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Chapter Text

I Might Have To Wait
I'll Never Give Up
I Guess It's Half Timing
And The Other Half's Luck
Wherever You Are
Whenever It's Right
You Come Out Of Nowhere And Into My Life

And I Know That We Can Be So Amazing
And Baby Your Love Is Gonna Change Me
And Now I Can See Every Possibility

And Somehow I Know That It Will All Turn Out
And You'll Make Me Work So We Can Work To Work It Out
And I Promise You Kid I'll Give So Much More Than I Get
I Just Haven't Met You Yet – Michael Bublé (Orchestral violin instrumental version)

CHAPTER 1

March 22nd, 1821

As the harsh winter faded away, the world awakened from its slumber with a burst of color and fragrance at the start of a new season. Trees shed their bare branches, unfurling delicate green leaves that glistened in the warm sunlight. Flowers pushed through the soil, their petals unfolding in a rainbow array - daffodils, tulips, and cherry blossoms painting the landscapes. The air was filled with the cheerful songs of birds, building nests and welcoming new hatchlings. 

Gentle breezes carried the earthy scent of damp soil and blooming flora. Longer, brighter days invite people outside to enjoy the moderate temperatures, whether taking a leisurely stroll, planting a garden, or picnicking in the park. After the dormancy of winter, spring radiates an infectious sense of renewal and hope.

The lush greenery of the grass and timbering trees, the aroma of flowers blooming overwhelms when one step outside in the morning to breathe in the fresh air and the sounds of birds chirping greet the day. The trees are budding, flowers are blossoming, and the grass is growing.

It could only mean one thing. 

The social event of the season loomed heavily upon the members of the ton. London’s fashionable set will be vying for the annual, coveted title of “The Diamond of the Season” bestowed by the Queen.

The eligible debutantes of Mayfair and their hungry mamas will not only fight to get the attention and approval of Her Majesty Queen Charlotte, they will be fighting for the attention of the eligible bachelors currently seeking wives within the marriage mart.

This part of the social season didn’t particularly aspire any excitement to certain individuals though, more specifically, Eloise Bridgerton.

In fact, it aspired the complete opposite. She found the whole tradition to be tedious, aggravating and frankly boring.

It’s what Eloise would like to describe as “silly season”. Every member in the ton acts a fool throughout the three month period. Eloise found it amusing though. 

Eloise has always had a disdain for the marriage mart and society in general. The way society viewed and treated women, whether they’re from a high society or lower class, has always been regressive and borderline grossly offensive.

The ton was the pinnacle of Regency society, which was governed by a bewildering and unwritten collection of rules. Women had specific roles: to marry, become a mother and establish themselves as successful society wives, to whom no scandal or gossip could possibly attach itself. 

Eloise did not fit the mold of what was expected of her as a woman in society. She was unmarried, unburdened with children and was certainly not interested in engaging with the rest of the society wives.

And she was no stranger to scandal and gossip –even seven years into the marriage mart.

But she was not complaining.

At nearly five and twenty, one would look at her situation and assume she was suffering as a spinster, but Eloise was very comfortable with her decision to remain single.

That’s the important distinction, this was her decision. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t have suitors attempting to call on her, especially since she was the only adult daughter left who was unmarried and still living under the Bridgerton household.

But she has watched the list of lords, barons, viscounts and misters calling on her grow considerably lower in numbers with each passing year she gets older, to which she is very thrilled about.

If men don’t consider her worthy enough to marry her, she didn’t have to engage much in conversation with them because it was expected of her. She wasn’t required to attend as many balls anymore, she didn’t have to fill a dance card anymore, she didn’t have to endure through endless hours of mediocre conversation about the mundane interests of the men, she didn’t have to hear a man go on and on about how large his estate was, how many horses he keeps in his stables, or how he has a whole collection of handkerchiefs –oh dear god, thank the heavens for no more handkerchiefs talk! 

She was very contented being considered a spoiled egg, well past her expiry date, that her womb is now deemed too ‘hollow’ and hoary to be a reasonable match to bear children for a man who didn’t even love or care for her. 

She has witnessed way too many unhappy marriages in her lifetime to ever consider it.

But on the flipside, she has also witnessed some very successful, loving and happy marriages around her to make her think that perhaps…perhaps, marriage wasn’t a gilded cage she always assumed it was for women. 

Five of her siblings have had the rare privilege of finding a love match in their spouses.

Daphne has been married to Simon, The Duke of Hastings for eight years and their devoted love spawned five children; Augustus (Augie), Belinda, Caroline, David and Emelia– Daphne clearly didn’t know a life outside of her bedroom chamber that’s for sure. Eloise would have to ask her sister whether she plans to stop having children soon (if she even could). 

Anthony has been married to Eloise’s sister-in-law, Kate, for nearly seven years and their passionate love has brought into the world their two sweet little boys; Edmund and Miles.

Anthony and Kate were more logical, responsible and…careful in growing their family. Kate, like Eloise, enjoyed her independence and although she loved her children incredibly so, she knew having a large family would take so much of her time away from her own interests.

She spent much of her life caring for her family, so she enjoyed the little family she has built with Anthony. They are in no rush to expand their family yet. She has given birth to an heir and a spare –who she would die for – to keep the Bridgerton dynasty going for the next generation.

She did her conjugal duty and was now content and happy with running two Bridgerton households (Bridgerton House and Aubrey Hall) as a stellar example of a Viscountess. 

Eloise respected that, although, Kate was living life in the way society would deem appropriate for a married woman in the ton to act, she still shared many of the sentiments Eloise had and she still held onto her ambitions, so much so she has been able to channel her ambitions elsewhere through motherhood and running the household –with Anthony’s support of course.

Kate was able to teach her children the same things any child would learn. Regardless of their gender, she was impartial in how she’s planning to raise her sons in this society. If they wanted to learn sewing and knitting, she taught them. If they wanted to learn horseback riding, she taught them that too. 

Kate’s approach, although admirable and commendable, didn’t sway Eloise one way or the other in her feelings towards marriage and children.

She still felt that Kate would have fared much better had she become the governess she always wanted to be but because society wants to put women in ‘their place’, she has chosen a different path in life.

Eloise didn’t ever want to put herself through something similar. She valued her freedom too much to let it go.

Things became complicated with Eloise’s approach to marriage when her third eldest brother got married. Colin has been married to Penelope, none other than Eloise’s best friend, for nearly six years and their close love has blessed them with the birth of their three children; Thomas(Lord Featherington), Agatha and Jane.

Initially starting off as longtime friends, their sudden relationship came as an understandable shock to Eloise and even though they’ve all moved past the drama, Eloise still couldn’t fathom her childhood best friend and older brother being so besotted with each other.

But she doesn’t know a life where they weren’t together anymore because they made perfect sense. They just fit so well with one another and she couldn’t be happier for them.

Penelope, although was a mother and a wife, she still ran a successful business as a woman in society. She was a renowned writer in all of London and some of her literary works are stretching to various parts of the country as well.

Her gossip column, formerly known as Lady Whistledown, has grown exponentially over the years that now it has an entire hub center for women of the ton to read up on the latest gossip and discuss them freely at their leisure. 

Eloise was thrilled for her closest friend—no—her sister-in-law, for being able to juggle those various aspects of life. Seeing Penelope living this successful and fulfilled posed a question to Eloise: What if you can have it all as a woman in society?

For so long, society have depicted that a “woman’s place” should be seen as very low, indeed: with few legal and economic rights or even receiving little respect, women are seen as oppressed victims of a patriarchal society, subordinate first to their fathers and, then, to their husbands who had, of course, been selected by their fathers.

Girls and young women are advised to remember that women’s minds should be limited in reason and not to be overtaxed with serious, intellectual education. 

Penelope was one of the first women Eloise witnessed that broke the status quo. Of course, she didn’t come without her own detractors. Ever since she was revealed to be Whistledown, she was treated as a pariah among many social circles, which wasn’t unlike the treatment she faced before, but this time she had the respect of the ton. Nobody willingly chose to pick an argument with Penelope, unless they wanted to be the subject of public ruin in her column. 

And to this day, she gets dirty, unbecoming looks from some of the older, stiff-upper lipped ladies but she has earned a deep amount of respect from the younger generation though, girls like Eloise’s youngest sister Hyacinth, absolutely adored Pen and looked up to her a great deal. 

The men, however, well…None of them saw Penelope’s business as something praiseworthy, on the contrary, they found her ambition to be indecent and vulgar.

A woman’s economic independence was always restricted because of the stigma attached to a woman who earned money through working.  For instance, many men felt portrait painting by women was “indelicate” and thus, art was never taught to girls in schools. 

An unmarried woman could become a governess, but this was a position beneath the social rank and status of middle and upper class young women and was thus regarded as humiliating for upper class women. Some unmarried women conducted girls’ schools, but most women lacked sufficient education to fill this or other professions. 

To see Penelope, a woman of great intelligence, able to build an empire through the means of writing—something that was frowned upon by higher ranking noblemen—it made her a target.

Not to mention, she had the support of her husband, who many viewed as weak for being unable to contain his own wife’s ambitious spirit. 

It made life incredibly difficult for them to navigate at times because of these archaic, backward opinions but it didn’t deter them though.

Penelope and Colin, otherwise, seemed happy and content because they were both on a somewhat equal playing field. They were both accomplished writers who enjoyed some travel if they didn’t tend to the running of the household –of which Portia Featherington was happy to take over when they were not around. 

But Eloise truly felt the weight of her decision to stay single when her older brother –and admittedly, her favorite brother– Benedict got married. Benedict has been married to the love of his life Sophie Baek for almost four years.

They met at their mother’s incomparable Masquerade Ball (a night even Eloise couldn’t forget) almost five years ago. Their relationship began with one dance and it was love at first sight for them both – without either of them knowing who the other was because they were masked.

Benedict was happy to remain single, along with Eloise, but that one night chemically altered him, flipping his world upside down and changed his life forever. 

Benedict spent an entire year searching for the Lady in Silver, driving him to a point of obsession that when he met Sophie, he didn’t even consider that she was the one he met that night the year before ago. 

That man was so in love and obsessed with Sophie, Eloise was surprised her sister-in-law hasn’t been driven mad enough to leave him. Their love was so pure and sweet, it was something one would only find in a fairytale storybook. It even moved Eloise a tiny bit. 

And Sophie…

Sophie was just an absolute gem of a human being. Eloise thought her relationship with Kate was close but when she met Sophie, she realized exactly the type of energy she was missing from life. Sophie’s sense of humor was unmatched and Eloise was a very sarcastic individual – much to the dismay of others –so it was a delight to find someone who truly understood her and her quirks in Sophie.

Sophie and Benedict were perfect for each other. So were Pen and Colin. And Eloise was happy for them…

But because of this, Eloise found herself…lost.

She lost her best friend through marriage, and then she lost her favorite brother through it too. One of them, a person she thought she’d spend spinsterhood with, and the other, one she vowed to remain single and free with have both succumbed to societal expectation.

She supposed…It was time for Benedict to marry. He was slightly miffed at the thought that his younger brother was married before he was and seemed to find his purpose in life sooner than Benedict did but Eloise always believed it wouldn’t be enough to turn him to the other side.

However... 

It did. 

And it took meeting Sophie to change his entire thinking. 

One other thing about losing her favorite people through marriage is that she sees less and less of them as each time passes as they lead lives and develop other interests that Eloise just couldn’t relate to anymore. Benedict is either off teaching some painting classes at an art academy or staying in the country side with his growing family in their country estate, My Cottage. Sophie gave birth to their children; Charles and their newest addition Violet. 

Eloise was happy for all of her siblings though. They all seemed to have married for love and not just mere duty.

Seeing her brothers, Anthony, Benedict and Colin, who each had very complicated views around marriage initially, find their love match and treating their wives with respect and care, sort of softened Eloise’s views around men.

Perhaps, not all men are horrible and rude and controlling.

Perhaps, there are a few good eggs left among a rotten bunch. 

Seeing her sisters find love matches of their own also put an asterisks on what marriage truly was like for women.

Yes, it’s wonderful that they all seemed satisfied with their lives and they all felt supported by their husbands.

The problem was, Eloise couldn’t still help but feel that marriage still felt like a prison for them, a prison they gladly accept and enjoy, granted, but…a prison nonetheless.

Her sisters couldn’t just do anything without consulting their husbands first. Eloise is an avid reader of books and one of her favorite novelists is the late author, Jane Austen whose books centered solely on women of the times, sheds a light on the female experience.

Jane Austen paints a vastly different picture of women in her novels though. 

Jane Austen’s major preoccupation was the fate of women in the society of her times.  In her novels, the pictures of women and their lives are very different from the pictures painted of women as suppressed, passive victims of their society.  

Jane Austen’s heroines are intelligent; they exercise reason; they are held in high esteem by the men whom they love, who love them, and whom they marry. They are depicted as having the option to choose.

That isn’t the way society really was.

Women aren’t given the option to choose how to live their lives unless a man is involved to approve of those choices. 

Although, Eloise has grown rather fond of reading romance novels from Austen, she wondered then, if Jane Austen represented “woman’s place” idealistically or realistically; She wondered if her attitude toward “woman’s place” was conservative – seeking to slow the social changes of this revolutionary period – or radically feminist –seeking to revolutionize the status of women – or romantic – seeking to idealize love and marriage. 

Is her world just a state of delusion? Or is it a world that is currently within reach for women?

Eloise asks herself those questions every day…

The state of society is one of the many reasons why Eloise was reluctant to pursue marriage, even though she has slightly softened to it over the years.

Another reason why she’s reluctant had a lot to do with what her younger sister Francesca had to endure recently.

Francesca, the sixth born Bridgerton child, and the third daughter got married to the love of her life, John Stirling, the same year Colin married Penelope.

Their marriage was unique. It wasn’t like any of the relationships of her other siblings. They were the same person in that they enjoyed their quiet, peaceful life together and didn’t care much for the theatrics in how they approached their love story.

There was no passionate confession of love or display of affection; their love wasn’t spawn by some grandiose, loud and deep sense of yearning and wanting. It certainly wasn’t riddled with drama that came with the rest.

It was quiet, simple, calm, controlled and peaceful. 

And it was that sense of peace that truly made their match a sight to behold whilst living with them in Scotland during the first year of their marriage.

But it also made her stay there quite boring and stale because there wasn’t anything interesting to do. John’s cousin, Michaela, was fun company to be around but she was often busy with other pursuits. 

During that year though, watching them, she thought that nothing in the world could disrupt their peace…until John desired to have children and it proved difficult for them both to conceive a child.

Francesca was immensely frustrated that she was unable to provide him an heir, a son who he truly always wanted. John didn’t grow up with any siblings, so he clearly wanted a family of his own and Francesca was more than happy to give him one, but it did not seem to be working for her.

Francesca confided in Eloise about this. Every other night, Francesca came into her room, dripping and weeping in tearful sobs, expressing fears of feeling less like a woman because she was unable to do the very job she was meant to do.

She believed John would stop loving her if she ended up being barren because her womb was too inhospitable to grow a child. 

It soon became a sort of obsession with Francesca. She read up on various home remedies and herbs she could take to conceive and failing at every time. Most of the time she would have taken up into playing the piano (which always gave her an element of calm in her life), she spent worrying about conceiving a child.

John was thankfully not too hard on Francesca over this. Honestly, Francesca seemed to be putting more pressure on herself than anyone else. 

John and Francesca spent the better part of two and a half years trying to conceive. It wasn’t until the start of 1818 that they were finally able to conceive a baby, but their happiness was short-lived when she unexpectedly lost the child before its birth at a mere two months into the pregnancy. 

Distraught, Francesca gave up on all hope that children were in the cards for her and decided to give up her pursuit in becoming with child because she didn’t think she could emotionally handle losing another baby.

However, in the summer of 1818, she discovered she was with child yet again after a long, strenuous, stressful period of having no such luck.

John and Francesca treaded cautiously throughout the pregnancy, practically walking on eggshells waiting for the day something went wrong.

But once Francesca was far along, they finally got to a point where they can fully be excited for the new arrival instead of living in a constant state of dread.

The entire Bridgerton family was positively elated for the couple –everyone was aware how much they wanted this. It truly looked like things were looking up for the Kilmartin household. 

Things took a tragic, sudden turn for the worse in the cold winters of 1818 when John returned home overcome with a massive ache of the head that was so severe, he chose to sleep on the cold floor the moment he walked through the doors. 

The staff hauled him to his bed chamber where they aided and attempted to nurse him back to health, but to no avail.

They consulted with a medical doctor and he provided him with some herbal remedies and morphine which seemed to help him enough to rest with at least a bit of relief, but the hours sped up to days and John did not wake up from his deep sleep.

Francesca was the one to find him unresponsive and without a pulse the day before the snow stuck to the ground. John died peacefully in his sleep. 

Francesca was left stricken and reeling with grief at the death of her husband, as she clutched her burgeoning stomach that carried his heir for several days.

She could not leave John’s bed chambers, even when the staff and medics moved his corpse from the room, Francesca couldn’t bear to move. She could not speak to anybody. The only person she could even acknowledge was Michaela Stirling, John’s cousin.

Francesca and Michaela seemed to have cultivated a rather close friendship over the years. 

Three months passed by and Francesca eventually delivered her baby boy in the early spring of 1819 and she chose to name him John, after his deceased father.

Upon birth, he became the new Earl of Kilmartin. 

The death of John in the midst of Francesca’s pregnancy, juxtaposed the period Violet Bridgerton lost her husband and the Bridgerton patriarch in a similar way. Lady Violet was heavily pregnant with Hyacinth at the time of Lord Edmund Bridgerton’s death.

As a mother, she could empathize immensely for her daughter.

Eloise just didn’t want to go through what her sister went through. 

Not only was she opposed to marriage and children because of her beliefs, but she was also…terrified of it.

Childbirth is one thing, but coupled with the fact that you could lose a child through birth or your partner as well at any given moment? That was not a comforting thought at all. 

She was terrified of experiencing the same heartbreak Francesca experienced. She didn’t think she could survive losing the person she loved in death.

She couldn’t survive having to bring a child into this world without their father…She knows firsthand what it was like to be fatherless.

Why burden a child through all that pain?

No, Eloise would rather prefer to channel her time elsewhere. She would rather remain resolved in her desire to not get married and not have children, by doing something that matters. Making change in the world.

Eloise is not unfeeling though, she would love to experience love at some point. She’s experienced little glimmers of what feeling something for somebody can do for her and she liked the feeling she got whenever she talked to a man who she shared some interests with, a man who she chose to be around with.

However, there hasn’t been enough of those opportunities over the years, given how rotten the pool of men are so she simply decided to keep busy in her ambitions to explore outside of her little bubble.

Meet new people, learn about different experience and understand why society was the way it was.

Sure, she has moments where she feels…lonely? She doesn’t have many people around her who are willing to share these same – at times radical – passions, ideas and motivations with her because they just don’t have a vision of the way society should be, the way Eloise does.

Or maybe they just do not believe in it. 

Even the likeminded women she has met over the years think she is ludicrous to think change is possible in society, especially for unmarried women.

“Single women have a dreadful propensity for being poor – which is one very strong argument in favor of matrimony.” Gladys, one of Eloise’s closest comrades, quoted to her one afternoon. “Do you know who wrote that?”

Eloise sighed, as she rolled her eyes but responded, “Jane Austen,” 

Gladys nodded her head. “Yes,” She replied. “Believe me, Eloise, I share your desire to make real change in the world. And I applaud you for stepping away from the herd, despite your privileged upbringing and background but…Your life is much different than I. You are destined for a life of contentment and freedom even though you are unwed, because you have a family who will support you regardless of your situation. Whereas I—I am destined for a life of real spinsterhood and all the pangs and baggage that comes with that life unless I marry a man who can provide for me. I do not have an education, and even if I could have one, I could never afford it.” She expressed as the two ladies strolled along the congregated marketplace.

Eloise adjusted her cloak sleeves and pushed her hair behind ears as they stuck out of the hood. 

