dots between Daphne leaving and Berbrooke’s proposal. The Duke was just the one who actually offered her a way out,” Eloise said. 

“Eloise,” said Benedict slowly. “Where exactly in Scotland is the Duke taking Daphne?”

“Gretna Greene.” 

Benedict was up again. “How could you- How could she- Anthony is going to go mad when he finds out.”

Now Eloise was up as well grabbing her brother by the shoulders. “Which is why he cannot find out.” 

“Eloise, exactly how long do you think you are going to be able to keep Daphne eloping a secret?” Benedict said in a forced whisper.

“Just until this afternoon.” Benedict looked even more confused now but Eloise pressed on before he could berate her with more questions. “Daphne doesn’t need forever. She just needs enough of a headstart that no one would be able to stop them before they get to Scotland. So Benedict, please , for Daphne’s sake, you cannot tell Anthony yet.” 

Eloise stood in front of her brother with her most pleading eyes, the same look she used to give him when she wanted sweets as a child. She watched as his face slowly processed what she had asked of him until she could see that twinkle in Benedict’s eye that he got when he decided to be just as mischievous as her. 

“Alright, fine,” Benedict said with a smile. “But if he does not know by tonight, we must tell him.” 

“Deal,” Eloise said. The was finally going to be a bit more bearable with someone else in her corner. 

-- 

The day dragged on as Eloise continued to be interrogated by Anthony and her mother, with only glances at Benedict to support her. By afternoon, the news of Daphne’s absence from London had started to spread amongst the ton which meant that her mother’s time was now being spent fielding messages from everyone who was anyone trying to find out what details they could. As the sun finally set on the longest day of Eloise’s life, she looked across the sitting room at Benedict who slightly nodded. Anthony had long since left the rest of his siblings to sulk in his office without a solution so they would have to go to him. Benedict stood with Eloise, kicking Colin, who had once again managed to fall asleep, as they walked out and gestured for him to follow. The three siblings crossed the house to Anthony’s study with Eloise in the lead and her two brothers immediately behind her. As she stepped into the office, Anthony looked up from his desk to glare at her. 

“Unless you are finally ready to confess, dear sister,” he spat, “I don’t know why you are continuing to bother me.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m going to tell you where Daphne is then,” Eloise said smugly, enjoying the grief she was bringing to her brother today. 

“You are?” Anthony said as he stood up from his chair to walk around the desk to her. 

“You are ?” said Colin who was also still in the dark on the entire situation. 

“Yes, I am and I hope you will react rationally when I do so.” Eloise heard Benedict snort behind her but she continued on. “Daphne has gone to Gretna Greene with the Duke of Hastings to elope.” 

“SHE WHAT?” Anthony yelled. 

“Went to Scotland to elope with your childhood best friend,” Benedict so helpfully added from over Eloise’s shoulder. 

Anthony stood very still for a few moments, anger radiating off of him, before crossing back to his desk and pulling out his pistol. “I’m going to kill him.” Anthony ran out the door before any of his siblings could stop him. They tried to follow but by the time they reached the front door they could already see Anthony’s horse riding away in the distance. 

“Is he planning on riding on horseback all the way to Scotland?” Colin said incredulously.

“Our brother has never been the best at thinking things through,” Benedict said, clapping Colin on the shoulder. “Let’s just hope that that will slow him down for us.” 

“For us to what?” asked Colin. 

“For us to pass him and get to Daphne first,” said Benedict as he turned to ask the footman to ready a carriage as swiftly as possible. 

“You cannot!” Eloise exclaimed. “Not without me at least.” 

“No,” Benedict said sternly as he turned to face her again. “Mother would kill me if I took you and I don’t fancy an early grave, El. She already has one runaway daughter. You cannot give her two.” 

“I can and I will,” Eloise said standing her ground. “Daphne trusted me with this. I am going to be there when she deals with the fallout.” She stood face to face with her brother for the second time that day but this time she stared him down with every ounce of stubbornness in her body until he finally relented. 

“Fine! You can come,” Benedict said with a sigh. “Go upstairs and pack a quick bag - you too Colin - and we will meet back here in 10 minutes. If you are not in front of this house in 10 minutes, I am leaving you behind Eloise Bridgerton.” 

“Deal,” Eloise said as she raced past her brother into the house. As she packed her bag, Eloise could only pray that by some miracle they could reach Daphne before Anthony did. She loved her brother dearly but she also knew him well enough to know that even three days on horseback would not be enough to cool his temper. Grabbing her packed bag, she raced back down the stairs and out the front of the house where an empty carriage was waiting for her. She hopped in, feeling a bit of smug pride that she had beaten both of her brothers back outside. As they both tumbled out the door a few moments later, she stuck her head out the door to call out to them in an elevated whisper.

“If you don’t get into this carriage, I’m going to leave you both behind” 

Chapter Text

Everything seemed a blur. Simon remembered awakening silently next to Daphne, his heart shattering just for looking at her. Then there was the carriage ride and the man at the bridge who directed them to the blacksmiths shop with haste. He looked down at the rugged steel ring wrapped around his finger that matched Daphne’s more delicate one, as he remembered the quickly rehearsed words spewing from the man’s mouth. He had been staring down through Daphne’s long eyelashes, silently willing her to meet his gaze as she stared down towards the ground. The only indication she gave of his presence was the increasingly tight grip she had on his hand. He would’ve let her squeeze his hand until it broke if it brought her the slightest bit of comfort. When he finally reached down to kiss her, it had been the softest most sincere kiss he had ever experienced. It would’ve been a perfect one if he couldn’t also feel the silent tear that had escaped her eye.

He now found himself in front of a solid wood door on his wedding night. He had been clearing up the arrangements with the innkeeper and now all that was left was to open the door and meet his bride. He was shaking with fear, more nervous than any duel or boxing match or anything he had ever been a part of had ever made him. He was a failure and he had dragged the most wonderful woman he had ever met with him on his way down.

Simon reentered the room awkwardly. He found Daphne sitting at the end of the bed in a simple night dress. Even from across the room, he could see her hands shaking. They had had a long day between riding to Gretna Greene and getting married, but this was obviously more than just tiredness at the end of the day. Something was bothering Daphne.

“Daphne, are you-“ Simon started only to be cut off abruptly by Daphne suddenly standing from the bed where she sat. She faced him but did not meet his gaze.

“I know that a wedding night is important. It is all anyone ever talks about when it comes to marriage. I do not pretend to know everything that happens on a wedding night, but I am- I am ready.” Daphne’s chin jutted out defiantly, eager to present confidence she clearly did not have.

“Daphne,” Simon whispered as he stepped slowly towards her. He slowly reached out his hand to grab hers and she grasped his hands as tightly as one would grab a line thrown to a drowning man. He led them both to sit on the edge of the bed where Daphne had been before. Sitting together still holding hands, Simon spoke as softly and as gently as he possibly could.

“Daphne, what exactly did you think was going to happen tonight?”

She met his eyes with a look of confusion that told Simon she had not expected to be asked her opinion about anything tonight.

“I- I know,” Daphne started with the smallest voice he had ever heard her speak, “I know what needs to happen to perform the marital act, I know that it must be done on the wedding night to consummate the marriage and I know-“ She looked to the ground no longer meeting his gaze. “I know it will hurt.”

Simon closed his eyes as tightly as he could. He was filled with rage at the society and the events in her life that led to her standing here believing that she had no choice or would find no pleasure in something that should be beautiful and personal. He needed a moment to collect himself before he could answer Daphne simply because he did not want her to mistake any of his anger to be directed at her.

“Daphne,” he said gently, putting a hand on her cheek to move her gaze to meet his. “Please hear me when I say this. As your friend and as your husband, I would never do anything you were not truly ready for or that would hurt you. The marital act is not something that should ever be hurtful or harmful to you and it should never happen without your consent.”