“The change we have to see doesn’t start within the ton, it has to begin with the rest of people outside of the ton. If you want to create a world where women are treated equally to men and are given the same opportunities as them, we have to begin where the opportunities aren’t greatly afforded no matter the sex,” Gladys further explained as she went to grab two oranges and purchased them with two coins. “Thank you,”

“My pleasure, madam,” The elderly food vendor with worn clothes smiled warmly at the dark skinned woman walking freely beside Eloise.

The elderly woman glanced over to Eloise to meet her eyes, and gave her a smile. Eloise grinned back with a slight nod.

She knew she vowed to never return to the streets of Bloomsbury after the scandal that almost rocked the Bridgerton household and nearly tarnished the reputation of her family.

However, that was seven year ago. The amount of gossip and drama that followed could keep all the attention of the ton off her back for many years to come. 

With a vast majority of the Bridgerton children all wed, the family weren’t such a permanent fixture in people’s zeitgeists. The Bridgerton’s were still notorious and respected in society, but just not what people cared to gossip about as much anymore. 

So, it made it easier for Eloise to sneak around and visit the places she would otherwise never been allowed to. She has made it a personal mission of hers to see the lower and middle class populated cities of Great Britain. Cities like Plymouth, Leeds, Liverpool, Huddersfield, Birmingham and Manchester. 

She met her friend Gladys in Bristol, a rather peculiar place to find a fair skinned member of the ton. Eloise stuck out like a sore thumb among everyone no matter how hard she tried to blend in.

She could feel the many eyes on her back.

Thank goodness Gladys came to her aid and helped her navigate her way through the city.

Gladys, along with many of her companions who lived in Bristol, served as maids and servants or cooks of middle class to upper class families who lived outside of the ton, but were still well off enough to afford servants Eloise supposed. 

Gladys served as a cook for a family in Kensington, London. 

Gladys was a free spirited young woman of nearly nine and twenty. She was unwed and she chose to stay unwed till the day she perished from the earth. She rejected the conformation of women in the lower class society who were only required to bear children and clean the house, no, she had ambitions to be much more than just a housewife. She had dreams of opening a food and drink saloon for women.

There were Ice Cream Saloons to keep women occupied, but Gladys wanted something more than that. She wanted a place where families could enjoy many different cuisines and to enjoy the entertainment provided by her potential business partners who had the most heavenly voices that deserved to be heard by the world.

She saw a world where a woman owned food and drink establishment could provide women, families and even couples a place of escape.

Eloise was always elated whenever Gladys detailed her goals with such clear, distinct and zealous passion and unadulterated joy. Eloise wanted nothing more to see Gladys’ dreams come into fruition.

It inspired her to pursue her own dreams. 

That she was still searching for…

 
Bridgerton House

Eloise returned home that day to the entire Bridgerton house buzzing and booming –which hasn’t been the case in years since many of her siblings have left the nest post-marriage.

“Hyacinth!” She heard her mother call out. “My child, would you please come down and explain to me why there is a broken vase in the middle of the passageway?!”

“Mother, I assure you, I did not break the vase!” Hyacinth ran into the room and appeared on the balcony. 

Violet sighed, “I am aware it is not you who broke the vase, but I imagine you know who did? As it appears you have been tasked to look after the little hooligans who I know are hiding, mind you!” She called out, cocking her eyebrow as she spotted two tiny heads peeking from behind some flowerpots.

Shortly, there were a chorus of two kindred, soft, tiny giggles that followed.

Violet sighed, looking back up at Hyacinth. “Care to explain?”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes. “Mother! I am terribly sorry but I can barely focus as I am making my debut into society tomorrow. And I am truly on the brink of insanity right now, trying to figure out what shade of tulle I should wear under my gown. I think I should be worthy of some much needed respite before the inevitable day arrives, should I not?” Hyacinth rambled on.

Eloise scoffed at her excitable yet impressionable younger sister. “What next? Are you going to be sleuthing through different shades of white for your feather headpiece?” 

Hyacinth spotted her, “Oh! Eloise! You are home! Thank goodness, I need your help!” She exclaimed as she charged for the stairs and began trotting down to meet with her.

“Help with what, Hyacinth?” Eloise sighed as her sister reached her, now towering over her ever so slightly.

Hyacinth received the height genes of her older brothers it seemed. 

“I need your assistance in choosing the right kind of jewelry that would impress the queen! You charmed her in your first year! Tell me what to do?”

“I wouldn’t say I charmed her,” She snorted at the gross exaggeration of events. “However, I do remember emeralds being her favorites?”

Hyacinth nodded, “Emeralds! Fantastic! I—I think mother has some emeralds lying around in her jewelry box.” She then spun around on her heel and charged for the stairs again.

Violet gasped, “Ahem…Are you not forgetting to inquire my permission first before you rummage through my collection?” 

Hyacinth turned around and playfully skipped over to her mother with a wide grin. “Mother dearest,” She giggled as she took Violet’s hands in hers.

Violet waited.

“I am making my debut tomorrow. And I would want more than anything to be Diamond of the Season. So, I implore you, to not try to get in the way of that…” Hyacinth stated but stopped herself as she earned a look from her mother. “I jest!”

Violet wasn’t convinced but hummed in response, “Mhmm,”

“Please, mother, may I go through your jewelry collection?”

Violet sighed, “You may,”

Hyacinth squealed in delight before planning a small kiss on Violet’s cheek and skipping away up the stairs where she met with her older brother Gregory who recently returned home at the start of his small spring from university. 

“You look dreadful, sister.” Gregory spoke –in a rather deep voice one could note. 

“You look dreadful, brother.” Hyacinth mocked him, sticking her tongue out and ruffling his mop of hair –to which he complained in protest.

“Ah! Stop it!” He swatted her hand away before they both continued heading opposite directions.

“Uncle Gregory!” A piercingly loud squeal erupted the throats of the two young children who hid behind the flowerpots as they appeared, charging for Gregory.

“Hello, you little rascals!” He scooped up the two young children of Anthony and Kate, Edmund and Miles, into his bulging arms. 

And the two boys were certainly not light as a feather either.

Edmund was approaching his sixth year in the winter and Miles had just turned four so they were both way past the carrying age.

Gregory certainly did not look like the young boy Eloise enjoyed teasing and fussing over. He was a grown young man at the ripened age of twenty.

He even grew some stubble on his face, sporting a rather unfortunate mustache upon his return.

No matter how much taller or larger he was compared to her, Eloise would always see him as the immature child she picked on, and she would continue to do so until she grew tired of it –which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon.

“Brother, I think you ought to get rid of that vole on the top of your lip soon. You wouldn’t want to scare the teenage debutantes tomorrow,” Eloise teased.

Gregory mocked her by mimicking her words as he planted a kiss on Miles’ cheek as the boy played with his pocket watch. 

“Gregory, I do agree with your sister, you should shave it off.”

Gregory, ever the mother’s boy, agreed instantly. “I will, mother, I will.” He responded. 

“Where are Anthony and Kate?” Eloise questioned.

Violet responded. “They mentioned they were off to the study to handle the accounts but for the life of me, they haven’t seemed to return in hours. One wonders what they are doing that’s holding them up for this long,”

“Oh, I think we all know what they are doing.” Gregory chuckled.

Violet whacked him on the arm.

He moaned. “Ouch!”

Eloise shook her head, “I do not want to know,”

Over the years, Eloise had eventually found out more about what happens behind the scenes of a marriage as more and more of her siblings settle down with their spouses. 

Let’s just say, she has now become reliably informed of how a lady becomes with child.  

“Where do you come from?” Violet asked her daughter. 

Eloise looked back at her mother with befuddled eyes. “Nowhere.” She explained.

Violet frowned.

Normally, Eloise would use Penelope as an easy, gateway excuse but ever since she got married, it has become increasingly difficult to be believable as Penelope has her own separate life with Colin.

Her mother didn’t always keep an eye on her whereabouts as she does with Hyacinth and Gregory, simply because Eloise was an adult woman capable of making her own choices, but Violet did still care to ensure that Eloise was safe and not putting herself in unnecessary danger –given her rebellious nature.

“I simply took an afternoon stroll with a friend,” Eloise confirmed –and that was the truth. She was out with a friend. 

“Well, I sure do hope you won’t be having any strolls tomorrow as it is your sister’s debut! This is the few rare occasions I get to see all of my children in one place again and since it is the last time I will be doing this –thank heavens…I need all of you there,” She expressed, glancing back at Gregory. “on your best behavior, I might add.” She warned.

Gregory looked offended at the insinuation. 

"Benedict and Sophie will be arriving in under an hour and we'll finally get to meet the newest little Bridgerton!" Violet remarked with a tiny, excited chuckle at the mention of her new namesake. 

Eloise sighed, "Would be lovely to see Sophie again." She said. 

"Yes, I hear Posy will be traveling with them as well. Hyacinth will likely be thrilled to have her there too." Violet stated.

“When is Daphne arriving?” Eloise asked.

“Her letter said she would arrive just before sunset,” 

“I take it, the Duke will not be present?” Eloise asked.

Violet shook her head, “Unfortunately not, as he has some business to attend to. However, she will be bringing the children. Oh, how I miss the little ones! I’m sure they miss their aunt Eloise as well.”

Eloise snorted, “Good god, I hope not! They can miss any of the remaining aunts.” She jested.

Violet sighed, “You know, Eloise –”

Oh, dear! Here she goes again! Eloise thought.

Quickly! Time to distract her!

“Edmund, Miles, I am just about to stop over to pay a visit to the Featheringtons. Would you two boys care to join me?” She asked her nephews. 

“Will Thomas be there?” Edmund asked with bright, hopeful eyes –his entire face resembled Anthony but his eyes reminded Eloise so much of Kate. 

“Yes, I assume so,” She laughed.

The two boys squealed as they were set down onto the floor from Gregory’s arms and took Eloise’s hands. 

“I will be back in an hour or two,” Eloise informed her mother. “Any letters for me?”

“Are you expecting any?” 

Eloise shook her head, “Not necessarily, but, one can never be too interested in letters,” She chuckled, although she was slightly fibbing.

She was expecting a letter…

Featherington House

Eloise was invited into the Featherington house by one of Penelope’s longstanding handmaid’s Rae who was recently promoted as one of her ladies-in-waiting who ran the rest of the maids in the household. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton, Miss Eloise Bridgerton has arrived with Master Edmund and Master Miles Bridgerton, ma’am.” Rae announced.

Penelope spun around in the midst of her flower rearrangement with her mother and beamed when she saw her lifelong best friend appearing at the door.

“Eloise!” Penelope squealed. “Thank you, Rae.” 

Rae bowed her head and did a little curtsy before leaving the room.

"Greetings!" Eloise waved to her best friend and nodded in acknowledgement to Portia. "Boys, say hello to Aunt Penelope."

"Afternoon, Aunt Penelope!" Anthony's two boys greeted her in a synchronized chorus.

Penelope laughed, "Good afternoon, sunshines!" 

“Miss Bridgerton, that mint-green color you’re wearing is very becoming on you!” Portia Featherington remarked. 

Eloise frowned. 

Portia may have become more tolerable over the years but she did not grant compliments out willingly unless it benefited her in some way.

Therefore, to hear her shower compliments upon entry was odd, but she welcomed them nonetheless.

“Thank you,” Eloise smiled back.

Portia grinned uncomfortably as she scratched the back of her head, “You’re welcome, dearie.” She spoke.

There was a brief pause of awkward silence before Penelope broke it.

“Mother, would you mind calling in Colin and the children? Inform him of Eloise’s arrival.” She smiled.

“Of course,” Portia gladly nodded as she went to walk out of the room.

Eloise looked at Pen with confused eyes at the strange exchange. “Did I miss something?”

Penelope shook her hands, “Nothing you need to worry about. She’s just concerned for Prudence and Mr. Dankworth having marital troubles,”

“Oh, dear,” Eloise expressed as she ushered the boys to the makeshift play area in the living room. 

“Don’t act like you aren’t surprised,” Penelope remarked.

“You know, I wasn’t going to say anything, Pen. I was going to hold my tongue but you’re right, I predicted it!” Eloise jested.

Penelope giggled.

The two friends shared a friendly embrace and grinned brightly at each other as they pulled away.

"My mother’s right, you look impeccable in that shade of green.” Penelope spoke. 

Eloise beamed, “Thanks, Pen.” She replied as they both took their seats on the velvet chaise lounge sofa. “Yes, I suppose I've grown rather fond of the color."

"It is fetching!"

"Certainly fits with the new spring season," Eloise joked with a chuckle. "I take it you just returned from the modiste?”

Penelope nodded, "Madame Delacroix commissioned a gown for me for Lady Danbury’s ball. Coral and lilac colored to represent the resurgence of spring.”

“Argh—I totally forgot about that,” Eloise pointed out. “Oh, well, it’s not like I attend balls anymore, so why should I care?”

“I think you should be there.” 

Eloise glared at her, “You must be joking?”

“Why not? It’s one of the few times you and I can actually spend some uninterrupted time together. I haven’t seen you in over a month!” Penelope expressed.

“That is entirely your doing, Pen –what with you and Colin’s book tours all across the continent.”

“All across the country, Eloise. You exaggerate,” Penelope scoffed. “But I miss you, El.”

Eloise sighed, “As do I,”

Penelope flashed a tiny smile at her.

“Edmund!” A loud, innocent voice called as Thomas appeared into the room, holding onto Colin’s hand before letting go of it to play with the two other boys.

Colin entered the room, carrying a disgruntled Agatha Bridgerton in his arm. 
“Mummy!” Agatha cried out, stretching her arms out to her mother.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Penelope cooed as she opened her arms out to her as Colin brought her down.

Penelope quickly comforted the brown, wavy haired little girl in her arms. She was the spitting image of Colin, whilst Thomas looked like the image of Penelope –down to her trademark fiery ginger-red hair. 

Jane was the odd one out with her own blonde mop of hair. Nobody in the Bridgerton or Featherington household have blonde hair so it was probably a recessive blonde hair gene from one of their ancestors that transferred to the little toddler who was currently asleep in her bedroom. 

“I scraped my knee playing outside with father and Tom-Tom,” Aggie wept. 

“I did not touch her!” Thomas defended himself before he got accused of something.
Eloise snorted in a laugh, shaking her head at the little boy.

Thomas was her favorite nephew if she had the option to choose among the many children. It might also be biased because he was her godson. 

When Colin and Penelope announced that they wanted her to be the godmother of their son upon his christen, she found it odd they would choose her since she wasn’t particularly warm to babies but she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Thomas was her tiny spirit animal. She enjoyed listening to him ramble about the darnedest, ludicrous, looniest things.

“Hi, Eloise.” Colin greeted with a sigh.

“You look dreadfully bleary, brother.” Eloise remarked.

“Can you blame me? I just returned from a long, two month trip around the country with my lovely wife to return to three energetic children wanting me to chase them around the plot.” He pointed out as he collapsed onto the lounge sofa beside the women. “Am I getting old?”

“Yes!” “No!” Eloise and Penelope responded in unison. 

“Yes, you are, brother! You are old.” Eloise stated.

Penelope scolded, “Do not listen to her, my love. You are only nine and twenty! You are still very much young…and still as handsome as the day we met!”

“Mmm,” Colin responded favorably.

Eloise mentally and literally gagged at the exchange, “Bury me in the sand!” She grumbled. “Refrain from being crude in my presence?”

“Crude? Eloise…”

“We’re just a husband and wife expressing their love for each other,” Penelope explained.

“Be that as it may, I do not want to be caught in the middle of it.” She said.

Penelope sighed and changed the subject, “So, I heard Lord Debling has returned to town from his extended trip abroad. And he’s finally determined to seek a wife,”

“Again? Like that worked well for him the last time?” Eloise jested. 

Penelope shrugged, “Appears so. So…be forewarned, I hear he isn’t partial to any state of a woman.”

“Oh, you mean, he doesn’t care whether or not I’m a spinster?” I scoffed. “Thank you for the warning,”

She smiled, “I still cannot believe little Hyacinth is debuting tomorrow,”

Colin looked at his wife, “I know! Can you believe it? Finally she can shut up about her debut,”

Eloise laughed, “Right? I do not think I could bear another aggravating hour of her yammering on and on about her expectations for the day.”

“The yapper herself is easily annoyed by her own sword. Oh, my. Now you know how we feel!” Colin joked.

Eloise rolled her eyes and pinched his arm, “Ow!” He bemoaned.

Penelope giggled at the pair, then looked over Eloise's shoulder to get the attention of her husband. 

“Have you heard back from Sir Phillip?” Penelope inquired. 

The sudden drop of the name Sir Phillip piqued the curiosity of Eloise.

“What about Sir Phillip Crane?” Eloise asked.

“Eh…Well, after Marina’s death I imagine he’s been so overcome by grief that he probably wants to get away from it all so I invited him on a shooting and fishing expedition.” 

Eloise could never understand why men enjoyed such activities.

“That’s very kind of you, I suppose?” Eloise said it as if it was a question.

“It’s the least I could do,” He said. “He was absolutely distraught at the funeral,”

“Do you think he was distraught?” Penelope asked.

“Perhaps not distraught, but rather…Lost? Melancholic?” Colin said.

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows in a frown.

Sir Phillip Crane, a man who Eloise hasn’t personally met, but has heard a great deal about over the past month or so. He was the father of Marina Thompson’s children –at least that was what the public story was.

Eloise never had the pleasure of forming a friendship with Marina, having only met her a handful of times –mostly in public settings or family functions when she was briefly engaged to Colin.

But from what Penelope and Colin have told her about her, she was a young girl who was dealt a great deal because she made a dreadful mistake with the man she loved.

Eloise just assumed it had to do with the time Lady Whistledown revealed that she was with child, out of wedlock and when Sir Phillip Crane returned to marry her and provide for the family, the Featheringtons nor Colin heard back from her until that one day Colin paid a visit to the Cranes.

Colin told Eloise that Marina seemed very content with her life and seeing her provided the necessary closure to him to close that chapter he had with her.

And they never saw each other ever again.
Colin did remark, however, that Phillip Crane was unlike he had expected. He was very amiable and kind and intelligent –often speaking in scientific language that sounded very foreign to Colin. He could tell he was very well-read. 

Daphne also previously remarked about what an honorable man he seemed to be from the brief time she met him. 

Eloise didn’t know the circumstances surrounding Marina’s death, but from what she gathered, it couldn’t have been a peaceful death. 

When she first found out about her death, it wasn’t through Colin but through happenstance….

..One month ago…

Eloise had returned home from attending another one of the secret women’s empowerment seminars in Leeds and Footman John brought over a stack of letters that were delivered earlier.

“You have letters, Miss.” He told her, handing her the stack.

Because her mother, Violet, spent most of her time at her main marital residence of Anderson Park Hall with her new husband Lord Anderson, Eloise was left to run the Bridgerton household when Kate and Anthony were away or too busy. 

Eloise didn’t protest much since there wasn’t many people around anyway. Gregory was away in university for most of the year and Hyacinth was somewhere busy being Hyacinth, the ever social butterfly she was so she was rarely in the house anyway.

So, most of the time she had the house all to herself and she loved it.

Anyway…Sorting out the household letters was one of the many requirements expected of her and she often took the initiative to respond to the letters back to the sender on behalf of the family.

She also took up the habit or hobby, rather, of writing letters to family and friends when she spent a year in Scotland. It was one of the only ways she kept in touch with those closest to her and since then it's been one of her go-to forms of communication. 

Eloise then sauntered to one of the study rooms where she took a seat to begin flipping through each letter.

Several letters for sister-in-law Kate from other women of the ton, one letter from Mrs. Mondrich inviting the family to their home for dinner in a fortnight, a letter from Benedict and Sophie confirming the arrival of their newborn daughter, Violet –which earned a soft smile from Eloise. Another niece in the family!

There was a letter from Oxford University informing the family of one of Gregory’s mischievous run-inside with a few of his friends and then a simultaneous letter from Gregory begging Eloise not to inform mother of his hooligan antics.

Eloise chuckled.

Oh, boy.

Eloise then stumbled upon a letter with handwriting that was not familiar to her, but it looked very similar to the calligraphy that Cambridge University taught the boys to write in. 