“But I told you I’m-,” Daphne tried to interrupt.

“You cannot be ready for, or consent to something, you do not understand,” Simon said. “The marital act should be wonderful and pleasurable for everyone involved including for you. Especially for you. It is not some duty that you have to fulfill as a wife. You do not owe me anything tonight or any night.”

At this, Daphne let out a sob of relief, all her nerves and fears of the past few days coming out at once, and Simon held her to his chest as she fell towards him. After a moment, Simon was surprised when she turned her entire body and moved to sit on his lap. She seemed to be seeking any and every bit of comfort she could from him and Simon would never deny her that. After a minute or two, her crying slowed and Simon said the words he knew would pain him but had to be said for Daphne’s sake

“You deserve to be with someone that you love and do this with someone you love and I cannot take another thing away from you”

She pulled away from his chest to look into his face, wearing an unexpected look of confusion.

“Simon, wait,” she said and it thrilled Simon to hear how much of the fear had dissipated from her voice. “What do you mean take another thing away from me?”

He stared back into her eyes feeling that they were now on the same level of confusion with each other. “I took your marriage from you. You dreamed of marrying for love with your family surrounding you. You dreamed of a house full of laughter and this could not be more different.”

“But you didn’t-“ she tried but Simon plowed on.

“I provoked Nigel. It’s my fault he kept escalating. If I hadn’t started the ruse, if I hadn’t exposed him to Anthony, you wouldn’t be here crying because you are being trapped into a marriage you did not want“ He stopped as her small hand came up to touch his cheek.

“Simon,” she said softly. “I do not blame you. Nigel was vile long before you arrived in London and I imagine he will continue to be long after you are gone. If anything, I am trapping you. If I hadn’t agreed to your ruse, you wouldn’t be in a position to feel obligated to rescue me, breaking your vow to your father in the process.”

“That’s not-“

“Plenty of girls every season are matched with a man they do not love and you aren’t offering to elope with them. The only difference is a falsified ruse that placed you too close to a bad situation so you felt you had to go against everything you stood for and marry a girl you do not even love because she was careless enough to be in that garden alone.” Seeming to understand the implications of her words, she moved to get off Simon’s lap.

“Daphne,” he breathed, as he reached out to pull her back to him. He was gentle, simply squeezing her with the arm that had fallen down to her waist and reaching out with the other hand to bring her face to his. If she truly wanted to get off of him, she could have without a doubt. But instead he felt her relax into his touch, closing her eyes as he brought their foreheads together. He stayed there for a few moments collecting his thoughts until he trusted himself not to stutter.

“First of all, nothing that Nigel ever did or threatened to do to you is your fault. You already proved why it was not my fault; now you need to give yourself that same grace. Secondly, from the moment I saw him grab you in that garden I knew I was going to protect you. Not because you could not protect yourself, a fact made fairly obvious by your perfectly placed punch.” At that Daphne giggled, still keeping her eyes closed and their foreheads together. Simon would do anything to have her make that sound again.

He paused, his voice threatening to break and stutter. Daphne pulled back and looked up into his eyes patiently waiting, never pressing for a faster answer.

“I told you my father was a cruel man. He was the reason my mother died giving birth to me. She had had 5 other pregnancies before me and had lost each one. After she lost a child, he would beat her. Sometimes the beating is what caused her to lose the baby. By the time she was pregnant with me, her body was so weak from the beatings and the lost children that it couldn’t go on past the birth and she died mere moments after I came into this world. Every time Nigel grabbed you or threatened you or even spoke about you when you were not there, I saw my father in his actions. I knew what your end could be if he was allowed to have his way. And I could not live with myself if I had stood by and allowed that to happen to you. Not because you were just some girl with whom I was playing a ruse. Because I- I-

“I love you, Daphne Bridgerton.”

He dared to glance at her face only to find her eyes shining and a smile slowly returning to her face. It was all the encouragement he needed to continue on.

“What started out as a ruse, became so much more. You are so easy to talk with and laugh with, something that has never come easily to me before. The more I came to know you as a friend, the more I realized I was falling in love. I’m sorry to say it took Nigel Berbrooke storming into your camp at the picnic to realize how I truly felt. I did not just want to rescue you from being Nigel’s wife, I wanted you to be my wife.

“But once I discovered that elopement would be able to stop Nigel’s advances, I did not know how to tell you. I never intended to confess my love so soon, if at all. You have already had one man use his feelings for you to put you in an impossible situation. I didn’t want to be another. But I cannot sit here and have you think that I am simply here out of duty or that I do not truly and deeply care for you. Nothing could be further from the truth. I do not expect you to return my feelings nor do I have any expectations as to what this marriage will look like beyond being responsible for your safety and care. That is entirely on your terms. I am here in whatever capacity you will have me, Daphne Bridgerton, because I love you too much to ever do anything else.”

He waited, watching as she processed everything he had laid down before her, not daring to move until she did. Suddenly, she pinched her eyebrows together the way she did whenever she made a decision, and before Simon could even react, she grabbed his face and brought it down to hers for a soft but confident kiss. Simon reveled at the touch, trying to contain his body from jumping for joy at her simple kiss.

After a few moments, she pulled away and said, looking into his eyes, “And I love you, Simon Bassett.” No sentence had ever sounded so good to his ears.

“From the moment you came up to me in that garden, you made me feel safe and cared for when no one else, particularly no other man, was making me feel the same. Every time you made me laugh while we walked or held me close as we danced, my heart melted a little more. I tried to push away every thought, every dream of you because until this moment I did not dare to hope that you could ever return my affections. Even when you proposed elopement that morning in the park together, I was content to love you from afar and hope to someday repay the kindness you have shown me.”

Tears continued to stream down her face, for sadness or for joy Simon did not know, but he took her brief pause to gently wipe them away and brought her face up to his for another gentle kiss. As they parted, he pulled her close to his chest and she nestled her head on his shoulder, her arms wrapping around him. They stayed like that, finding comfort in each other and the confessions they had shared, for a while until Simon pulled her from him with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“Come,” he said, as he pulled her gently down so they were both lying down on the best, their gaze never leaving the other. Daphne’s breath hitched as his hand moved to lightly graze his way up and down her side. She looked up at him with eyes wide with desire and anticipation. If she kept looking at him like that, they were never going to leave this room, let alone Scotland.

“Do you want-“ Simon croaked, the words getting uncharacteristically caught in his throat.

“Yes,” Daphne breathed as she grabbed his face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Simon couldn’t help but smile at her unlearned yet unbridled passion.

“You don’t even know what you’re saying yes too,” he chuckled, never quite ending the kiss.

Daphne pulled back quickly with a puzzled look on her face. Simon could tell she was moments away from embarrassment which was the furthest thing from how he wanted this night to go.

“Daphne,” he breathed,as he took her face in his hands. “Can I show you?”

The anxiety dissipated as she slowly nodded her head, her eyes filling with that desire and curiosity once again as he shifted on top of her until she lay on her back underneath him. Keeping his weight off her with one arm, he let the other slowly graze down her again until he reached the hem of her nightdress. He kept eye contact with her as he slowly inched the gown up her thighs looking for any sign of hesitancy. Instead, he found himself laughing once again at Daphne’s impatience as the gown was barely halfway up her thigh before she reached down and ripped the entire thing off herself.

But the laughter soon melted into a groan in his throat as he saw Daphne Bridgerton - no, Daphne Basset - laid bare before him for the first time. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, so perfect just for him, in his entire life.

“Daphne, you’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped before kissing her so passionately, he wondered if she would break. But she met his passion in stride, moaning as his hands found her bare breasts, massaging them fiercely. “If I do anything you don’t want or if you want to stop, just say the word, alright?”