Her interest piqued, she opened the envelope to begin reading the letter.

February 1821

Romney Hall, Gloucestershire 

Dear Mister Colin Bridgerton,

It has been quite a while since we last spoke with each other and I fear the blame is on me as I have been so busy over the years. I wish I drafted this letter in otherwise, cheerful circumstances but I regret to bear the news that my dear wife, Marina, Lady Crane has unfortunately, and tragically passed away in the last few days.

I don’t know when you’ll receive this letter so it’ll probably not be a few days for you hehe…Oh…

Or you might not receive it at all and this was a very moot point. Knowing my luck, it’s probably the case.

I am aware of the friendship you have developed with dear Marina and I think it is only fair that I write to you first before you hear the news from anywhere else.

I would gladly accept your presence at the funeral if it’s possible for you to make it.

Kind regards,

Phillip Crane

Eloise didn’t know why, but something about the way the letter was written or the contents of the letter, she doesn’t know, but something about the letter ignited a feeling so great that in brought forth tears in her eyes.

Yes, it was tragic but she did not know the Crane family from a bar of soap.

So, she would be forgiven if she did not feel any emotion to this one way or another, but the cadence in the way the letter was written –it even looked like there was a tear mark at the top of the paper – the undulation of each stroke of the pen made it clear it was overwhelmingly difficult for the author to write this letter to him.

Although the letter itself was mistakenly delivered to the wrong house, as Colin lives in the Featherington house as his marital home, Eloise still felt as if she was meant to receive it.

It was only right that she wrote back to him. She would still give the letter to Colin though. She was sure he would appreciate it.

She grabbed her ink box and a feathered pen and began jotting down on a piece of paper. 

Groverner's Square 

Bond Street, Mayfair, London

Dear Sir Phillip Crane,

I am writing this letter to express my deepest condolences on the loss of your wife, Marina. It appears that your letter has mistakenly been delivered to Bridgerton House which I assume you expected it to be delivered to my brother Colin.

I want to inform you that my brother has taken up residence at Featherington House now.  Either way, my sympathies still stand. 

I haven’t had the pleasure to know Marina that well but I am sure she was a lovely young woman. I will pass along the sentiments to my brother.

Please do not hesitate to write back if you ever need someone to talk to. I am not known by my family as someone who could provide any comfort but I will try my best. If there is anything I can do to ease your pain during this difficult time, let me know.

Yours truly,

Miss Eloise Bridgerton

That seemed right.

Hopefully it provided him some form of comfort.

…End of flashback…

It has been a month since then and Eloise hadn’t heard back from him. She didn’t know why she expected him to write back though as he was not obligated to. He did not know who she was.

However, she wanted to at least know that he was coping with it.

Wherever he was…

Chapter Text

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul
That love never lasts
And we've got to find other ways to make it alone
Or keep a straight face
And I've always lived like this
Keeping a comfortable distance
And up until now I had sworn to myself
That I'm content with loneliness
Because none of it was ever worth the risk

But you are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception

I've got a tight grip on reality
But I can't let go of what's in front of me here
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception
You are the only exception

Only Exception – Paramore (orchestra piano instrumental version) 

CHAPTER 2

March 23^rd, 1821

Romney Hall

Spring should be a season of rejuvenation and vibrant new life. But inside the walls of Romney Hall, it might as well be dreary, frigid, dead winter again.

It happened in the middle of winter, and ironically, by chance it just so happened to occur on a rare sunny day of winter. The first sunny day in what felt like ages —it had been a lengthy number of weeks; six, maybe seven since the sun made its presence on the earth with a clear blue sky as its backdrop— and it still felt like the gloomiest of all days.

…Beginning of flashback…

January 29^th, 1821

It had been a frigidly cold winter for two dreadfully long months. The sun ever so rarely chose to make an appearance what with the thick, gray, overcast sky keeping it hidden behind the clouds.

So, to wake up that morning to it being very sunny was peculiar to Phillip but nonetheless, it brought a smile to his face because that meant his plants would receive the much needed sunlight they needed to photosynthesize.

The handful of flowers that bloom throughout the year regardless of the season would surely be thrilled to draw some energy from the sun , Phillip thought. He had planted an array of herbaceous and evergreen perennial foliage such as, coneflowers, geranium, delphinium, hellebores, begonia, asters, and lantana .

Evergreen perennials –or long-lived plant – keep their leaves all year round, such as some varieties of  heuchera and hosta . Hardy plants tolerate low temperatures and can be planted outside all year long, while tender perennials, such as dahlias, need digging up in autumn and storing in a frost-free location.

Herbaceous perennials die back to the ground in the autumn and regrow in the spring so he didn’t have much growth from those plants, but since the spring was fast approaching, he was certainly feeling the excitement to see them bloom yet again.

Anyway, Phillip had a lot to do on his agenda today now that the weather permitted him to. He would visit his greenhouse this morning to weed the flower beds and borders. Phillip imagined he’d also need to tidy the overgrown shrubs and trees surrounding the estate as well.

Maybe if time allowed it, he could trim out the hedges as well. Perhaps he’d also add some compost to the grass now that the snow seemed to have seeped through the soil.

The sound of a light knock on his door caused Phillip to snap and center back to reality.

“Yes?” Phillip called out, as his eyes lingered onto the mahogany door.

“Sir, it is I,” One of Phillip’s maids, Clarisse, greeted in a kind, considerate, demure yet high-pitched voice. “I just wanted to inform you that your food is ready for you, my Lord.” She informed him.

“Thank you, Clarisse.” He replied.

Phillip sighed as he flipped open his covers and slipped out of his bed. He glanced over to his nightstand to retrieve his pocket watch that was gifted to him by his mother when he was just a mere little boy.

He got up to walk to the window, flicking open the curtain drapes wide –a task usually reserved for the maids but he had requested to do it himself, among many other minuscule things any human being should be able to do with their own hands instead of at the mercy of others.

Phillip desisted from living his life in a way that was traditional, one would say. Unlike the many titled noblemen of the English country, Phillip did not enjoy the trappings the title bestowed him. He denounced the ton and all of their archaic, pretentious, arrogant, and regressive institutions.

He found it quite a relief he did not need to frequent the city as often as many of the other peerage in the countryside do.

Phillip wasn’t destined to be a Lord.

Phillip Crane was the second son of Sir Thomas Crane, a retired and respected war veteran,  a Sir —not exactly a Lord but he preferred to be treated as one— and the primary owner of the vast estate of Romney Hall. One would think Phillip had a lot to live up to, but being the second son meant that he had a lot of leeway to live his life as he chooses.

Or so he thought…

Mid-Flashback

Thomas Crane had always wanted an heir worthy of taking over the estate. He was thrilled upon the birth of his oldest son, George because not only did he achieve in siring an heir, but he would have a son he would shape up in his image. A son who would be like him. A son who would act like him. A son who would essentially…be him. A clone.

He raised George Crane to be rigid, masculine, headstrong, cogent, authoritative, ruthless and fearsome. In Thomas’ eyes, he was priming George Crane to be a good leader. Some would think otherwise.

Thomas was a very proud man. He never quite got over the shame of being a titled nobleman but not being respected as such by the ton because he wasn't of the peerage. He was no Duke. He was no Earl. He was no Viscount. He was not even a Baron.

He was simply a baronet. 

The lowest hereditary title one can hold that's only slightly above a knighthood. One could essentially call such a person a privileged  commoner for all intents and purposes. 

Thomas was gutted; the very notion of being viewed as less than favorable in the guise of the upperclass society bruised his ego and because of this, he endeavored in ensuring that he demanded the respect he wanted from those around him. 

And he endeavored to instill that type of attitude in his son, George. 

When Phillip’s mother was pregnant for a second time, however, Thomas made it very clear he wanted a daughter. A daughter who he could dote on very tenderly and shower her with all the love and fatherly affection he didn’t give to George. He believed love and affection made young boys weak and he didn’t want a weak man to take over his estate when he was gone.

Much to "Lord Crane's" disappoint, Phillip was born in the early break of autumn, and Thomas did not in fact receive the daughter he, so, desperately desired.

And Thomas spent the rest of his life resenting Phillip for it.

It also didn’t help that Phillip was…different than your typical boy. Certainly, he was so different from his brother.

Phillip spent a large portion of his life being told to be more like his older brother, George. Although, they were raised to do much of the same things in life; such as, to learn to split firewood, repair tools, tend to livestock, horseback riding, practice fencing, archery, and armed weaponry, Phillip desired something different in life. Something more.

George and Phillip loved the outdoors, but for vastly different reasons. George enjoyed it for hunting purposes, but Phillip simply enjoyed it for the nature. He loved being surrounded by diverse vegetation and took up reading various books to study each of the trees and plants he came across with.

Instead of having a disinterest in schoolwork like the rest of the boys and his brother at school, Phillip threw himself into his studies. He enjoyed history, science, geography, languages and mathematics. He often found himself solving various problems at home and doing it all over again. Most of his teachers believed him to be gifted; his peers saw him as unusually strange in his actions, often calling him various unkind names.

Majority of the time, Phillip did not pay heed to these remarks and continued throwing himself into his schoolwork, but there were some days where it did affect him. He wondered why he didn’t want to do things the way the other boys were conditioned to and what they were expected to do in society. He wondered why he didn’t fit the mold.

In appearance, he looked like someone you would stereotypically expect to be an aristocratic member of the ton. Decently good looking, well-built and strong, and he was well-educated and wealthy. That was all you needed to be deemed an acceptable man in society, but Phillip did not agree with that notion. He felt as if he was destined to be greater. He wanted to see the world beyond the confines of the England–which didn’t look appealing to him in the slightest.

Knowing that his brother was the poster child of what his father hoped to achieve in a son, this gave Phillip the confidence to branch out and pursue his own ambition when he was of age and attend the University of Cambridge to study want he was most passionate about.

His father didn’t approve of the idea that instead of choosing to join the war alongside his older brother, Phillip chose pursue an education and vocation in the sciences of botany. He thought his pursuit to being different was an act of defiance and not simply a young man wanting to do what he loves.

His father’s disapproval of him (among other things) affected him to the point that he even tried to become the son he expected him to be, to imitate a lot of what his brother does but to no avail, it did not move the heartless Thomas Crane.

Luckily, Phillip’s mother was there to shower him with the love and affection and acceptance that he so wished to have from his father –but even he knew that would never happen and he eventually gave up on ever being accepted by that cold man. Phillip and George’s mother loved the both of them unconditionally.

Her marriage to Thomas was not a love match –at least from his mother's side– and so even she often fell prey to his scorn and ire from time to time.

Even as a young boy, Phillip was immensely protective, obsessively worried and dependent of his mother. He didn’t let anyone try to crush her spirit, physically or emotionally –and it often led to his own detriment. So, when she died when he was nearly nine, he was heartbroken like any child would be to lose their mother at such a young age.

But then over time, he became resentful and angry at the situation; furious at his father for being the horrible parent he was and he was also angry at his mother…for leaving him alone with that awful man.

His mother’s death ironically brought Phillip closer to his brother. From then on, George became fiercely protective over his younger brother, despite their many differences. And they were able to build a lovely friendship and understanding with one another. George always knew just what to do to cheer Phillip up whenever he was in a bad mood.

He was quite simply the best brother he could ask for. 

Phillip looked up to his brother and his untimely death shattered him to the core. Phillip was a talented boxer, a skill he took up as a teenager, initially as a form of sport but it soon evolved into a stress reliever for him, a way he could release all the pent up aggression and rage. It was also a way to cope with the hurt and pain he'd bottled in for years. 

Unlike his more outspoken, magnetic, fearless, phlegmatically blasé, tough, sociable brother, Phillip was always quiet, analytical, calm, logical, shy and sensitive. Phillip was the brains, whereas George was always the brawns. Phillip was a perfectionist to the point of stubbornness, whilst George was more carefree and spontaneous. Phillip was methodical, George was not disciplined enough. They balanced each other out, so it shouldn’t be surprising that they got along so much better in their teenage years.

When George was sent to Waterloo at the age of eight and ten, Phillip was left home with his bitter, cruel, older father who treated his youngest with as much, if not, even more disdain than he did the day he was born.

In Thomas' eyes, Phillip was the reason things did not work out well in his well. To Thomas, Phillip was the reason his favorite son George hated him. He also felt that Phillip was the reason for his wife's death.

It was understandable that this would have weighed down on Phillip emotionally. Cutting words were said in conversation with his father that would haunt him forever. 

Phillip wanted nothing more than to disappear and run off to study in Cambridge and become a scholar so that he can begin a life far away from this wretched household.

At eight and ten, he left home and was finally able to live his life peace. Finally, Phillip felt he could live his life free of the judgment of his father and without the responsibility and the glare that came with being a member of the aristocratic and upper class society.

He could become the university professor he always wanted to be, perhaps, write a book on botany and travel the world to study various other study.

George would return home after the war, perform his required duty of finding a wife and siring an heir to the baronetcy while Phillip was free to do as he chooses and pleases. That was meant to be the plan.

…until the plan changed and got dashed forever.

One morning while he was on campus, he received a letter from father informing him of George’s passing. The death of his brother crushed him to his core, but the realization of what his death meant, enraged him even more because now he would need to return to care for his sickly, old father as he prepared to now be the heir of his baronetcy.

He would say goodbye to the life he had at Cambridge and the life he would have created after. And for that, he resented his father for it. He was relieved that upon his return, he ceased to have much time with his father as he passed on a mere fortnight after George’s ill-timed death.

Phillip had no remaining family left.

It was just him…

He was nearly two and twenty, tending to an incredibly large estate, without a family left to call his own.

Or so he thought…

Phillip was in his father’s old study, rummaging and scanning through the stacks of papers he was now responsible for, familiarizing himself with all the accounts of the estate.

He heard a stern knock on the door.

“You may enter!” Phillip called.

In walked in a distinguished older gentleman with tidily quaffed, silvery graying black hair and a tapered, neatly trimmed mustache. He was not young, but he wasn't too old either. Phillip knew he was slightly under two decades older than him.

Miles Carter, the Crane Family’s longstanding secretary of a decade and a half. The Rt. Honorable Miles Carter had been the right-hand man and the most valued aide of the late Sir Thomas Crane.

He was a mentor to Phillip, always quick to answer many of his inquisitive and inquiring questions about the state of affairs, politics, culture, the world and so much more.

He never once shot down Phillip’s ideas, or made him feel as though he was odd for being so different. He encouraged him to embrace his peculiarity and rise above it, considering it as a life’s challenge to overcome rather than an obstacle to hinder him from achieving greatness that Miles Carter was so sure was destined for him.

He was like a second father to Phillip which isn’t saying much because he might as well have been his only father –since his actual father lacked the will to live up to the standard of one.

“Mr. Carter,” Phillip greeted with a nod. “For what do I owe the pleasure of your graced presence?”

“A package has arrived for you,” Miles spoke.

Phillip did not remove his eyes from the papers, “You may just leave it there,” He stated, gesturing to the open space on the table as he jotted something down.

Miles Carter fell silent.

Phillip noticed this and looked up at him, “Is there something else?”

Miles Carter exhaled a sigh, “It’s a package from The Battle of Waterloo,” He confirmed. “Carrying with it your late brother’s belongings. The General thought you should have it,”’

Phillip dropped his pen onto the pile of papers and shot up from his seat to take the box out of the secretary’s grasp and placed into onto the ground. Phillip inhaled a deep breath before opening the wooden box to reveal a bunch of his older brother’s belongings.

The box contained a few items that were significant to George and who he was as a person. It had his playing cards, a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, a spyglass (Phillip and his brother enjoyed stargazing as children on the family telescope), his favorite pair of leather boots and his black poncho, a locket that their mother gave to them before her death with their names inscribed in it and a tiny painted portrait of the three of them when the boys were children and two literature books –one was a book about music and a botany book that Phillip recognized instantly as it was part of his collection. Did George take an interest in Phillip’s love for plants?

George always told Phillip how none of the science related stuff made any sense with him and he frankly found it all boring, so Phillip was pleasantly delighted to know despite his aversion to science, he seemed to take interest in it for Phillip’s sake.

Stacked firmly underneath all of this was a portable lap desk that kept a pocket knife, paper knife and a letter opener, ivory pocket notebooks with writings on it, envelopes and inkwell and dip pens for writing. These were the essentials a soldier needed in war.

Phillip felt his lips quiver slightly as tears welled up in his eyes and a lump grew in his throat.

“Here,” Miles Carter spoke to him, handing him a stack of letters. “These were the unfinished letters George did not manage to have mailed to you.”

Phillip took the pack of letters and began flipping through them. It seemed as though he was in the midst of writing to a number of people. Three letters were for Phillip specifically, letting him know he’d enjoyed reading his book and couldn’t wait to hear more of his obsessive passion for plants upon his return. Another letter reminiscing the days they spent with their mother and then another one just to express how much he loved Phillip. 

Phillip felt a tear trickle down his face as he collapsed onto his chair as he read the final words of the letter.

He then moved onto the letter he wrote to their father which Phillip decided not to read.

He then stumbled across seven unfinished letters that he intended to send to one young lady named Marina Thompson.

Marina Thompson was a young woman who Phillip had met briefly, no more than two times, he barely even knew her but he knew his brother was positively infatuatedly taken with her. They had known each other mere months but they already professed their love for each other.

George and Marina met and fell in love in the autumn of 1812 when he had returned briefly from war training for some respite. Mere weeks later, he proposed marriage to the young lady and the two were betrothed, planning to marry on his second break in six months. 

Thomas Crane did not approve of Marina, viewing her breeding and her close proximately to the common farm folk too unbecoming of a future lady of the household. The lack of support from Sir Thomas Crane did not deter them as George and Marina planned to obtain a marriage license and elope when the time was right.

When George left for war, Marina was sent back to her father and Phillip hadn’t heard from her again as he was too focused on his studies to care about his brother’s shenanigans and female pursuits.

Phillip was shell-shocked to now find out through letters that not only did his brother lay with the woman out of wedlock, but that she now was with child. How could his brother be so reckless?

One supposed Phillip shouldn’t be surprised. George always was the more careless one.

“How is it we are just today obtaining these letters?” Phillip inquired.

 “The General was made aware of these letters after an inquiry was made by a certain Duchess of Hastings who is closely connected to Miss Marina Thompson,” Miles Carter said.

The name sounded familiar. The Hastings dukedom rather. Phillip remembered his father conducting some business dealings with the previous Duke of Hastings.

“Do you have any idea where the young miss might be currently?” He asked.

“I’ll look into it, my lord.” Miles Carter stated, nodding his head before exiting the study and closing the door behind him.

Phillip did not know how far along she was into the pregnancy. For all he knew, she could have already given birth and if anyone ever found out the child was conceived with a Crane out of wedlock, it could spell ruin for the estate and the family.

Despite Phillip’s reluctance, the responsibility was now his to keep the estate running until the next generation.

And the next generation was now in Miss Marina Thompson’s womb.

He knew what he must do.

He had to wed her.

“Lord, we managed to locate Marina’s whereabouts. She resides in Mayfair,” The Rt. Honorable, Mr. Miles Carter called for him as he entered his father’s—his study, the next morning.

Phillip looked up to meet the eyes of the elder gentleman as he extended his hand out with an envelope attached to his hand.

He took the envelope with a nod, “Thank you, Mr. Carter. Mayfair? How on earth did she find herself there?” He asked.

“She appears to have distant familial ties to a family that resides there,” Miles Carter explained. “The Featherington House!”

Phillip furrowed his brows with uncertainty, “Featherington House? I have never heard of them before. Should I be aware of who they are?” He probed.

Mr. Miles Carter sighed, “Perhaps, you are all the more better off being blissfully unaware of their existence, sir.” He explained.

Phillip Crane managed to crack open a small smile –the first one he could muster in weeks.  Miles’ dry sense of humor was certainly welcome in a house where laughter was never in abundance, especially now where nothing but grief filled the entire house –the servants have all been despondent ever since George’s death.

“Should I prepare a carriage for tomorrow morning, my lord?” He asked.