Daphne nodded and murmured her consent without breaking the kiss. As his mouth moved to her throat, his hands traveled down to her center where he found her drenched and ready for him.

Well, not quite ready.

His mouth continued its journey down her body, tasting every morsel he could on his way. He stopped at her waistline, hesitating just a moment to look up into Daphne’s eyes. Her look of confusion quickly morphed into realization as she concluded where he was headed.

“Do you trust me?” Simon said, his gaze never leaving hers.

“Yes,” Daphne said with more confidence than Simon had expected.

“Good. Because I’ve wanted to do this since the moment you first danced with me.”

Without giving her a moment to react, he dove in with an intensity that surprised even him. As his tongue entered her center, her back arched so high off the mattress that he had to reach an arm up and place it on her stomach to keep her steady. His tongue dove in and out as if she was the only thing that could save him from starvation. He could feel her start to pulse around him as he transitioned his fingers into replace his tongue, moving to instead lap at her bud. It only took a few moments before Daphne’s gasps became screams of his name over and over.

He moved up to her side resting his head in his hand while bringing the other to his mouth so he could taste her once more all while she stared up at him with a heady look of indescribable pleasure.

“Well,” he said softly, bringing his face close to hers once again. “How do you feel?”

“I feel..” Daphne could barely find the breath to serve her words.

“I feel wonderful.”

Chapter Text

There was an incessant rapping at the door of their small room. Daphne looked at Simon but he seemed to be just as confused as she was. As he went to open the still knocking door, she threw on a robe over her simple nightdress.

Daphne did not know what she had expected to be on the other side of the door, but it certainly was not 3 of her siblings tumbling over each other into the room. Colin, who had apparently been leaning on the door and not expecting Simon to open the door without warning, fell to the floor. In his efforts to prevent his fall, he grabbed Benedict’s sleeve pulling his brother down right beside him. Next to them, Eloise, the source of the ferocious knocking, was knocked forward by her falling brothers and it was only Simon’s quick reflexes reaching out to grab her arm that kept her from joining them on the floor. Daphne stared, jaw open, at the chaotic scene that now lay before her while Simon’s face showed he may be having second thoughts about joining himself to the Bridgerton family.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Daphne said, with all the calm rage that has been perfected by eldest sisters.

“Anthony,” Colin said, still catching his breath on the floor.

“We came as fast as we could to get here before him,” Benedict added.

Eloise looked at her sister. “He is NOT happy.”

As if on cue, a voice yelled from outside, “HASTINGS!”

Daphne met Simon’s eyes. “Shit,” he said, not so under his breath as they went to look out the window. Anthony Bridgerton was storming towards the house, horse abandoned in the road, more furious than Daphne had ever seen him before. Before she could stop him, Simon turned to go out the door tailed closely by Colin and Benedict. Daphne went to follow when Eloise grabbed her arm.

“Sister, I am sorry. I kept your secret as long as I could. When we realized how adamant Anthony was to get to Scotland, I made Benedict and Colin take me with them to try and get here before him. I didn’t-“

“It is alright, Eloise. You did your job splendidly. Because of you, Anthony is about 18 hours too late.” With a twinkle in her eye, Daphne grabbed her sister’s hand to pull her outside. “You know mother is going to kill you when you get back to London.”

Eloise shrugged. “It’d save me from having to come out next season.”

Daphne laughed as she dashed outside with her sister to stop her brother and her husband from killing each other.

“How DARE you,” she heard Anthony yell as they approached.

“I’m sorry, Bridgerton, I don’t know what you ever could be talking about.” Simon responded smugly. Daphne groaned. She loved her husband but she would appreciate it if his pride didn’t make her a widow after a single day.

“Marrying MY sister? Without MY permission?”

Simon folded his arms across his chest. “Last time I checked, we’re in Scotland. I don’t need your permission”

“I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I did not think you a villain.“ Anthony swung hard but missed when Simon dodged.