Phillip should his head. “No. We leave today –In an hour to be exact! No point in delaying it further,” He told him.

They arrived at Featherington House and he proposed marriage to the young lady out of mere duty and honor of the Crane name and for the love of his brother because he knew this would what he would want. Despite Marina’s initial protest, he returned to collect his new bride and brought her back home and they wed.

For the rest of the duration of the pregnancy, Phillip and Marina lived very separately from one another. They did not communicate unless it was strictly necessary. There was no ire between them, quite the contrary, but they were not friends. Cordial, but not friends.

Marina did not seem happy to be at Romney Hall, not least because she was surrounded by the memories and thoughts of her late intended and father of her child.

Regardless, Phillip still attempted to make her stay here most comfortable for her. Since she was the new lady of the house, Phillip gave her permission to oversee and do as she saw fit with the interior decorations and upkeep of the estate which she seemed to enjoy as it kept her busy and entertained –at least for a little while.

The time arrived for the birth and Marina gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl –shocking the entire household. Phillip Crane spent the entire pregnancy viewing Marina and her condition as a mistake his late brother made, that she would only be bringing to the world his illegitimate niece and nephew.

Little did he realize, nor fully understand the heavy responsibility that he now bore. These two children may be his niece and nephew by blood but for all intents and purposes, they were now his children. His responsibility.

Phillip let Marina name the children, but he certainly hoped she did not go overboard because he did not entertain the idea of calling these children by absurd monikers such as Archibald or Balthazar or Loveday or Allegra.

He thanked the gods that she chose to name the boy and girl, Oliver and Amanda. Traditional, yet simple and pleasing to the ear and tongue.

Phillip and Marina may have never had an intimate, romantic relationship but they had a mutual understanding with one another. Especially in regards to the children. They were their top priority.

Marina was fulfilled with motherhood, at least that’s what Phillip hoped she was. Motherhood kept her busy and content, while he could tend to his plants and find some peace and solace amidst the chaos in his life.

As the children grew older, Phillip and Marina developed a routine. Phillip would spend time with the children so that she could rest or enjoy a book to read, take a trip to the modiste or whatever she wanted and then after a few hours, she took over so that he could tend to his botany. And once the children were off to bed, they went off about their day doing other pursuits.  The system worked well for them.

Sure, it would have been easier if they spent time together and actually got to know each other but Marina was not for it. She, however, preferred they kept their interests separate. She didn’t much care to hear about his passions, interests and aspirations –something she is unafraid to make known to him that’s for sure.

Upon the sudden, unexpected arrival of Mister Colin Bridgerton—a man Phillip was made aware Marina was previously affianced to— it was made crystal clear to Phillip that Marina felt ashamed about Phillip’s vocation. She thought him to be strange and uninteresting –much like the sentiments his father shared about him.

Since that day, he respected her wishes and vowed to refrain from ever speaking about plants, or history, or mathematics or his various travels across the continent, in her presence to spare her of any blushes. He respected Marina, although there was no love there, there was respect for her as a woman.

She did not ask for this.

Phillip had enormous sympathy for her situation. As a woman, there were not many opportunities afforded to her to do anything else but be a subservient wife and doting mother to her children so she would be forgiven if she didn’t care to hear about a man’s joy in doing things she would otherwise never be allowed to because of her sex.

Phillip found the current system to be deeply flawed in the way women were relegated and segregated from ever wanting to be something greater beyond their present plight. He took several lectures in university that he felt a woman would more likely excel much better in than a man, such as languages. He learned more from his governesses growing up than he ever did from his Latin and English professor at Cambridge.

The feminine nurturing way in which women naturally are is something many universities would certainly benefit from today. Not everything needed to be so rigid and cold. That’s not a kind of environment that would inspire any type of learning for students –it is no wonder many students hate attending classes and would rather just slip away for rendezvous with prostitutes.

In any case, Phillip understood the systematic way in which women were treated in society and did believe it needed to change. And times were certainly changing in various parts of the world –not massive changes, but changes nonetheless – particularly in the Americas where women were given more and more vocational opportunities that were previously seen as purely for men such as clerical work. 

The Americans were certainly a liberal bunch as opposed to the conservative, stiff-upper-lipped folk here. 

Phillip always hoped to one day travel there, study some of the plants that exist in those parts of the world, learn the history of the country and meet some extraordinary people along the way.

Those plans were, however, dashed upon his brother’s unfortunate passing…

And the pangs of that loss lingers throughout the household because of Marina…

Phillip despised nothing more than a melancholic atmosphere. Melancholy terrified him and made him uneasy. More than anything. More than fire, more than war, more than hell itself. The thought of sinking into sadness, like his mother…

Like…like Marina…

Marina was happy to display a cheerful image in the public glare, but behind closed doors, she was deeply saddened. The pain in her eyes were evident to everyone.

And it only got progressively worse as the children got older.

Marina was a terrific mother and the children positively adored her, but, she was still unhappy and unfulfilled. When she put the children to bed at night, she would collapse near the fireplace and weep and weep and weep.

Phillip would return at the wee hours of the night from the greenhouse finding her curled up in a fetal position in tears as she read the letters she shared in correspondence to George. She loved him. She missed him every day. She missed him so much that it was torturous for her to even breathe every morning.

And Phillip knew it. Phillip knew that every time she looked at him, she thought of George because it didn’t help that they looked strikingly similar to one another. Phillip had curly brown hair, just as George did. Phillip had vivid blue eyes, like that of typical blooms of cornflower and that resembled the ones George had as well –a trait they both received from their late mother.

Marina confided in him one rare night and told Phillip all her deepest regrets in life. She regretted resenting George for his perceived abandonment of her during her condition, she regretted not begging him to stay, she regretted threatening to end her pregnancy with the twins that almost killed all three of them, she regretted all the schemes she committed during her stint in Mayfair and she told Phillip that she regretted marrying him.

She did not elaborate further as she soon drifted off into a deep sleep after her confessions. Phillip did not know what to make of all that was said, so he simply just carried her sleeping frame over to her bed chamber and tucked her in that night.

And they never spoke about it since.

As the years bled, it seemed like Marina was finally getting to a place of good health.

But then the children became a problem. They grew more wearisome and troublesome as they got to the age where they were able to reach for things, grab things and destroy things. They got smarter and were able to find hiding places that would soon prove to be a constant challenge for the household. They became hell-raisers –wreaking havoc wherever they turned.

Oliver and Amanda loved to pull tricks ever since they were four years old. They performed various tricks and pranks on the members of staff; from pulling hairs and dresses as they ran past the maids, running around the kitchen, dumping flour over people’s heads from the balcony, you name it.

Phillip tried to intervene where he could but he knew himself too well to know he could not do it all on his own.

Over the course of a year, he watched Marina’s demeanor and disposition steadily decline. Once ago, she could have easily been a reliable, stern, strict and punitive figure who could handle the children but her melancholy temperament returned and she had given up all the fight in her body.

Phillip knew his household would crumble if he didn’t put a stop to all of this.

He enlisted the assistance of nurses who he sought after and hired to control his children. He thought this would just be a phase for them and with proper discipline they would be straightened to the path of good mannerisms.

The first nurse, Nurse Routledge who was great at keeping the kids occupied, soon fell prey to the tricks of unruly twins and she requested a leave of absence after a mere six months.

The second nurse, Nurse Higgins, was too soft spoken and good natured to genuinely be able to handle pair and she was sent home crying.

Phillip then thought to enlist the help of a trusted nurse he had known since he was a child, who helped guide and raise him and his brother as little boys.

Nurse Millsby was proven to be heaven sent because the children soon were contained and for a year they both, albeit still naughty from time to time, seemed rather controlled and tempered down.

Phillip then took this time as an opportunity to call upon a priest who was able to bestow some biblical wisdom and counsel to Marina, helping her break free from this emotional plight she was under.

Phillip never considered himself a religious person, he believed in science not religion, but he exhausted all options to help her –from herbal remedies he prepared himself, allowing her to speak about her emotions to a confidant which she refused and even thinking of sending her to a hospital –that turning to God was his last resort. He so hoped for Marina to get better. Not for him but for the kids.

He wondered if they were acting up because they sought the attention from their mother who although was a permanent and present fixture in their lives –she still showered them with love and affection – the children could still sense that her heart was not fully invested in it. Children had incredible powers of discernment, and great intuition. They knew their mother was unwell and one would suppose their various tricks and chaos they caused was an outlet or their own sick, twisted way at possibly attempting to cheer her up?

Marina was a good mother. Phillip did not doubt that. And the children adored her.

But, if she did not get better soon, he worried if the children would lose her for good somehow.

And Phillip did not know he was a good enough father to handle the children on his own.

She had to get better.

End of Mid-Flashback

Phillip shook his head as he stopped reminiscing about the bad times in his life and left the window to prepare for the morning. After bathing, he made his way down the stairs to see his servants cleaning up the place.

“Is Lady Crane still asleep?” Sir Phillip asked one of the maids.

“Indeed she is, Sir Phillip.” The newest maid, Doris, curtseyed to him as soon as she saw him.

Phillip sighed, waving his hand, “Please, Doris. Do not call me by my formal title, call me Phillip.” He reminded her.

She nodded, bowing her head and curtseying, “Yes, Sir Phillip.” She said, as a force of habit. He sighed. “Forgive me, Sir Phillip—Yes, sir—Eh…” She nervously stammered.

Phillip chuckled as he shoved his shirt into his outdoor working breeches, and then he sauntered to dining area where his food was laid out to him by one of the servers. He smiled at the young man as he took his seat at the head.

“Thank you, Ferdinand,” He told the young boy as he opened the tray lid to reveal a plate of scrambled eggs, two hardboiled and poached eggs and a side of crumpets with slices of tomatoes.

Phillip ate a considerable number of eggs –a dozen a day to be exact – to feed his rather large physique. All the boxing and working in the garden has made him rather imposing to many people unfortunately even though he would think he was soft-natured at heart –much like the poached egg he was currently enjoying. 

Miles Carter entered the room with a binder in his grasp.

“Good morning, my lord.” Miles greeted warmly.

“Mr. Carter! Please, have a seat! Take some bread! There is plenty.” He motioned to the plate beside him.

“There will be no need for that, sire. However, I appreciate the offer. I do have a packed schedule for today as I am meeting with the solicitors to confirm that your work trip to Edinburgh is still a go,” He informed.

“Oh! Right! Remind me again when that is?”

“In a week, sire.” He answered, jotting a date down in his notebook. “You also received a letter from Lord Debling this morning,” He added, stretching out an envelope to him.

“Lord Debling? Golly, when last have I heard from him.” He chuckled as he took it and began reading it. “Ah! He wishes to notify me that he is returning from his trip in over a month. Should be great to see him again,”

Lord Alfred Debling was a longtime companion and confidante of Phillip Crane from way back in their days at the University of Cambridge. They were in the same year and shared similar lectures and studies as well as sharing a house with multiple other students. They got along well in their shared, likeminded passion for nature.

“Hopefully this time he can find a wife,” Phillip chuckled.

Miles Carter hummed. “Indeed, although, I wouldn’t hold my breath. He is very particular in his choices and I fear he might be too much of an acquired taste for the newest debutantes,”

“Mister Carter, you doth playeth too much!” Phillip chuckled as he poked fun at the teasing gentleman, quoting Shakespeare.

“In any case,” Miles moved along. “I take it you are visiting the greenhouse?”

“Yes, the day is exceptionally warm today given that it’s the dead of winter and the sun is shining bright, I think it a great day to be out, is not?” Phillip spoke.

“Indeed,”

“Please do tell Nurse Millsby to bring the children out for a walk to get some fresh air when they wake. And Marina as well,” Phillip stated.

“I take it she will be having breakfast with the children when they wake?” Miles Carter asked.

Phillip nodded.

"Very well," Miles Carter stated with a smile and a firm nod. 

After Phillip had his breakfast, he went to the greenhouse to begin his work. He re-soiled the pot plants and checked the temperature of each plant in sight. He then rolled up his sleeves up until his elbows and rolled up the hem of his breeches above his knees to begin dislodging various plants and relocating them to outside as he prepared for the sunny season to approach as spring heavy loomed, and began planting the flowerbeds.

After he was done, he went outside to begin pruning the trees and bushes. Although he had gardeners for that, Phillip did not mind doing it himself.

He heard the laughter of his children from back at the house. He darted his head up and back to look ahead, squinting through the ultra violet rays, to see the twins walking out, Oliver running around the lawn whilst Amanda held on tightly to Marina’s hand.

Phillip couldn’t help but smile.

It was good to see Marina out and about.

He then continued to prune the bushes.

The sun on his neck as he worked felt like a welcome back to the outdoors. He could hear faint the laughter, high-pitched, the sounds of his children escaping the cumbersome coats and gloves of winter. There was the heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The crocus that have been patiently waiting under the blanket of snow are now pushing up through the dead layer of leaves from last year. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms that were sprouting out with the welcome of the sunny day are a feast to behold. Phillip could feel somehow renewed, excited about the possibilities.

When he was sufficiently completed with his task, he grabbed the bucket of leaves and branches and began sauntering back up the evergreen yardage to dispose of the waste behind the greenhouse and then reappeared to walk up to his family.

“Father!” Amanda shrieked out in excitement as she made a beeline for him and hugged his legs.

Phillip was not an affectionate person at all, at least, he wasn’t as affectionate as Marina when it came to the children but during Marina’s episodes, Amanda turned to him for cuddles and kisses and Phillip learned to just accept it and give it back to her. That was what co-parenting was about after all. Helping out when the other parent couldn’t and Amanda was just the sweetest little angel—when she wasn’t influenced by her older brother— how could you not melt in her presence?

“Morning, Amanda! How did you sleep?” He greeted her, patting her shoulder and laying a soft kiss on her curly dark brown hair.

She looked at him with her big, hazel-chocolate brown eyes that were so much like her mother’s but her smile was identical to his brother George. A smile that caused heart ache to Phillip every time he saw it.

“I slept well, father! I apologize for waking you up in the middle of the night!” She said sincerely.

He smiled at her, “It is fine, my dear. You had a nightmare. I was happy to help make it go away.” He told her.

Marina was watching the entire interaction with heart ache and pain because all she could imagine was George being the one doting on their lovely daughter in this way, not Phillip.

“Lovely morning to see you out,” Phillip remarked, walking up to his wife.

Marina flashed a small, yet unenthusiastic smile, her eyes not meeting his though. 

“How are you doing, my dear?” Phillip asked Marina. Marina didn’t reply. “Marina?”

Marina snapped back to reality. “Hmm? Oh, apologies, my lord. I—I seem to have been lost in deep thought,” She replied, setting her glass of lemonade on the table. “Care for some lemonade?”

“Do not mind if I do, gladly. Thank you,” He said with a small smirk, trying to provide some levity but she was not taking it. He exhaled a sigh as he poured himself a glass and took a sip.

“Father, may Amy and I please go for a swim?” Oliver asked his father –the handsome young boy with a head full of thick, big, black curls that were just like his mother Marina’s and a facial structure and nose that was one hundred percent a Crane trait.

“I do not know, my boy. It is still winter. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold,” Phillip replied, sipping his drink.

Oliver showed his pleading eyes, clasping his hands together and dropping down to his knees near Phillip’s feet, “Please, father! Please! Please! Please! The sun is only out once in winter!”

Phillip chuckled, “No, Oliver,”

He pouted, crossing his arms together. “You are not fair!”

Phillip sighed. “Ask your mother,” Phillip said to him, turning to Marina and hoping he would agree with her as he didn’t want to seem like the bad parent who was denying their child of some fun.

Marina looked at both of her children and said something he didn’t expect, “Do as you wish,” She said with a soft smile, but it was still very uncharacteristic of her.

Usually Marina was so strict with the children, but today she was so…defeated? As if she didn’t care what they got up to so long as she got her own moment of peace?

Phillip wondered where Nurse Millsby was. He asked Miles to tell her to take the children out for a walk. Perhaps, she ought to be here to keep an eye out on them (and on Marina).

“I am going to freshen up and get some work done. Oliver and Amanda, no swimming in the lake.” He said, sternly. They moaned and cried. “No crying! Keep your mother company! I will return in a short moment,” He informed before disappearing into the house.

“Where is Nurse Millsby?” He asked one of the servants.

“She went out to run an errand but she will be back shortly,” She responded to him.

Phillip nodded, “Thank you,”

The children would likely be well occupied with their mother in the meantime while he gets out of his outdoor wear and got some of his work done.

But his comforts were soon compromised when he heard a piercingly loud cry coming from outside.

He ran out of his office and towards the backyard door where some servants were congregated to see a body in the lake, gasping and coming up for air as they sank.

He watched his daughter, Amanda, sobbing tearfully as she watched the body begin to sink further and further into the pool of water.

“Amanda!” Phillip retorted in a loud, alerting, deep and commanding tone of voice that caused Marina to suddenly jerk back to reality as she woke up, unaware of her dozing to sleep on the garden chair and table.

She looked ahead to see her son drowning in the murky lake.

Her heart sank as tears flooded her eyes, “Oliver!” She shrieked as she shot up from her chair and charged straight for the lake, with Phillip right on her tail. “Oliver!” She yelped as she ran so incredibly fast that when her feet touched the water, she practically toppled right into the underwater dirt before lifting her head up and beginning to swim towards her son who was limp now as his body sank into the water.

She dived into the water and pulled his body out, bringing him back up. His eyes were sealed shut and his body was motionless.

Marina began to weep profusely, “Oliver! No! Please, no! Oliver!” She sobbed, gripping his face and shaking his body awake.

Phillip appeared and practically ran over the water to get to them.

“Amanda! Go back inside!” He ordered his daughter who was crying profusely. “Now!” He shouted.

She flinched at the forcefulness in his tone but quickly obliged and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her.

“Oliver!” Marina cried out, pleading and begging for him to wake up.

“Bring him to me,” Phillip urged, reaching for his son’s body. Marina growled back at him.

“No! This is my son! This is George’s son! Not yours!” She snarled, her tears filling her entire face.

Phillip’s heart broke at her cutting words. For seven years, he raised the children as if they were his own and for a while it felt like they really were his own blood children but Marina’s words revealed just what a fantasy it all was to him. They were indeed his brother’s children, not his. And that was the root of the problem. That was Marina’s plague.

She resented him for not being George. For not being the biological father of her children.

“Marina, please let me help him.” He implored.

She looked down at the boy, but let Phillip take his body and watched as he carried him to the grass as Phillip immediately went to resuscitate him, by pressing against his chest and clearing out his airwaves.

He pressed against his chest and counted the number of times he compressed until Oliver’s body began to heave again, catching his breath and coming to an awakening.

Oliver coughed up all the excess water in his lungs and Phillip exhaled a sigh of relief, his breath bating.

Marina sobbed as she threw herself over her little boy, “Oh, Oliver! Mother is so sorry!”

“Mama?” He whispered out to her.

“I am here!” She cooed, caressing his forehead and planting kisses over his face before running her fingers through his damp hair. “I am here, my love.”

Phillip stared at the mother with shock, awe and also fear.

Shock because this was the most emotion she ever showed in what felt like years.

Awe because she heroically went to save her son from drowning.

Fear because…This wouldn’t have happened had she not been in the current state she was.

And…unfortunately, Marina knew it too.

She blamed herself for what transpired that day. She told Phillip that it was a momentary lapse of judgment for her as she was trying to nurse a debilitating headache that has been affecting her for days.

Phillip reassured her that he understood and that it was not her fault. It could’ve happened to him had he been the one with the headache.

Marina promised that she would get better, both physically and emotionally so that she would be there for her children and be present for them.

And for the next few days, it truly seemed like she would get better for her children.

But the headache that had been giving her so many sleepless nights and it seemed to progressively get worse; going from a severe headache, to chills, muscle aches and spasms, weakness and fatigue. Phillip assumed it was just a fever she was catching so he gave her medicine to help, but then she started developing other symptoms like pain and swelling on all of her joints, redness under her eyes and experiencing jerky, shaky uncontrollable movements of the limbs.