Daphne rushed to stand between the two men. “Enough! Both of you. This is no longer something you can control, Anthony.”

Anthony looked at his sister. “I can demand satisfaction.”

“What?”said all four of his siblings in unison.

“He took advantage of you, sister. I knew his nature and I should have protected you from him the moment he tried to first dance with you.”

“Do not treat me like a child. I did this. I chose this.” Daphne fumed inching ever closer to her brother.

“It is not your fault. You could not have known,” Anthony tried to say coolly

“You think that just because I am a woman I am incapable of making my own choices? Is that it brother?” Daphne’s voice increased as she now stood toe to toe with her brother. “Do you even care that Simon took advantage of me as you say or is it your own male pride that you seek to satisfy?” Unable to contain her anger, Daphne pushed Anthony in the chest as if they were once again children fighting over a toy. Anthony tripped backwards but caught his balance. They stood there for a moment, eyes locked, before Daphne pulled back her arm to swing at her brother. But before she could inflict any further damage, Daphne felt Simon’s arms go around her waist picking her up and pulling her from the fight as she saw Benedict throw his body in front of Anthony to hold him back as well.

Putting her down, Simon looked at Daphne with his eyebrow cocked, unable to keep the smirk from his face. He waited until Daphne rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest, silently agreeing to his peace negotiation. Finally, Simon turned back around to face Anthony, apparently calmed by having to stop his wife from punching yet another man in front of him.

“Bridgerton, if you truly believe me to be a villain, I will accept your challenge,” he said calmly.

“Simon!” Daphne said, stepping forward to grab his hand, shocked at his acceptance. Simon continued to face Anthony but he squeezed her hand in return and did not let go.

“But please first hear what I have to say.”

Anthony stood there fuming, refusing to do anything but stare at Simon as if his gaze alone could defeat him. Benedict, still holding Anthony’s chest, rolled his eyes before nodding for his brother. Simon took this as enough permission to continue.

“I will not deny that in my past, especially in the times we shared together, I was a rake. When I came back to London, I simply wanted to set my father’s affairs in order and leave as quickly as I could. At Vauxhall, Daphne and I agreed to a ruse, to allow Mayfair to think we were courting to free me from unwanted attentions of mothers and daughters while attracting suitors to her doorstep again. Romance was never even in question. I thought her naive not to mention your younger sister while Daphne rightfully thought me to be at least a bit of an ass. But in removing romance, we found friendship, true friendship.

“Anthony, you know I have never been one for flirting or chatting or indeed talking at all. But I found myself enjoying Daphne’s company so much I could not stay away from her. Our conversation was easy. Her laughter brings me joy.”

Still holding onto his hand, Daphne walked to his side where she could see his smile and the tears just forming in the corner of his eye.

“To meet a beautiful woman is one thing,” Simon continued, now turning to look at his wife’s smiling face. “But to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of women is something else entirely apart.” Simon turned back to face Anthony and the rest of his siblings that had now gathered at his side to hear Simon speak.

“I am sorry to say that it took Nigel Berbrooke storming into your camp for me to realize I did not want Daphne to only be my friend. I wanted her to be my wife. I love her as my wife.”

If Daphne could have done anything but stare in awe at Simon, she would have seen Benedict and Colin smiling with tears lingering in the corners of their eyes. Even Eloise was grinning at seeing love in a way she had not done since their father’s death. Anthony, however, remained perfectly still his eyes fixed with Simon’s. After a long moment of silence, Anthony finally moved his gaze to Daphne.

“Sister, is this what you want?” he said coolly.

“Yes, Anthony, it is,” Daphne replied, her face erupting into a smile. “I want this with all my heart and I would not have it any other way.” As Simon looked back to his wife, she could not stop herself from reaching up to his cheeks and pulling him down for a sweet but passionate kiss. Simon’s hands went to her waist as they pulled back after only a moment but stayed with their foreheads touching until Anthony’s voice made her turn her head towards him once again.