He decided he should call upon the medical doctor, as this was not in his line of expertise. He had not seen anything like it.

The doctor took a look at her and then confirmed that she indeed was running with a fever but an aggressive form of it which was a combination of a typhoid and rheumatic fever.

He estimated that if she didn’t show signs of recovering in three days, she would soon succumb to her wounds.

When Phillip told Marina about this, she accepted it. Phillip couldn’t understand it but it felt as though she knew it would happen and accepted the defeat. She implored him to look after her children and love them as if they were his own –something that he had always done. Her final words to him were…

“I am sorry for the way I treated you. I have been unfair to you. You have been nothing but kind to me and a loving father to my dear children. I hope you can one day forgive me for any pain I caused you. I loved your brother, George so much it became unbearable to carry on without him. Now I get to be with him again. Tell the children of how much I loved them, and how I will miss them. You are all they have now, Phillip. They need you.” She croaked out the final three words before she faded away…

…End of Flashback... 

Phillip flipped his eyes open suddenly as he jerked into a startling awakening; his breath catching as his chest heaved intensely.

It has been over a month since Marina passed and her subsequent funeral yet it still felt raw; as if it happened yesterday.

Marina died, not in the way Phillip originally thought she would by self-inflicted means, but in a way that was rather unfortunate because she was determined to get well for her children, for herself and yet…illness creeps up on anyone, at an unforeseen moment like a thief in the night, ready to take them away.

And…

And she died after heroically and protectively saving her own child from drowning.

And that's the way he wanted Oliver and Amanda to remember her. Not her melancholy but of the strong, immense love she had for them. 

Phillip will never forget that traumatic, eventful day.

And he would never forget that final week with Marina.

But today was a new day…

The day was brought about with the usual busy, bustling noise of the house –several members of the staff scurried around to get the house ready before the family awakened. Sir Phillip preferred to wake before the light hit his window every day the morning broke. It wasn’t because he considered himself an early riser, but it was just much easier for him to wake up just before dawn because given his circumstances, in an hour or two, he wouldn’t have much sleep anyway.

He lay in his bed, his head cushioned into the soft pillow on the right-hand side of his bed, his eyes wide open as he stared at the door and did a mental countdown in his head.

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two…

On the final second, a loud, clanking noise of different kitchenware; porcelain, bone china, stoneware, steel and glass objects falling and shattering onto the floors downstairs echoed throughout the house.

And then…silence.

Phillip did not peel his eyes away from the door as he anticipated the inevitable.

After a brief pause of silence, then came…

Screams!

Ah!

There it was!

From there on, all hell seemed to break loose as multiple voices of people either screaming in shock, shouting out the words to ‘watch out!’ before several screams followed soon after, with sounds likening the sounds of a bomb –but in reality, Phillip reckoned it was just the human bodies of his staff toppling over and collapsing to the floor.

And then he heard giggles.

Not just any giggles.

Two mischievous, meddlesome giggles of the twins!

“Master Oliver! You get back here this instant!” Miles Carter shouted out.

Phillip groaned in frustration as he buried his face into his pillow and shrieked, his voice muffled by the fabric. He would have to talk to his children…again.

He wondered if anything he said to them just traveled out the other ear. Nurse Millsby needed to return as soon as possible.

She was away for the spring break to spend time with her family and grandkids in the city. For as long as Phillip had known Millsby, he never registered that she might have a family, let alone grandchildren. He just naturally assumed all women who chose to work were all unmarried or widowed without children.

He supposed that was only reserved to certain governesses. Or perhaps it was just another stereotype given to women who choose to have their own vocation, as if women are incapable of holding a job and being a homemaker.

He shot his head up and jumped out of the bed and reached for his pocket watch to check the time. He had a lot of work to attend to.

He scratched the hairs on his bare, hardened chest and stood up to begin the day.

After freshening up, he got dressed and went down the stairs, meeting with the servants who were now cleaning up the mess in the kitchen and the foyer.

He greeted the servants with an acknowledging nod of the head.

They acknowledged him with a bow and curtsey to which he rolled his eyes over but ignored it.

Instead of heading for his usual breakfast, he went straight into his office to attend to his work.

It had been nearly seven years since he became the baron of his father’s estate. He wondered what his life would be like had his older brother not died at Waterloo, thrusting the second-born son into the role of landowner and country gentleman.

He supposed it could have been worse. He could have been landowner and city gentleman, after all. At least here he was able to pursue his botanical pursuits in relative serenity away from the pretentious members of the ton.

Marina’s death was still so raw that Phillip didn’t find any time to check the accounts. The presence of Miles Carter was a grateful one, who, was more than happy to bookkeep, while Phillip tended to his grieving children.

The prescribed mourning period was completed and now he was eager to get back to it. He had been told that now would be the opportune time to start considering finding a replacement mother for Oliver and Amanda by many of his peers.

He found the suggestion to be disrespectful and frankly, revolting, not just to him but to Marina as well. Despite her flaws, Marina was a wonderful mother most of the time when she was alive. To think anybody would easily replace that kind of love was deeply upsetting to him –as he was also a boy who lost a mother at a young age.

He had a revolving door of stepmothers (or rather just his father's mistresses) growing up who wanted nothing to do with him or his older brother when they were young so he didn’t think finding a new mother for them would be any different.

No, he would have to do this by his lonesome. Maybe he could consider hiring a new governess at some point? A second governess who was younger and more in tune with modern day child-raising? Maybe a young woman who could teach the children some valuable lessons? Nurse Millsby could not handle it all on her own. She was advanced in years, nearly nine and sixty.

The children needed a new governess who would teach them the value of respect—because god knows they need to learn respect—but also a governess who was independent in her own right. A woman who was unapologetic in her own opinions, and passionate in her beliefs.

One who wouldn’t be easily swayed by the charms of children because the children certainly needed to be brought down a peg or two? Phillip thought in jest.

Truly, however, Amanda would greatly benefit from having a woman around who is strong-willed. Amanda was a rather shy little girl, and Phillip knew how many men would take advantage of that shyness.

And Oliver ought to learn the importance of respecting women because he constantly seems to target the women of this house whenever he plays his little tricks.

Phillip scoffed at the suggestion that he would ever find such a woman.

The women in society (at least the women he has met) were too subservient and permissible and blissfully unaware of the world beyond their own that it made talking to them a challenge. He has yet to meet a person he could connect with on an intellectual level. Someone who truly understands him and vice versa.

That was perhaps one of the main reasons why he didn’t seek a wife, mainly because the type of woman he was looking for probably doesn’t exist.

At least not in England.

Maybe in the Americas…

He chuckled as he took a seat by his desk and grabbed his book binders that kept all his accounts. He began paging through them all before exhaling a sigh, slumping in his seat.

“Sir Phillip?”

He looked up, cursing himself for leaving the study door slightly ajar. Miles Carter, his secretary, was poking his head in.

“Yes, Mister Carter. What is it?” He asked. "Please tell me the children haven't done something horrendous to your bedchamber?" 

"No, sir but you ought to speak to that boy of yours! He's been a tiresome little beast of late." Miles remarked. 

Phillip sighed, "Yes, I will get to it soon enough I assure you. Apologies for the morning." He said, sincerely. 

Miles nodded, "This morning's events did inspire a little laughter I suppose," He snickered. 

Phillip smiled before glancing down at the tray. "What do you have there?" 

“Letters of condolences, sir.” He said, bringing forth a large tray of assorted letters.

Ah.

Yes.

Letters of condolences.

Marina’s funeral had a rather small turnout given that she didn’t have much connections from her own home, but most of the people who did show up came from the city so she made some sort of impact it seemed.

Colin Bridgerton and his wife along with the Featherington family showed up to the funeral.

Marina mentioned once that the family did not particularly welcome her warmly, however, Penelope showed her kindness so it was pleasant to see her present –although she looked oddly uncomfortable though whenever she saw him. Phillip wondered why that was the case.

A few of them left letters to Phillip and her children.

He thought it be high time he responded to the many letters of condolences he received from different people. Friends, family and strangers alike. Oh, my.

Phillip looked down as Miles set the tray on the table and reached for the very first letter that he saw.

He raised it in the air to read the handwriting, cocking his eyebrows at the obviously feminine slant to it.

“Lord Debling, is also due to arrive shortly,” Miles Carter stated.

“Thank you,” He dismissed Miles with a nod, and then picked up his letter opener and slid it under the wax.

A single sheet of paper fell out. Phillip rubbed it between his fingers. High, good quality. Very expensive. Heavy, too, and thick, a clear sign that the sender need not economize to reduce franking costs.

Then he turned it over and read it:

No. 5, Bond Street, Mayfair, London

Dear Sir Phillip Crane,

I am writing this letter to express my deepest condolences on the loss of your wife, Marina. It appears that your letter has mistakenly been delivered to Bridgerton House which I assume you expected it to be delivered to my brother Colin. I want to inform you that my brother has taken up residence at Featherington House now.  Either way, my sympathies still stand.

I haven’t had the pleasure to know Marina that well but I heard she was a lovely young woman. I will pass along the sentiments to my brother.

Please do not hesitate to write back if you ever need someone to talk to. I am not known by my family as someone who could provide any comfort but I will try my best :)   . If there is anything I can do to ease your pain during this difficult time, let me know.

Yours truly,

Miss Eloise Bridgerton

He frowned as he thought back to his recent correspondence with Mister Bridgerton from the last few months and then grumbled as he realized he mailed the letter to the wrong house. Of course! Colin Bridgerton wouldn’t be living at Bridgerton House anymore as it was probably being overseen by the new head of the household and his older brother.

Curses. Phillip thought.

Now Miss Bridgerton and anyone at Bridgerton House who might have stumbled across the letter probably thought him to be dimwitted.

Phillip contemplated whether to write back to her but, he inadvertently went to reach for his own stationery and quill.

It was common courtesy to respond to a letter someone thought to write to, not least because Miss Bridgerton had the best penmanship he had ever seen. He wondered if she dabbled in calligraphy. Either way, it was evident she was a proficient and prolific writer in her spare time.

Miss Bridgerton deserved a reply. It felt like the right thing to do. It would be rude not to. And something was knotting in his stomach coaxing him to write to her.

And so, with a weary breath, he began to put his quill to paper.

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for your kind words of encouragement and your hearty condolences. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a gentleman you have never met. It was also thoughtful of you to not make the said gentleman feel like a fool for unintentionally sending the wrong letter to the wrong house.

It is much appreciated, truly. I offer you this pressed flower as a token of my appreciation. It is a lovely aromatic pink-red peony (paeonia spp) with lavender thistles that perfumes the fields here in Gloucestershire and indeed they seem to have arrived just in time for the blooming time of year, spring! Hopefully this brightens up your day.

Sincerely,

Phillip Crane

Usually he would be expected to sign off as ‘Sir Phillip Crane’ but even after seven years, it still felt odd to him to use that name. He didn’t particularly like the peerage system but he should be relieved he wasn’t a duke or an earl or a viscount. Surely that would have driven him insane.

He signed off the letter with a simple drawing off the flower before slipping it into a textured envelope and sealing it shut before summoning Miles Carter back in.

“Yes, sir!” The secretary answered, he poked his head through the door. 

“Would you kindly send this letter back to Bridgerton House? It appears it has been long overdue,” Phillip spoke.

“Right away, my lord,” He took the envelope and left the room.

Phillip sighed as he sinked back down in his chair and managed to form a tiny smile.

That letter brought him the first glimmer of happiness in quite a while.

Chapter Text

Can't you hear me?
I'm not comin' home
Do you understand?
I've changed my plans

'Cause I, I'm in love
With my future
Can't wait to meet her
And I, I'm in love
But not with anybody else
Just wanna get to know myself

I know supposedly I'm lonely now (lonely now)
Know I'm supposed to be unhappy
Without someone (someone)
But aren't I someone? (Aren't I someone? Yeah)
I'd (I'd) like to be your answer (be your answer)
'Cause you're so handsome (you're so handsome)

But I know better
Than to drive you home
'Cause you'd invite me in
And I'd be yours again

My Future - Billie Eilish(orchestral cello instrumental) 

CHAPTER 3

March 23^rd, 1821

Next morning, Eloise was enjoying her daily morning reading while she sat by her window, feeling the sunrays soaking up in her pores.

She was disrupted in her serene moment of peace, by the wretched sounds of her younger sister singing –more like screeching– in her bed chamber that was right next to hers.

Ever since many of the Bridgerton siblings fled the nest because of marriage, Eloise, Gregory and Hyacinth were permitted the reigns to pick whatever boundless bed chamber space available to occupy.

Eloise had the privilege of claiming Daphne’s when she first moved out; not only did her chamber have the largest breathing room, it also received the best lighting in the entire house and it was the most quiet space of all, so Eloise could have an element peace and tranquility she so richly desired in a house of seven siblings.

With her sisters and brothers now wed, it meant more room to go around for the remaining children and it was just Eloise’s ‘luck’ that Hyacinth decided to choose the room right next to hers as soon as Francesca left the house.

Gregory’s old room was turned into a nursery for Miles upon his birth, and Gregory was then relocated to one of their older brother’s rooms. He was now dwelling in Benedict’s old bed chamber—whenever he isn’t off at Oxford for the majority of the year of course— which he claimed before Benedict even made it to the altar. 

“La la la!” Eloise heard her sister harmonize in a syrupy, melodic tone that made her want to grate her ears. The melody had earmarks of a butchered rendition of Beethoven’s Cavatina, Symphony 19. String Quartet in B-Flat Major –although, to Eloise it just sounded flat.

Eloise grumbled as she covered her ears with her hands as Hyacinth hit a high note that would shatter glass and even cause the fat lady to stop singing.

“Hyacinth!” Eloise yelled, as she closed her book shut. Hyacinth did not seem to hear her.

With a disgruntled countenance, Eloise then got up off her chair and marched her way out of her chamber and straight to the source of the annoyance.

“Hyacinth! If you do not cease that dreadful, cacophonic screeching you call singing!” Eloise yelped behind her door.

Hyacinth ignored her; in fact, she doubled down on her singing and sang the tune even louder. Eloise rolled her eyes in irritation.

She couldn’t fathom how with half of her siblings all gone, she still suffered the brunt of all the remnants of their aggravating presence. They might as well all be in one house again.

“Eloise! Leave the poor girl alone! She obviously just cannot contain her excitement for her debut any longer,” Lady Violet Anderson said to her daughter as she made an appearance.

Eloise glared at her mother. “Why must we be the ones to suffer from it though?” She questioned. “If she’s going to bless us with her tragic singing, she does not need to be so loud about it,”

Violet sighed, looking her daughter up and down with a pitiful facial expression before turning her focus onto her youngest daughter’s bedchamber door, “Hyacinth! Oh, I hope you are doing more than just singing, my dear! We ought to be ready to leave in due time or we will be late for your presentation!”

“I’ll be just a moment, mama!” Hyacinth called back before simultaneous giggles echoed through the walls as she uttered something to the handmaidens helping her get ready. 

“Grandmama!” The little voices of children filled the air, startling Eloise as she looked over her mother’s shoulders to see the pitter patter of her nephews; Edmund, Miles and Augustus running in a single file towards Violet.

“Oh! Boys! Be careful!” Violet laughed as she turned around and bent down to embrace them in a group hug before scooping the littlest one, Miles in her arms. “How are you doing my boy?” She whispered to him as she planted a soft, gentle, maternal kiss on his cheek.

“Is our little Miss Princess delaying her own debut?” Anthony Bridgerton entered the room, carrying with him his niece Belinda whilst Kate walked closely behind him, holding the hand of their other niece Caroline.

“It appears so,” Eloise responded.

“She seems to be pleasantly chirpy this morning, as per usual.”’ Kate mentioned.

“And she’s quite a fiend about it as well!” Eloise murmured, which earned a nudge from her mother. “Complimentary!” She defended herself.

“How do you call someone a fiend and mean it as a compliment, sister?” Her annoying older brother Benedict spoke as he entered the room alongside Daphne who was carrying her sleeping son David in her arms.

Eloise glared at Benedict, “Perhaps I should have said it to you!”

Benedict chuckled, winking at his favorite younger sister. “Shouldn’t we be getting going?”

“In just a moment!” Hyacinth exclaimed, taking a brief pause from her irksome singing before resuming instantly.

Benedict groaned as he adjusted his white gloves, “Someone please put a muzzle on her mouth when she leaves her room to relieve us from that torturous off key humming.”

Eloise giggled as she nudged her brother’s arm which made the two of them laugh even harder together –which earned another scolding glare from their mother Violet; effectively prompting them to silence.

“Where’s Colin and Penelope?” Anthony questioned, setting Belinda down onto the floor as she ran over to her sister’s side.

“They said they would meet the rest of the family there,” Eloise answered.

Anthony pulled out the chain of his pocket watch that was dangling, to glance at the time.

“What is holding her up?” He asked his siblings.

“She has been readying the entire morning,” Eloise spoke. “And all night come to think of it,”

“Well, she ought to hasten up!” Anthony muttered with a disgruntled moan.

“Do you think she’ll appear with a heavily powdered face?”

“Maybe it’s her dress that’s holding her up!”

“Surely it’s possible to slip a dress on without having to take so bloody long.” Anthony stated.

“You’re married to a woman. You’ve lived with five women before. You should know that it’s quite literally impossible to get ready as quickly as you men do!” Daphne replied.

Eloise nodded, applauding her sister, “Thank you! We suffer like this for the male species!”

“Species?” Benedict frowned.

“You heard correct,” Eloise snapped back with a bite, giving him a warning look but it was also a playful one.

“I think you suffer with these rituals for The Queen, sister.” Benedict corrected. Eloise glared at him. “I take it back,” He defended himself, raising his hands up in surrender.

Anthony grumbled and cursed under his breath.

“Hyacinth! You have less than five minutes to be out of here and into the carriage!” He warned as he banged the door. “Do make haste!”

“Anthony!” Both his mother and his wife scolded him at the forcefulness of his knock.

He shrugged, “What is it? We are running out of time!” He stated with exasperation –but Eloise could sense slight apprehension in his demeanor.

“We will leave soon enough, brother.” Daphne said, rocking the toddler in her arms as he laid his head on her shoulder, falling to sleep.

Hyacinth was the baby of the family and because she did not get to know their father Edmund, Anthony fulfilled the fatherly role for Hyacinth and Anthony always viewed her as his first daughter than he ever did as a sister so to finally see her grow up into a fine, young woman ready to make her debut into society, it was understandably hard for him to grapple with.

“I cannot believe this day has finally come!” Violet gasped, grapping hold of Kate’s hand as a form of support. “The last of my daughters is entering society. I do not know how I will cope with her potentially fleeing the nest soon.”

“You have done an incredible job thus far, raising such fine women.” Kate praised, smiling at Eloise.

“That’s very kind words, my dear.” Violet uttered with a heavy sigh as she rested her hand on her stomach. “But it has been quite the journey to get to this point,”

“Hopefully Hyacinth will give you a much easier run than Eloise did,” Gregory teased as he entered the scene.

“Gregory!”

Eloise looked over at her younger brother who grinned nonchalantly at her. Eloise shook her head but still mustered up a small chuckle.

As the rest of the family chattered about amongst themselves – with the children all rounded up together and entertaining one another – Anthony was left waiting at the door, staring at his watch.

“We need to leave.” He exhaled, nervously twitching and tapping his foot as his eyes never left the watch. He began tapping his feet as each second passed. “Hyacinth!” He screamed out again, causing everyone to flinch and young David to moan.

“My love, it’s okay.” Kate rested her hands on his shoulders and facing him to her, attempting to ease his nerves. “Look at me.” She moved her hands up to cup his face in between her hands.

Anthony pursed his lips together in thin line as he eventually locked eyes with his wife; his face visibly softened and his eyes glistened at her touch.

“I understand that this is incredibly difficult for you, to let her go, but you can overcome this hurdle. I know you can. She'll be the most excellent debutante, I am sure of it.” Kate reassured him.

“That isn’t what concerns me,” He said, holding onto her hand on his cheek and gently stroking it before sighing, “I just do not want to be late,” He dismissed it before spinning around to thump on the door again.

“Patience, my dear!” Kate giggled as she drew his hand back.

Anthony dropped his head but obliged to his more reasonable wife.

Daphne walked up to where Eloise and Benedict were chatting together.

“Eloise,” Daphne greeted. “You look lovely,”

“So do you, sister.” Eloise smiled. “You brought the whole clan with you for today?”

“For memories! We all decided it be best to bring along the children to get to experience their aunt making her mark on this momentous occasion.” She replied, adjusting David's suspender. "Although I don’t think the Queen would take too kind to rambunctious toddlers at her debut so not all of them will be at the presentation unfortunately. David and Emelia will be staying back here with the nanny which is why this little one here is being a little grumpy one this morning,” She cooed the last part as she kissed her head of her son on her shoulder.

Eloise smiled. One thing she would admit about Daphne, was what a natural born mother she was. She was meant to be a mother. Very maternal, gentle and loving.

“I think it makes more sense to take only the older children to the presentation today.” Daphne stated.

Benedict agreed, “Yes, I think it would be wise. Your children can get unruly,”

Eloise chuckled whilst Daphne rolled her eyes, “My children are well-mannered!” She spoke in defensive.

“Eh,” Benedict teased.

Daphne smacked his arm, gently.

“Where’s Sophie?” Eloise asked her older brother.

Benedict grinned like a bewitched, love-struck child who had just seen lanterns light up for the first time at the very mention of his wife, “She should be here shortly. She’s in the nursery currently feeding Violet who’s been keeping us up all night long.”

“It tends to be the case with newborns, dear brother. You should know that by now,” Daphne mocked.

Benedict rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you very much, Daph! But it was never quite as difficult with Charlie.”

“And you wonder why I remain childless?” Eloise scoffed.

“There’s so many more joys in fatherhood, though. I smile every time Charlie does something ridiculous to get mine or Sophie’s attention.”

“Simon does that too, more so when I’m the one that suffers,” Daphne chuckled along with her brother Benedict.

Eloise was quiet but kept a polite smile. These were the moments that she could not relate with her siblings. Usually whenever the topic of children came up, she’d continue reading her book or exit the room –not out of annoyance though, just out of respect for the various families. It did not make sense for the unmarried and childless spinster to be around when the parents are engaging in conversation only they can relate to.

Benedict noticed the topic was leading into a territory that made Eloise feel slightly like the odd one out and so he decided to quickly change the subject to spare his younger sister.

“Ever since we arrived, I find it peculiar that we haven’t been bombarded with tales from Colin and Penelope’s recent quests on their book tours across the country. Hmm…I wonder if they did much traveling, or perhaps it was an excuse to get some alone time.” He mocked.

Daphne shushed him, “Oh, hush!”

Eloise giggled.

“Apologies for being late! We are here!” Francesca’s voice reached the family’s ears as she entered the room with Sophie and Posy.

Benedict’s face lit up as he saw his wife and he extended his arms out to her which in turn made her smile as she took his hand as soon as she reached him.

“We didn’t miss anything, did we?” Sophie asked, giving Benedict a peck on the lips.

“No! You came just in time.” Benedict smiled, looking down at his wife with loving, heart eyes.

Eloise always found their relationship to be one of the most interesting to watch blossom of the family. They matched each other’s quirks and personalities greatly. They both enjoyed a good laugh poking fun at each other. And they had excellent banter but one thing they also had was mutual respect and admiration for one another. They were besotted with each other. You couldn’t keep them separated –much like Kate and Anthony.

“How’s our daughter and son?” He inquired.

“They’re well. I put them down for a nap. Violet is sound asleep. Charlie woke up when he realized you were gone so that was a mission to put him back to bed,” Sophie sighed.

Benedict smiled sympathetically, “We’ll be back soon enough,”

Benedict and Sophie would be staying at Bridgerton House for the remainder of the week as they do not yet have a London base outside of My Cottage, so Eloise will be very thrilled to have them around.

While Daphne and the children will be staying at their London residence of Hastings House while the Duke attends to some business at Clyvedon House.

Francesca and her son John would be staying at Lord Anderson and Violet’s home though.

“Okay! I’m going in!” Anthony announced, impatiently slipping his watch back into his pocket and immediately extending his hand out for the doorknob.

Just as he was about to barge in, the door flung open and the maids –with big wide, pleasant grins – all scurried out of the room, curtseying to the viscount as they exited.

The family stood at the door, eagerly awaiting for Hyacinth’s appearance.

Hyacinth emerged, looking like an absolutely resplendent vision in her demure, cream debutante outfit, dripping in several emerald jewels around her neck, ears and her wrists. Her skin resembled that of coconut milk, so smooth and so clear. Her green eyes shining ever so brightly as tendril curls cascaded down her face, while the rest of her hair sat up in a neat, elegant, beautiful curled up bun –that was accessorized by a mini diamond tiara and the traditional feather headpiece.

She quite literally looked like a princess.

Everyone in the room shared a gasp, which seemed to excite Hyacinth.

“Eep!” She squealed, energetically clapping her gloved hands together. “Do I look like a princess?”

“Hyacinth, you look magnificent!” Kate was the first to remark which earned a few hums in agreement.

“Truly, you are breathtaking, my dear.” Violet expressed with the proudest smile any mother would show.

“Agreed,” Benedict smiled. “You are a vision,”

Hyacinth bowed and giggled, “Thank you! Alright…Keep the compliments flying my way!” She composed herself with a giddy grin as she fanned herself with her feather fan.

Everyone laughed at her.

Anthony, however, was a completely, tormented, painful, pathetic wreck as he gazed upon the youngest member of his first family, his little sister, his surrogate daughter, his little Hyacinth. She was a well-matured young woman now.

His lips quivered slightly as tears began to brim in his eyes.

“Oh, honey! Are you getting misty eyed?” Kate muttered in concern as she rubbed his back, consoling him.

“No!” He quickly shot the suggestion down, but the sniff of the nose gave him away. “Shall we, uh, shall we get going? Yeah?!” He glanced back at his wife with a smile before taking her hand in his, turning to give Hyacinth one last look before walking off. “Come on, boys.” He commanded his sons to follow along.

Eloise shook her head and followed her family as they headed for the carriages downstairs to begin their journey to the palace.

Romney Hall

“Please be careful!” He sighed as he watched his children run around the living area whilst he read his newspaper.

Oliver and Amanda squealed with unadulterated laughter as they chased each other around the house. This was the first time the two genuinely laughed ever since Marina’s death. It probably had a lot to do with the amount of sugar they had this morning –Phillip would have to implement a new rule to not have ice-cream before a certain time.

The children are able to convince the kitchen cooks to give them certain indulgences whenever Nurse Millsby was not around to monitor them and keep them in line.

“If you’re going to play, please would you play outside?” He asked the children.

“Okay, father!” They responded in synchronized unison before heading for the door.

A brief pause later, Amanda, however, appeared and hopped onto the open space on the sofa Phillip was sitting on and playfully tapped him on his knee that was crossed over his leg.

“What is it, Amanda?” Phillip sighed.

“What are you reading?” She asked, curiously.

“What does it look like I’m reading?” He asked, not removing his eyes from the newspaper.

Amanda shrugged, “I don’t know.”

He sighed, glancing back at her with a cocked eyebrow as he turned to the next page.

She giggled at his expression, “You look funny, papa!” She stated.

Phillip looked out the door to see Oliver throwing sticks at the birds and chasing after the rabbits that roamed the fields.

“Ought you to be chasing after the animals with your brother, young one?” Phillip asked his daughter.

“I want to spend time with you!” Amanda told him.

“I do not think I am good company to be around,” He told her.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why? I like spending time with you!”

“Hmm…Only when you want something,” He stated. “So, what exactly do you want, child?” He said, looking at her, displaying a humor-inducing countenance.

Amanda giggled uncontrollably as she playfully shoved his arm, “Stop it, father! You look strange when you do that!”

He scoffed, but waited for her to inform him of what she really wanted to ask of him.

“Oliver and I would like a dog!” She finally spoke.

“A dog?”

She nodded her head enthusiastically, as if she had full clarity about it, as if she had been thinking about it for long and was determined to get exactly what she wanted.

And that’s the problem…

He could never deny Amanda of anything she requested. He found it incredibly difficult to say no to her –which is a quandary and drawback for him because whatever she asked for usually led to her and her brother doing something mischievous in the end.

But, he supposed getting a dog wouldn’t be so bad. The children have been rather despondent lately despite their antics. Amanda, especially, took Marina’s death the hardest. Of course, both children were deeply wounded by it but Oliver was able to keep his mind off of it with boyish pursuits, but Amanda was a rather emotional child.

Not only was she extraordinarily quiet and shy (to the point of rarely speaking to anyone but Phillip or Oliver at times), she was also profoundly sensitive. She loved her mother deeply. Phillip would never forget the emotional breakdown she exhibited after he told the children the news.

Her screams and sobs still replayed vividly in his dreams.

He wondered, then, if a pet would keep them occupied and entertained, whilst simultaneously lifting their spirits up. They had their own ponies and horses in the family stable but you couldn’t exactly play with horses inside the house or in the yard.

Hmm…

“I will think about it,” He told her. She squealed in ecstatic jubilation. “I cannot guarantee you will get one though. It would only depend on how good you and your brother are in the coming days, weeks and months.”

She pouted, “Okay! We will be on our best behavior.”

He sighed, nodding his head, “You may go,” He stated.

She giggled as she went to give him a hug but he swiveled up and cringed, “Ah! Ah! No hugs!” He said.

She pouted her bottom lip before sadly hopping off the sofa and moving swiftly out of the house to play with her brother.

Phillip’s eyes followed her tail as she left and he exhaled a breath.

Why did he do that?

He did not mean to hurt her feelings.

Phillip was just not the most affectionate person. He did not enjoy physical touch. He’s gotten a lot better at being more affectionate for the children’s sake—especially now given the circumstances— but it’s an innate, ingrained habit of his to recoil whenever someone touched him.

He would need to work on it.

Perhaps, a dog is precisely what the children need.

“Sir Phillip,” Gunning announced as he entered the room. Phillip looked up. “Lord Debling has arrived,” He announced.

“Bring him in,” He sighed, standing up and folding his newspaper.

Lord Debling entered the room soon thereafter with a friendly disposition, a welcome one to Phillip amidst a sea of saddened and sympathetic looks he’s received from people.

“Sir Phillip, my dear friend!” He said with a bow of the head before setting his briefcase down and extending his arms out. “Bring it in,” He expressed as he went to go give him a manly and brotherly embrace; both men patting each other on the back.

“It’s pleasant to see you again, my brother.” Phillip stated, as they departed.

Lord Debling exhaled a shaky breath as he gripped Phillip’s shoulder, “Apologies, I would have arrived sooner when I heard the news about Lady Crane. My comfort for your loss and my deepest, sincerest condolences.”

Phillip smiled weakly, “I appreciate it,” He expressed. “Would you like us to sit outside?”

“Yes, please!” Lord Debling hoisted up his briefcase and the two meandered their way out the door and took their places on the terrace chairs, circled around a round outdoor table.

“As I said earlier, I would have come a lot sooner, especially for the funeral but my expedition in the Northwest Passage has kept me ship-bound for a majority of my return,” Alfred stated as he set his briefcase on the ground and pulled up a chair.

“How long was your journey?”

“199 days,” Alfred confirmed, sinking in his chair. “Which seems like a long time but I was anticipating the journey back to be a full three hundred days so that is quite a relief,”

Phillip nodded with a smile. “When you told me you were attempting an expedition in the Arctic –with freezing cold, subzero temperatures, I was sure you would not return alive.”

“I’m barely alive,” He jested. Phillip scoffed weakly. “I suffered several injuries on my feet, I believe I experienced frostbite for the first time and I, very nearly lost several toes.”

“Pardon me?” Phillip demanded, his eyes widened in shock.

Alfred nodded his head, “I wish I was joking, my friend.” He chuckled.

“Did you truly just travel there to see the penguins?” 

Lord Debling chuckled, "No. No. Although, they were quite a sight to behold. Emperor Penguins they are called. Fascinating creatures!" 

“How was the Arctic all-in-all? Sounds like quite an exhilarating and eventful trip.” Phillip asked, inquisitively.

 “Treacherous!” He stated. “I am lucky to be alive by the skin of my teeth. Unfortunately, I lost a few comrades along the way, somewhere between the North Pacific, one of our other ships hit an iceberg.” He spoke. “Part of the reason why the journey was extended by a year was to recuperate from all that we endured. We acquired some respite in the Americas, particularly in Upper Canada.”

Phillip blinked.

He has seen the Americas?

Phillip couldn’t help but feel slightly miffed and envious of him in that moment.

“T-That’s…Intriguing,” He stumbled over his words as he coughed, clearing his throat. “Very intriguing indeed,”

Alfred smiled at him, “I understand it’s been your wish to travel there for a while. I am quite sure you will one day.”

Phillip very much doubted that. With all the responsibilities he had, he couldn't even entertain the thought of pursing his dreams anymore. 

Subsequently, one of the children roared in intense laughter and Phillip darted his head to the big open field to see Amanda and Oliver rolling down the small hills.

“Well, I am not in the position to do that right now but hopefully, once the children are older.” He stated.

“You ought to take a wife soon,” Lord Debling said.

This was the umpteenth time he has heard those very words uttered to him by a well-intentioned friend so Phillip did not hold it against him.

“I need some time,” Phillip simply answered, although he was in no rush to look for a wife.

His main priority right now was getting the children to come to grips with the loss of their mother and find some way to integrate them into a habit of good behavior.

“Well, I am in the hunt for one.” Alfred confirmed.

“Is that so?” Phillip chuckled. “How did that serve you the last time?”

“I will admit, I had struggles before my trip but my standards—”

“Do you not believe that was what led to your struggles in the first place? Your impossibly high standards?”

“They’re not impossible if they are practical,”

Phillip nodded. He did make a point there.

If it was a practical match, it would make life so much easier. He would know because he did not find a practical match in his marriage of seven years and his life was all the more miserable for it.

“All I want is a kind wife with her own passions to keep her occupied as she tends to the estate. Someone who is able to juggle all the inner workings of domestic life as the lady of the house and mother of the children. I ought to produce an heir soon as I do not have the luxury of having a male sibling to divert back to,” He stated, but soon regretting it as he remembered Phillip’s situation. “Forgive me,”

Phillip waved him off, “Do not apologize. It’s fine. You are right. It is a weighty responsibility that nobody should bear.”

Debling nodded, “I brought you something,” He began, bending down to reach for his briefcase and pulling out a bottle. “Care for a glass of whiskey?” He offered,

Phillip was not that much of a drinker. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that his father was a serial drunkard of the highest order, and he did everything in his powers to avoid following in his footsteps of self-destruction. However, he did enjoy a glass of wine or whiskey from time to time.

But, he was not a day drinker.

He did wonder though…

Perhaps a glass would help take the edge off and help rid the chip off his shoulder; easing the tension, worry and stress that keep piling up as each day passes.

Phillip gestured for one of the servants, “Two glasses, please!” He called to him.

“This is just a little thing I bought in the Canadas. It’s an 18^th century, 1795 distilled rye whiskey all the way from Pennsylvania!” Alfred said as soon as the glasses were brought. “Mind you, it produces a bit of a kick.” He said, pouring himself and Phillip a glass. “You don’t perhaps have some lemons?”

Phillip got up and went to snatch a lemon from the lemon tree pot plant and handed it to the Lord. The Lord then drew out a knife and began slicing the lemon into pieces before squeezing a sprinkle of the juices into the whiskey.

“Enjoy,” He pronounced, pushing the glass towards Phillip who then took it and drew a sip.

Phillip winced and shivered at the strong taste, “You are right. It certainly has a kick.”

“But so good, is it not?”

Phillip nodded. “Nevertheless, what brings you back in Gloucestershire? I don’t suppose you plan to stay here long?”

Lord Debling owned a sizable estate up in Yorkshire. In addition, he maintained a Mayfair residence whenever he’s in London that he and his family stays at.

“My youngest sister is making her debut today,” He announced.

“Oh?”

“Yes, it seems I’ll be in the city for quite a while.” He spoke, taking a sip of whiskey. “How are the children coping?”

“They experience bouts of good days and bad days,” Phillip explained.

Lord Debling nodded, “They have certainly grown quite a bit since I last saw them,” He remarked as he watched the children chase after one another.

“And they have both grown to be rather unruly ever since,” Phillip sighed, taking another sip of his drink.

The children considered Alfred Debling as the uncle they never got to meet in George. Phillip would also admit that although both George and Alfred were vastly different individuals with traits that were poles apart, there were certain elements in him that reminded him of his older brother.

Debling had been away on his travels for a little over five years. However, he did occasionally make a few return trips back in London to handle his estate after the death of his father so he got to visit the Crane family.

“Oliver! Amanda!” Phillip called out for them, instantly summoning them to halt in their playtime and craning their attention to him. “Do come over, please!” He gestured to them, wriggling his fingers in the air.

The twins ran up the hill to meet him, “Yes, father?” They both spoke in synchronization as they stood beside each other.

“Do you remember Lord Debling?” Phillip said.

The twins turned their focus onto the guest. 

“A little…” Oliver replied.

The children seemed to not recognize him as he was unshaven and they only remember him with a beard. Perhaps, they were also quite young when he was a frequent presence in their lives.

“Well, would you greet him?” Phillip urged.

“Hello!” Oliver expressed nonchalantly.

Phillip gave him a stern look. “Oliver! That is an improper way to greet a guest.” He warned.

Oliver rolled his eyes, “Father, I am hungry! When is it time to break our fast?”

“Oliver!” Phillip spoke, firmly –slightly peeved at the rude display from his son.

Oliver grumbled and tilted his head to look at Debling before bowing his head courteously, “Good day, my lord.” He said.

Lord Debling smiled, “Greetings, young man. My, you’re aging up like a weed.” He remarked.

Then he shifted over to Amanda who sheepishly hid away from his gaze, resorting to staring at the ground as she twirled around and traced her tiny foot on the ground. “Morning, young Miss Amanda,”

Her cheeks flushed, turning a deep shade of crimson, almost as red as a ripe tomato, as she reluctantly met his eyes. She gave him a respectful bow of the head and deep curtsy, although she almost got off balance. Amanda was rather a clumsy child.

“Good day, my lord,” She muttered in a tone so faint, it was a wonder either of them could hear.

“It’s a delight to see you, little one.”

She didn’t smile back, but instead just hung her head down, averting his gaze and began to fidget with the hem of her pastel, rosy-pink dress.

“I love your dress,” Debling remarked. “My younger sisters had dresses just like the one you are wearing when they were younger.” He complimented.

The shy girl still did not budge, but rather chose to remain silent and got even more uncomfortable as the warmness of her cheeks grew hotter as embarrassment crept up on her.

“Father, may we eat now?” Oliver begged.

Phillip sighed, “Gunning!” He called over the butler who was standing idly by on the sidelines, waiting to be called upon.

“Yes. Sir?” Gunning, the family’s personal butler approached the table.

“Would you check in the kitchen to see how far Mabel and the cooks are with the preparation?” Phillip probed.

“We want biscuits!” Oliver exclaimed abruptly.

Phillip sighed, “And could you possibly ask her if she could provide a plate of biscuits for the children in the meantime?”

“And scones!” Oliver added.

Phillip felt a heat rising to his face, a telltale sign of his embarrassment at the uncouth nature of his household; he wondered if people questioned his parenting style to have such less than genteel children.

Phillip turned to Debling, “Would you like to stay for breakfast with us?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a cup of tea, although, I have to take my leave soon after. But thank you for the kind offer.” He answered.

Phillip nodded his head, darting his head back at Gunning, “That will be all, thank you.”

“Very well, sir.” Gunning bowed his head and then turned to the children. “Would you two care to follow me to the kitchen?” He asked, playfully.

Both of the children’s faces lit up as they nodded eagerly and followed the butler’s tail leading off into the kitchen.

“Thank you for the visit,” Phillip stated, with a sulky tone. “I wish you arrived at a different time when the atmosphere wasn’t so…tense.” He spoke.