“Then you have my blessing.”

Daphne took the few steps to her brother in a heartbeat and flung her arms around him in a hug. “Thank you, brother. This means the world to me.”

Anthony chuckled as he patted her back. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft now,” he teased, “I seem to recall you trying to take a swing at me just a few minutes ago.”

“Well, you were being an ass,” Daphne replied as she stepped back from her brother. “I’d have to swing at you much less if you would stop doing that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Daphne felt Simon’s hand on the small of her back as he walked over and clapped his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. “I am truly sorry, friend. If there had been another way-“

“Yes, I can see that now,” Anthony said, shuffling his feet. “I suppose I should apologize for… well, you know…”

“Threatening to shoot me?” Simon chuckled.

“Yes, that.”

“I would have thought you dishonorable had you not. Besides, you’ve always been a terrible shot. Even if it had come to a duel, I doubt you could’ve hit me if you tried.”

“Well, I for one, am delighted to have a new brother,” Colin announced as he inserted himself into the situation.

“I’ve never had any siblings,” Simon said as Colin shook his hand, “But if this morning is any indication, it seems to be quite the adventure.”

“Yes, I would say this is a fairly accurate representation of what it means to be in the Bridgerton family,” said Benedict with a smirk as he shook Simon’s hand as well.

“I was of the opinion I had more than enough brothers,” Eloise said as she went to Daphne’s side, “However, if I have to have more, I suppose you will do.”

“High praise, indeed,” Daphne scoffed as she elbowed her sister.

“It's more than she’s ever said about me,” Colin mumbled out of the corner of his mouth to Simon which made them both smile. Daphne could not believe how happy it made her to see Simon merge so effortlessly into her dear family.

“Of course, we will need to discuss Daphne’s dowry,” Anthony said, apparently wanting to ruin the happy moment with business.

“There is nothing to discuss. I will not accept one,” Simon said with a wave of his hand which garnered him strange looks from each of the Bridgerton siblings.

“I beg your pardon?” Anthony asked

“I need not be paid to marry Daphne,” Simon explained. “It is an insulting custom in my judgement. You may place the money in a trust for her if you like but you need not harbor any doubts of my intention to support your sister.” He looked down to Daphne as he brought his arm around to place his hand on her waist again. “Her well-being is my responsibility now. I take that duty with the utmost seriousness.”

“Very well,” Anthony said in defeat. After a moment, he ran his hands through his hair. “What am I to tell Mother? Or the rest of the ton for that matter?”

“You can tell them the Duke of Hastings has finally found his Duchess,” Simon said confidently.

“Who will be returning to London, when exactly?” Benedict followed up.

“Whenever they see fit,” Daphne said proudly.

“Perfect,” Colin said, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure that will go over splendidly.”

“I like it,” said Eloise.

“Well, then it’s definitely a terrible plan,” Colin countered before he dodged Elosie’s fist. As they continued to spar back and forth through the garden, Daphne began to walk towards her family carriage with Simon’s hand in hers and her brothers beside her.

“And when will you return to London?” Daphne asked her brothers. “Will you stay to enjoy scenic Scotland?”

“Alas, someone has to go home and clean up your mess,” Anthony replied. “We will stay here tonight before returning to London in the morning.”

“Hopefully, at a more leisurely pace than we took on the way here.” Benedict said.

“There is a small inn in the town square where you could stay,” Simon suggested. “I would offer the cottage if there were enough beds to go around.”

“I believe we are fine without sleeping one room over from our sister on her honeymoon,” said Benedict, which earned him a swift jab in the stomach from a blushing Daphne.

“Perhaps we could join you for dinner at the very least,” Simon said, trying to contain his laughter.

“Sounds wonderful,” Anthony said, as the group started to walk down the lane into town instead to follow Colin and Eloise who had apparently decided to spar with each other all the way into town.