He wished he was a little more forthright and welcoming to his guest, but he did not have it in him to wear a mask. Unlike Marina, Phillip wore his heart on his sleeve. He was never good at pretence.

“Nonsense! I completely understand. It is a difficult period, I imagine,” Debling spoke.

Phillip sighed.

Certainly, that proved to be an understatement of the century.

Buckingham House

Eloise stood on the sideline of the presentation aisle with the rest of her family as each debutante made their grand entrance in front of The Queen.

“Miss Bernadette Jones, presented by her mother The Rt. Honorable Lady Tremaine Jones!” the royal crier announced.

The debutante made her entrance with her mother, Lady Tremaine Jones, demonstrating their first bow and curtsy to Her Majesty.

Her Majesty, the Queen did not seem as impressed by her performance and ushered for the next debutante.

“Miss Ethel Chesterton, presented by her mother the Rt. Honorable, Baroness Octavia Chesterton.” The town crier spoke.

The doors opened and revealed a rather stunning young lady with rich, honey-chocolate brown skin, standing alongside her equally beautiful mother. The two entered the room in a graceful gait, causing much flutters and whispers among the guests.

“Goodness gracious me…What a vision she is,” Gregory was at a loss for words, his jaw was unlocked and practically dangling to the floor.

“Close your mouth, dunderhead!” Eloise nudged her brother with her elbow.

He immediately shut his mouth, yet kept his focus completely fixated on the young lady as she strolled leisurely and elegantly along the aisle.

“Does this reawaken fond memories of your debut season, El?” Sophie asked her.

Eloise scoffed, “Certainly not,” she spoke, “that would require me to have fond memories of my debut.”

“Eloise was a poor, wretched wreck. Mother had to forcibly coerce her to break a smile on the day,” Benedict stated.

“Ah! I remember it like it was yesterday.” Anthony chuckled as he stood beside him, his one hand on his oldest son’s shoulder and his other arm, occupied by his wife’s hands. “I am surprised you did not suffer a misfortunate bout of retching sickness,” He added, glancing back at her.

“Trust me, I was close,” Eloise jested.

The brothers all sniggered.

“I think you made a lovely debutante, sister.” Daphne whispered, standing on her side.

Eloise smiled politely.

Miss Chesterton gave an elegant bow to the Queen—which seemed to please her, but not enough to announce her newest diamond of the season on the spot.

“Do you think Hyacinth would be crushed if she didn’t win the favor of The Queen?” Colin asked.

“Impossible! I have no doubt in my mind that she’ll make the most excellent diamond,” Kate spoke.

Anthony turned to his wife to grin at her lovingly.

“Nevertheless, if she does decide not to make her the diamond, I will have to suffer the endless tears and sobs for the rest of the season under the same house as her,” Eloise said. “So, I think I should hope she is the diamond, if not for her sake, then for mine.” She joked.

Sophie giggled, “Eloise,”

Eloise shrugged her shoulders, “What? It’s true.”

“Miss Annabeth Debling, presented by her mother the Rt. Honorable, Dowager Countess, Lady Frances Debling.” The announcer enunciated.

The doors flung open to reveal a fine-looking young lady with strawberry blonde trusses, exhibiting the pleasantest, open disposition and flashing the kindest yet demure smile as she sauntered her way down the aisle.

“U-Unbelievable…” Gregory stumbled on his words as she strolled along; his eyes were hypnotically mesmerized by her.

Anthony, Benedict and Colin all shared a knowingly look between them, trying hard to stifle their chuckles at their overtly dumbstruck and female-spellbound younger brother.

Eloise couldn’t help but roll her eyes and shake her head at the exchange. It was typical of them to make fun of each other which Eloise rather enjoyed to do as well. Even with most of her brothers well into their adult ages—with their wives and children in tow—they all still behaved like teenage boys sometimes.  

As the young lady made her debut, Eloise caught the glance of one Lord Debling standing on the opposite side of the aisle, staring right at her with a look of intrigue.

Eloise wrung her hands together, glancing down at them, attempting to escape his intense gaze as she got slightly uncomfortable.

“Miss Hyacinth Bridgerton, presented by her mother, the Rt. Honorable, Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, Lady Violet Anderson!” The announcer articulated just as the doors opened wide.

Eloise craned her neck to get a clearer view of Hyacinth as soon as her name was uttered.

Hyacinth stood tall, straightening her frame in an upright position, and keeping her fingers firmly interlocked in an elegant posture. She looked the picture of class, poise and sophistication. Initially, one could notice her slight apprehension, but as soon as she spotted her family standing supportively in the sidelines, her unnerved exterior vanished and her confidence shone through all over her face.

She glanced back at her mother who proudly gave her an encouraging nod, which allowed Hyacinth to begin her confident, graceful, composed stride along the aisle.

The Bridgerton family all beamed at watching the last of the sisters make their debut; pride and love washing over each and every one of their faces.

Brimsley muttered a quiet word to the Queen, which seemed to bring a smile on her face as she sat up with interest at Hyacinth’s presentation.

When Hyacinth reached the Queen’s throne, she took the deepest curtsy and bow, signaling a mark of immense respect for the monarch and consort.

“Your Majesty,” Hyacinth spoke.

The Queen smiled and gave a slight nod of acceptance, “Beautifully done,” She remarked.

Hyacinth beamed, barely containing her excitement as she stood up. The Queen flaunted a widened grin and dismissed her with a kind nod yet again. Bowing her head, Hyacinth and her mother walked ahead.

“Well, that definitely went about as well as expected.” Anthony said.

“You do know what this means, brother? You’ll have to anticipate an endless, revolving door of male suitors swarming our walls throughout the season,” Eloise whispered to him.

His face dropped and metamorphosed into pure agony, triggering an amused laugh from the women.

Eloise’s laugh subsided as realization hit her.

Her younger sister would most likely find a husband in her first season out and she would be the only unmarried sister left. It’s a thought that she has reconciled with and had embraced for years, but with the reality coming closer and closer ahead, Eloise couldn’t help but feel…

At odds with herself?

Was she doomed to be lonely forever even if this was the life she wanted?

Bridgerton House

“You made an excellent debutante, Hyacinth!” Daphne remarked as she gave her youngest sister a hug upon the carriage ride back to the main Bridgerton house.

“I would agree! Congratulations!” Kate said, leaning in for a hug after Daphne. “You made all of us proud.”

“I did not think you had it in you, sister.” Gregory sighed as he appeared in front of her.

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, “Ha ha,”

Gregory chuckled but quickly shifted to a more serious tone, “You look extraordinary, little sister. I am happy for you,”

“Thank you, Gregory!” Hyacinth said, giving him a tight embrace.

“Now would you please put in a good word for me with the other debutantes, please?” He cheekily spoke.

“All right, brother! Come on!” Colin gripped onto his shoulders and pulled him away to the brother’s room so that they could talk amongst themselves with the older brothers.

"Now you can continue to win the Queen over at tomorrow night's Lady Danbury Spring Ball!" Sophie stated. 

Hyacinth squealed with excitement. "I cannot wait!"

The house was bustling with noise; the children dashing and scampering about the corridors and up the stairs, whilst the wives and some of the sisters conversed with each other.

“Eloise!” Kate called out to her as she ferreted and skimmed through the letters that arrived late morning.

Eloise walked up to the Viscountess, “Yes?”

“It seems you have a letter,” Her sister-in-law informed, handing her the letter with an encrusted red wax pressed onto the back of it.

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows as she flipped the letter around. It was thick and textured, as if it was made of some authentic, card or clay and it was scented with the most aromatic, intoxicatingly fresh smell that brought to mind the fields of Aubrey Hall in the spring time.

The front of the folded envelope had a tiny, yet impressive drawing of a peony flower –one of Eloise’s favorites– on the top corner.

She grabbed a letter opener and slid the sharp object underneath the wax before unfurling it; revealing the piece of paper had a pressed peony with lavender thistles attached to it. Eloise couldn’t help but smile at the level of quality and intention put into this one letter.

She then began reading:

March 1821

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for your kind words of encouragement and your hearty condolences. It was thoughtful of you to take the time to write to a gentleman you have never met. It was also thoughtful of you to not make the said gentleman feel like a fool for unintentionally sending the wrong letter to the wrong house.

It is much appreciated, truly. I offer you this pressed flower as a token of my appreciation. It is a lovely aromatic pink-red peony (paeonia spp) with lavender thistles that perfumes the fields here in Gloucestershire and indeed they seem to have arrived just in time for the blooming time of year, spring! Hopefully this brightens up your day.

Sincerely,

Phillip Crane

Eloise giggled at the humorous bits of the letter, and couldn’t help but let her cheeks burn at the final parting words. She was surprised that Sir Phillip wrote back to her. She half-expected him to forget about the letter she sent him and she wouldn’t blame him for not bothering to write back.

At the end of the day, they did not know each other. 

However, somehow finding out that he took the time and effort to write back to her, made her happy in a strange way. Eloise thought it was very kind of him, especially during a time of immeasurable grief. It was certainly a mark of his character to go through all the trouble.

But she did find it interesting that flowers seemed to be a fixture in his life because even when he sent the misplaced first letter, there was flower detailing on it as well. 

She wondered if flowers were just something that he found pretty for letters or it was part of his vocation. Eloise enjoyed hearing from people who had worth while careers and passions in their lives. 

Eloise gnawed her bottom lip as she tapped the letter onto her palm.

Intrigued by his reply, especially for his use of Latin, Eloise was immediately compelled to write back, so she penned a letter:

Dear Sir Phillip, 

Thank you so very much for the pressed flower you creatively attached to the letter. 

It was such a lovely surprise when it floated out the envelope. I would never have expected much.

Also thank you for kindly writing back to me. You did not have to go through the trouble, truly. 

In regards to the first letter, there is no need to fret over the confusion. Mistakes happen all the time. I have made my fair share, I assure you.

I could not help but notice you used the scientific name for peonies which are my favorites by the way. Are you a botanist?

Yours truly,

Eloise Bridgerton

Chapter Text

Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long lonely time

Time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?

I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me

Lonely rivers flow to the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh, wait for me, wait for me
I'll be coming home, wait for me

Unchained Melody - Roy Orbison (orchestral violin instrumental)

CHAPTER 4

March 24^th, 1821

“Hyacinth, would you please contain yourself.” Lady Violet told her youngest daughter who was pacing back and forth across the room, muttering words to herself.

“Apologies, mama. But I simply cannot help it.” Hyacinth expressed with a jubilant, excitable grin. “My stomach is in a knot! Ah! When is the first caller arriving?”

Lady Violet was too preoccupied with cooing over her granddaughter and her namesake, Violet, to respond to her daughter.

Eloise answered, “It’s barely even ten minutes before calling hour begins, sister.” She scoffed.

Hyacinth sighed, “Fine!” She exclaimed as she collapsed onto sofa. “Oh, I sure do hope I attract worthy suitors. Daphne had all the men flocking to her whim in her first season, Eloise scared off any man before they even walked through the doors in hers, Francesca made an instant love match in her first season. Surely I can’t fair worse?”

“You are a Bridgerton after all,” Kate spoke as she entered the room with Mrs. Wilson. “I do not doubt you will attract the very best Mayfair has to offer,”

Hyacinth grinned brightly at the words of affirmation, “I hope my future husband is a tall, mysterious stranger. Preferably a Duke or an Earl.” She mused with a soft giggle as she nibbled on some macaroons.

Eloise shook her head at her young, fanciful sister and resumed her reading of a new novel she recently began reading. It was a semi-novel, semi-journal by female author Mariana Starke titled, Travels on the Continent: Written for the Use and Particular Information for Travelers.

Meanwhile, athwart the other side of the room, one young Edmund Bridgerton II was seated at the piano, attempting to play a fine tune from Mozart’s Requiem, whilst his younger brother Miles and his younger cousin Charlie, played with their metallic trains and several wooden, toy soldiers.

Edmund was musically gifted –much like his aunt Francesca. He enjoyed performing multiple renditions of classics on the piano and even other instruments such as the piccolo flute (a gift uncle Colin brought back for him from Italy), a clarinet, the recorder and the sarangi (a traditional Indian instrument his mother used to enjoy playing in her home country).

“Very good, Edmund!” Kate applauded him encouragingly, as soon as he finished a complete verse, and bent down to plant a small kiss on his head.

Edmund giggled, looking up at his mother with his big, wide eyes –very much akin to her own. Thereafter, Edmund leaped off his piano stool and went over to play with his brother. 

“Ma’am, where would you like the refreshments to be stationed?” Mrs. Wilson asked the Viscountess Bridgerton, pulling her attention away from her eldest son.

Kate spun around and assessed the room, “Uh…Right over there! Near the fresh, bouquet of hyacinth flowers. We want the suitors to immediately think of the main attraction as they enter,” Kate stated, winking and nodding at Hyacinth who giggled back in return, “Thank you, Mrs. Wilson!” Kate added.

The Bridgerton’s longstanding housekeeper nodded her head before ushering her two maidens to place the trays of various pastry canapés and appetizers on the two round tables.

“Morning, family!” Benedict boomed, waltzing into the room with a huge grin plastered on his face.

A chorus of greetings from the members in the family followed.

“Papa!” A tiny, soft voice spoke in a blaring pitch before Charles leaped off the ground and sprinted as fast as his small, chubby toddler legs could carry him over to his father.

Benedict grinned as he crouched down and opened his arms wide, just as the child lunged into him and their bodies collided –Benedict laughing, lifting him swiftly off the floor.

“There is my boy!” Benedict expressed, showering the tot with little kisses all over his cheek and forehead. “Are you enjoying playtime with Miles?”

 “Mhmm,” Charlie nodded enthusiastically as he draped his diminutive arms around neck. “I missed you!”

“Oh, my boy. Papa missed you too,” Benedict stated, holding him upright above his him and sauntering over to the seating area in the drawing room.

“What are you reading?” Benedict grilled Eloise, as he snatched the bowl of macaroons from Hyacinth’s lap and shoving one in his mouth and giving another to his son.

“A ground-breaking guidebook on the travels of an English woman who trekked the entire continent all on her lonesome.” She spoke.

“Right! Why am I not surprised?” He chuckled. “Well, it certainly sounds a lot more like your preferred literary reads. The last book you read…what was it? The Tale of Sleepy Hollow?”

“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” Eloise corrected. “Which, I have you know, was a pleasant read.”

“Is it not a horror novel?” Hyacinth asked.

“It is,” Eloise responded. “However, the main moral of the story is essentially... not to let superstitions guide our actions and overwhelm ones reason.”

“Mmm…” Benedict nodded. “I will give it a read one day.”

Eloise smiled and nodded her head, “I’ll lend you the book before you leave for My Cottage,”

Benedict smiled. “I would have never have guessed you’d be interested in a book on travels, sister? Did Colin’s barrage of his many stories rub off on you?”

“I have always been fascinated by travel, brother. I just detest hearing about Colin's travels constantly,” She said.

“Perhaps due to a hint of envy?” Hyacinth teased.

Benedict sniggered, “She said it, not me.”

Eloise nudged her sister’s arm before resuming to reading her book.

“Benedict, do you have any idea where my husband is? The suitors are due to arrive any moment.” Kate spoke.

“Oh, I would think Hyacinth would fare much better without Anthony present, do you not think so, sister?” Benedict teased, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Kate sighed, “I suppose you are right, however, knowing my husband…He would be incredibly vexed if he did not have the opportunity to inspect every single man that walks through those doors.”

Hyacinth grumbled, “Is Anthony going to ruin this for me?” She moaned, pouting her bottom lip.

“Not if I have anything to say for it, my dear.” Violet spoke.

Kate anticipated more elaboration on her husband’s whereabouts from Benedict who finally succumbed, “Anthony is in the study discussing business affairs with Marcus,” Benedict stated.

Lady Violet and Lady Kate shared a disgruntled look, “Business on calling hour?” Kate questioned.

“I ought to speak to my husband. This is ridiculous!” Violet grunted as she repositioned the infant in her arms and laid her head against her shoulder, patting her to back soothingly. “Could they have not waited after an hour, or two?”

“Morning, family.” Anthony greeted as he entered the room, as if he was on cue.

“Speak of the devil,” Benedict chuckled as he tickled his son’s stomach, igniting a melodic laughter.

“Anthony, would you care to explain why you thought it be the appropriate time to be conducting business affairs as we are due to welcome new suitors into your home for your sister?” Violet reprimanded her eldest –which was odd considering he was well into his adult years, in his later thirties nearing forty, with a family of his own.

Anthony looked at his mother with surprise, “Who told you that?”

“Benedict,” Violet gestured to her other son.

Benedict’s eyes bulged as he glared at his mother for exposing him, then he turned his attention over to his older brother, “I said nothing of the sort!”

Anthony sighed as he walked up to his wife to give her a kiss on the cheek, but she swerved her head back and gave him a similar expression to the one his mother was currently holding.

Anthony knew he needed to explain himself, “All right. Fine! If you must know…Marcus and I were discussing the possibility of purchasing a new home for the family.”

“A new home?” Hyacinth gasped, her interest clearly piqued.

“Are we leaving Bridgerton house?” Hyacinth asked further.

"No." 

“Is Aubrey Hall not good enough for you anymore, brother?” Eloise questioned.

“Aubrey Hall is wonderful, and we still intend to keep it as our main country family home but with our family greatly expanding and moving to various parts of the country, Marcus suggested it would be wise to consider finding a bigger plot of land further into the country where we would all be able to meet and enjoy each other’s company, with as much space as possible for all parties to be comfortable.”

“Why did you not speak to me about this?” Kate asked, softly.

Anthony’s eyes softened as he laid his hand on her arm and began stroking it soothingly, “We just began speaking about it briefly in the study, my dear. You would always be the first to hear it. I would’ve told you first if my mother did not pry it out of me.” He glanced over to his mother who rolled her eyes at him whilst fussing over the infant in her arms.

“Tell them about Gregory!” Benedict chuckled with a mouthful.

Eloise flashed a look of disgust.

“What should we know about Gregory?” Violet interrogated.

Anthony let out a frustrated grunt as he plunged himself into one of the chairs, his facial muscles became rigid and his knuckles whitened as he went to reach for the bowl of macaroons and gripping the bowl tightly.

“Your son, Gregory, has been home from Oxford for a little over a week now and neglected to inform any of the family about the antics he got himself in with his companions that resulted in one of the dormitories catching on fire!”

Violet’s eyes widened, “I beg your finest pardon?” She scoffed, laughing at the absurdity of what she just heard. “Gregory did what?”

“You heard correct,” Anthony stated. “Now I have to gather funds to compensate for the damages.”

Subsequently, Gregory made an appearance as he waltzed into the room with Lord Anderson following closely behind him, as they shared good-humored words with each other.

His smile dropped as soon as he noticed the displeased expression on his mother’s face, as if he was caught red handed.

“Gregory Bridgerton!” Violet exclaimed, handing baby Violet over to the nearest daughter to her –which so happened to be Eloise – and then marched over to give her youngest a piece of her mind.

Eloise sat on the sofa, cradling the infant in her arms, with a vacant facial contortion.

Hyacinth giggled, “Eloise? It is just a baby, not a weapon.”

“Heh? Are you quite certain of that, sister? This creature could explode at any given moment!” Eloise chuckled nervously as she glanced down at the sleeping baby, tapping her and swaying her ever so gently and softly, trying not to wake her up.

“Eloise, you’ve held several infants in the family over the years. How are you not comfortable around them?” Anthony remarked, with amusement.

“I am comfortable around certain younglings, brother! Ones that will not sob ferociously at the sound of a feather dropping.” Eloise explained.

Benedict smiled as he watched his daughter sleeping comfortably in her terrified aunt’s arms, “Violet seems undoubtedly contented in your arms, I see.”

Eloise hummed in pure dread as she glanced down then up at her brother, “Where is your wife? Just out of curiosity?”

Benedict laughed, “She is in the kitchen, baking shortbread biscuits and scones.” He answered.

Eloise nodded, just as Violet stirred in her arms and let out a whimper of slight discomfort and agitation as she shifted in her arms, stretching out her arms through the blanket before falling back into silence.

Eloise exhaled a sigh of relief.

That was a close call.

Lord Anderson decided to leave his wife and stepson in their heated discussion to congregate with the rest of the family in the lounging area.

“Your mother certainly knows how to speak her mind when she is nettled,” Marcus Anderson jested.

The children gurgled with synchronized laughter.

“One of the companions young Gregory got himself into trouble with was none other than my nephew,” Marcus sighed.

“Ah! The St. Clair boy?” Anthony remarked as his eyes lingered on his wife fulfilling her Viscountess duties, ushering the servants around as they brought in more food and tables as the family anticipated more callers than usual.

“Gareth St. Clair?” Hyacinth questioned.

“Yes. Do you know him?” Marcus asked.

Hyacinth shrugged her shoulders, “Perhaps. I heard my brother mention him before. He told me the two met at Eton.”

“Yes, well, I imagine he will unquestionably receive a stern admonishment from Lady Danbury.” Anthony stated.

“Knowing my sister, I do not doubt it.” Marcus guffawed.

Anthony nodded, then averted his eyes back onto Eloise who was rocking her body back and forth; swaying the sleeping child in her arms.

“You are uncharacteristically quiet,” Anthony pointed out.

“I have become disenfranchised with the conversation,” Eloise responded in a whisper. “I do not want to utter a word or make any sudden movement or else this child will screech until my ears bleed,” She muttered.

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Hand her over to me,” He gestured, seizing the opportunity to save her from her own hands.

Eloise gently maneuvered her frame off the sofa and slowly approached Anthony’s side to gently nest the infant into his warm, experienced arms.

Anthony instantly flipped into a fatherly role, almost like it came second nature to him, as he doted on his youngest niece.

Sophie then came into the room, “Good morning!” She acknowledged with a friendly smile, bringing in a large plate of shortbread and scones.

“Oh, Sophie! You are a glorious saint for willingly baking for us today. You did not have to go through the trouble,” Kate said to her sister-in-law.

“Nonsense! I thoroughly enjoy baking. You can ask Benedict, I bake for the family every single morning.” Sophie glanced back at her husband.

“It’s true!” Benedict grinned proudly, planting a soft kiss on his son’s head whilst he fiddled with the handkerchief in his waistcoat pocket.

“Well, it is much appreciated.” Kate grinned, sharing a brief hug with Sophie before they both resumed with preparing the last minute alterations to the menu.

Precipitously, Posy entered the room with the final tray of lemonade and handed it over to her stepsister.

Hyacinth squealed so loudly when she saw her, Eloise flinched and very nearly covered her ears at the frequency of the sound.

“Posy!”

Posy laughed as she skidded over to her young friend and they shared a warm embrace. The two had been thick as thieves for years –Posy being a mere three years older than her made it undemanding for them to become fast friends.

“Are you ready?” Posy posed.

Hyacinth nodded, “Certainly ready as I’ll ever be.” She answered truthfully, “W-what if no man decides to call?”

Footman John entered the room suddenly and announced, “The first caller has arrived!”

“Yes! Let him in!” Violet uttered.

A moment later, a dashing, distinguished young man –no older than twenty-three Eloise supposed – entered the room with a charming disposition.

“Lord Everton for Miss Hyacinth, my Lord.” Footman John nodded to Anthony.

Anthony stood up, handing the baby over to her mother, Sophie and sauntering leisurely up to welcome —and potentially grill—the new arrival.

“Mr. Bridgerton.” The young man bowed his head and extended his hand for a shake.

Anthony cleared his throat, “That is Lord Bridgerton, to you, young man.”

Lord Everton chuckled nervously.

Eloise rolled her eyes and got up from her seat, “Not that this hasn’t been a delight but I ought to be taking my leave,” She announced.

“Where are you off to, sister? You are missing all the fun when it just begun?” Benedict chuckled.

“A promenade with Penelope and then we are off to the modiste,” She replied. “Do not wait up for me for lunch!”

Grovenor Square

Promenade

The two were currently debating the state of the world and how Eloise intends to enforce or rather, envision how she would enforce, the necessary needed to improve society at large.

“Imagine with me, if for one moment, we live in a world where women were afforded the same education as men, given the same work and business opportunities, given the same earnings or inheritance, allowed to uphold the same laws and jurisdictions in court…Can you just fathom how harmonious a world like that would be?” Eloise spoke. “I envision a world where women do not have to conform to the male primogeniture standard of life, but rather…lead it coactively.”

“Do you truly want to do what men do, Eloise?” Penelope spoke.

“I do not wish to spend the rest of my days living like a man, Pen. That is not what I want— No– What I want is the choice! I want all women including myself to have the choice to carve out our own path without any limitations. I respect a woman’s choice to be a wife and a mother – because that would be a choice she made, and not because that is what society expects of her. I would respect a woman’s choice to become a businesswoman, instead of a mother or wife, because that’s what she desires.”

Penelope nodded, “I suppose I see where you are coming from,”

“Like you, for instance! You carved out your life in a way any woman would dream of. You chose to be a woman with great ambition and a thriving business…but you also chose to be a wife and a mother. However, radical and taboo that may seem today, it is very clear that it is possible and none of those are mutually exclusive.”

At least that's what Eloise hoped but she did not find that it would be easy to balance both a career and motherhood. It also did not sound like much fun. 

Penelope smiled, “So, if I am correct, are you implying that you would see yourself becoming a wife and a mother if you were able to run your own business as well?” She teased.

“You are overstepping! I have not suggested such a thing.” Eloise replied pointedly. Penelope laughed, “What I am saying is, I know I can have the choice to have both worlds if I desire it. And that’s what I want the rest of the world to believe.”

Eloise had always been frustrated with her family and many of her peers who devised this misconception and misconstrued view of her that she was against love in theory. She believed in love between a man and a woman, and understood why people desired it.

She simply did not understand why a woman needs to give up her own ambitions for love whilst a man still got to pursue his.

She has yet to meet a man who didn’t conform to society’s constructs (or at the very least did not uphold or disagree with them). 

Not since she met the printer’s assistant.

Not since…Theo.

In retrospect, Eloise wondered how much of that connection was real or was it merely surface level? Was she just excited to finally be able to talk to someone who shared the same views as she did –and nothing more?

On the basis, Eloise knew there was so much more to a relationship than having similar ideas. But if there was a foundation of similar interests, surely the rest could follow?

She wondered then if there ever was a man who thought in the same radical way she did. Men were rather fickle and small minded, so Eloise wondered if all men were too dimwitted to even dare to ponder on such ideas, such…fascinations.

Finding an intelligent man who wouldn’t just humor her passions, but embrace them, was difficult to come by.

Eloise did try.

For one year, out of sheer desperation, she did begrudgingly endeavor to get involved within the marriage mart and attempt to get to know her suitors –so much so, some of them even led to potential courtship –nonetheless she was sadly left disappointed and even more resolved in her decision to remain single.

A spinsterhood life is much more rewarding than spending a life of misery with a dimwitted idiot of a husband.

“You ought to attend the ball tonight, Eloise.” Penelope suggested, causing Eloise to sigh again. “I know you are against them at the moment—”

“I’ve always been against them, Pen.”

“I know! I know! But you’ve since made a reformed stance against attending them because of your political views.”

“Penelope, I do not consider my views to be political. They shouldn’t be, anyway.” Eloise said. “I look at society and then I look at the rest of the world outside of the ton, and I feel disheartened because there are women out there who are far less fortunate and privileged as I am and yet, they have the freedom to work, but not by choice, only that they are required to work to keep themselves alive. And then you have the women who live in regressive households as well, with still far less fortune. They are the voiceless and…I—I just wish I could be the voice of the voiceless, if that makes any sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. It is one of the primary reasons why I became Lady Whistledown. Many of the women in the ton cannot speak up. Sure, it can be tedious gossip I suppose but some of the women are aching to be freed from their plight,”

“And that’s why I’ll always have immense respect for what you have built, Pen,” Eloise said with a bright smile as she locked arms with her friend. “So, I want to do something similar. Not…in the same way of course, but, I wish I could be able to speak through written word.”

“Hmm…You can pass a new law?”

“Oh! I can disguise myself as a secret high court official in the House of Commons!” Eloise added to the humor.

“A chamberlain, perhaps?” Penelope laughed.

Eloise gasped, “Or a Chancellor! I could don those peculiar powdered wigs and write up the next bill!”

Penelope giggled. “In earnestness, though, I do hope to see you tonight at Lady Danbury’s ball, if not for you, then at least for me?”

Eloise sighed as she glanced down at the pleading blue eyes of her closest friend, “All right,”

Penelope giggled as she excitably nuzzled her head against Eloise’s shoulder.

The Modiste

Penelope and Eloise strolled through the doors of Madame Delacroix’s modiste shop, the business booming so exponentially, it received an expansion to its quarters in the years since.

“Ooh! That’s a lovely tulle,” Penelope remarked as she felt the fabric. “Oh, look at this organza!” She gasped.

Eloise nodded, “Sure is delightful, Pen.”

Penelope rolled her eyes, “You humor me,”

Eloise giggled, just as the ‘French’ seamstress made her appearance upon the new arrivals.

"You are back!" Madame Delacroix exclaimed with delight as she saw Penelope walk in and quickly made her way to the two women. 

“Good morning, Miss Eloise Bridgerton and Mrs. Penelope Bridgerton. What can I do for you today?” The modiste greeted with a friendly yet cheeky smile.

“Collections for the two dresses for tonight’s ball? We had a brief discussion yesterday about the dresses. I had a few alterations made a fortnight ago,” She reminded.

“Ah! But, of course! Come, come!” She gestured by wriggling her index finger as she led the pair to the fitting area.

“Two dresses?” Eloise said with a frown.

Penelope gave her a nervous smile, “I might have commissioned a dress for you in case you decided to attend the ball?”

Eloise blinked her eyes, “Pardon?”

Penelope shrugged, “You are welcome!”

Eloise laughed and shook her head.

The two then went on to fit their evening gowns for the nights’ festivities.

“You two will make the most exquisite belles of the night, to be sure!” Madame Delacroix affirmed. “It is spring time! Miss Eloise will be donning this wonderful lilac, flower embroidered piece whilst Mrs. Penelope will look resplendent in the coral floral piece. I have two hair accessories you need to wear tonight,”

Penelope grinned, “Thank you for all the effort you put in for us, Madame Delacroix.”

“Oh, anything for my favorite customers,” The modiste spoke. “I will be back in one moment,” She added before disappearing from the room.

Eloise sighed, “I could not wait to leave the house this morning. It was getting decidedly overcrowded and stuffy,”

“Too many suitors for Hyacinth?”

“Knowing Hyacinth, I am quite sure that is the case, as of this moment but no…Too many families.” She said. “Babies galore!”

Penelope chuckled. “You are the favorite aunt after all; children will naturally gravitate towards you wherever you are.”

Eloise glared at her, feeling offended at the insinuation, “You must be joking? Me? A favorite aunt? I am barely a favorite anything…”

Penelope laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous! Yes you are! You’re Thomas’ favorite aunt!”

“That is different. He is my godson, I have to be!”

“That child adores you, Eloise.” Penelope said.

Eloise mustered up a small smile, “I know. I do too, I suppose.”

Madame Delacroix returned with more tulle and got back to work on the dresses.

“Are you planning to dance with a certain suitor, tonight, mon ami?” Madame Delacroix probed, adjusting the hemline of the dress Eloise wore.

“No—No!” Eloise quickly responded, “Dancing is the last thing you would ever encounter me ever doing at a ball.”

“Someone will have an eye on you though,” Penelope pointed out.

Madame Delacroix hummed.

Eloise frowned, “Who?”

“Lord Debling,” Penelope answered.

Eloise narrowed her eyes, darting her head back at her, with raised brows, “Lord Debling?”

“I noticed his eye was wandering around to you at the presentation yesterday,” She told her, wriggling her eyebrows. 

Eloise physically recoiled and shivered at the mere thought of Debling showing any interest in her. It was not like Debling was a horrible man. There were much worse options to choose from in the ton, and he wasn’t…unappealing to gaze upon, Eloise supposed but she questions whether either of them would have anything in common.

He was a naturalist…

Although, Eloise did care for nature to a degree, she did not think she would ever want to entertain endless conversations about animal conservation.

It was also strange given the history he had with her friend Penelope…

“Do you not find it odd?” Eloise thought to ask her.

Penelope shrugged, “I suppose it was strange, initially, but I cannot say I blame him. You are indeed quite a catch. He would be dimwitted not to show an interest.”

“Me?”

“Oh, indeed, Miss Bridgerton! You have blossomed into a strikingly fine young woman. I hear many men of the ton show interest in courting you, but they refrain from approaching you in fear of rejection,” The modiste spoke.

“As they should!” Eloise reaffirmed. “I am not interested,”

Eloise glanced at herself in the standing mirror and scrutinized her features.

Eloise was accustomed to being referred to as beautiful in relation to the rest of her family, however, she has never considered herself to be particularly striking –not like her sister’s Daphne, Francesca, and Hyacinth who had many men willing to fall down to their knees at a moment’s notice.

Eloise had an acquired personality that often times fled men away from her –much to her elation – but the men who did courageously approached her professed their admiration for her beauty; very few of them complimented her on her brains though. 

When she was younger, even she admitted, she dressed in a rather immature fashion. She wore her hair in a fringe, and her clothes were more often than not, several sizes larger than they should be, simply because she felt more comfortable wearing loosely fitted gowns.

Whereas, her sisters and eventually even Penelope, opted for tighter and structured bodices that accentuated their endowed, womanly features. 

As Eloise got older and grew more comfortable in her middle twenties, she has altered her style slightly to reflect how she felt about herself. Confident. Self-assured. Adult.

She was not dressing for a man.

She was not dressing in rebellion.

She was not dressing as a form of comeuppance.

She was dressing for herself…

She has since let go of the fringe and her brothers’ tease her about it nonstop; joking about how they can all finally see what her forehead looks like.

“I have no intention of entertaining any suitors tonight, including, Mr. Lord Debling!” Eloise spoke.

“The last time Lord Debling showed an interest in anyone else in the ton, Cressida Cowper was still in Mayfair.” Penelope uttered. “She would be useful in diverting attention,”

Eloise snorted, “Rest assured, I can take care of myself.” She declared, threading a finger through her hair and smirking at the mirror.

Romney Hall

“Father, where are you off to?” Oliver inquired as he followed his father’s tail after he came out of the study.

“I am just heading out to the city,” Phillip told him.

“Why?”

“To collect a few items from the market,”

“Why?”

“To purchase some fertilizers, compost soil, seeds, new outdoor tools and other things that do not concern you.”

“Why?”

“So, that I may be able to plant more fruits and vegetables in the garden for the new season,”

“Why?”

“So that you and your sister may eat well and healthier,”

“Why?”

Phillip grumbled as he closed his eyes and halted in his tracks, dropping his head down in defeat.

Lord help him! 

He spun his body around and crouched down to his son’s level.

“Son, I will only be gone for a few hours. I shall be back before dinnertime. Now, would you and your sister please be good for Nurse Millsby and please, do not destroy the house while I am gone?”

"Okay…” Oliver responded. “Why?”

Phillip blinked.

His jaw clenched and his teeth gritted together as the familiar irritable feeling crept up on him again.

Unbelievable.

Oliver giggled mischievously and quickly ran the other direction.

Phillip sighed as he stood up and made his way to the front entrance.

“Sir, you have a letter from London.” Gunning, the butler mentioned as soon as Phillip walked into the foyer.

Phillip took the envelope and grabbed a knife to slice the wax off before flipping the letter open to begin reading it:

Dear Sir Phillip, 

Thank you so very much for the pressed flower you creatively attached to the letter. 

It was such a lovely surprise when it floated out the envelope. I would never have expected much.

Also thank you for kindly writing back to me. You did not have to go through the trouble, truly. 

In regards to the first letter, there is no need to fret over the confusion. Mistakes happen all the time. I have made my fair share, I assure you.

I could not help but notice you used the scientific name for peonies which are my favorites by the way. Are you a botanist?

Yours truly,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip couldn’t help but grin at the raised interest in his line of work. Nobody willingly showed an immediate interest in his botany, let alone assumed he was botanist from the very initial interaction. He did not broadcast it –although he supposed the flowers gave it away – but he did find it curious that Miss Eloise Bridgerton even knew what a botanist was.

Not to say he did not think a woman would be capable of knowing such things, but he was certainly surprised a woman would care about such things.

With newfound piqued curiosity, he knew he had to respond immediately. It was quite sneaky of her to end the letter with a question because now it meant that they would have to begin a new correspondence with one another.

He retired into his study for a brief moment to retrieve his quill and an ink box and grabbed the nearest textured paper to begin scribing out a new letter:

March 1821

Dear Miss Bridgerton

My, my, what a surprise to receive a response from you so soon! I am wondering if you are indeed a secret mail carrier in your spare time,

In any case, to answer your question, indeed I am a botanist, trained at Cambridge; although unfortunately I am not currently within the vocation, I am still connected to the Cambridge University in some capacity. Once a week, I give a lecture at the University, sometimes I bring the lectures home with me on very rare occasion –it has been a while though. I conduct experiments here at Romney Hall in my very own greenhouse conservatory. I get excited hearing from likeminded individuals who are fascinated with learning more about the greater world.  Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours truly,

Phillip Crane

Phillip sealed the letter with a new flower attached to it, this time in addition to a peony, came a small jasmine flower pressed onto the scented letter.

He then left his study and sauntered his way back to where he left his butler.

“Would you please ensure this letter gets sent back to London?” He said with an unusual smile on his face.

One of the very rare smiles he was able to muster since the tragic passing of Marina. 

… …

Phillip arrived in the city by means of the horse-drawn carriage in under three and a half hours. The journey wasn’t arduous as many other country folk tend to make from country to city. He would be visiting the streets of Bloomsbury this early afternoon.

Phillip did not often travel to the city unless it was strictly necessary for him to do so, but once in a while he did enjoy visiting the various cities as a form of leisure or otherwise. He often visited the plebian, underprivileged, densely populated cities of London to remind himself how privileged he was to be given the life he was born into and to also support the city folk in any way that he could.

The marketplace was the one place he could do that.

True, he wasn’t in any need to collect any more compost, soil, seeds or fertilizers that he already has in abundance in his large estate; but he did not mind travelling the journey if it meant he got to help support a vendor who worked an honest, hard labor that day simply to support his or her family.

The marketplace of Bloomsbury was bustling, buzzing and bursting with renewed life and energy that he did not experience in the countryside.

One aspect of his travels that he would greatly miss, was being centered in a city or town with as much vigor and life such as these parts. He was by no means a people person; in truth, he enjoyed his isolated, secluded life because it not only brought him serenity and tranquility, it reflected his personality. He was a reserved fellow.

But, being reserved did not signify that he wanted his life to be forever sheltered. He loved exploration as much as he enjoyed seclusion from the world.

“Get your pork rations! Pork rations!” He heard the loud voice of an older man shouting out from the opposite side of the busy street, standing in front of his butchery.

Ah! The children would probably enjoy some pork rashers.

Perhaps he'd pop over there soon.

A costermonger approached him, “My Lord! Ten pence for a crate of apples?”

Phillip dug into his pocket, “I will only take five apples, please but here you go,” He said, handing him twenty pennies instead of ten which seemed to delight and shock the old man in tattered clothes.

"I cannot take–" 

Phillip interjected, "Please, I insist! Take the money. I reckon you need it much more than I do."

“Thank you, my Lord! Bless you! Thank you!” The costermonger bowed his head after tossing five apples into a bag and handing it to him,

Phillip smiled before sauntering his way over to the seed vendor where he would purchase some grains for his crops; various fruit and vegetable seeds. He intended to bargain for lemon, fig, mulberry, apricot, blueberry and strawberry tree seeds to plant for his children who loved jam. Perhaps he could get some parsnip, onion, cabbage, beet, garlic, tomato, potato, and pumpkin and chili seeds as well.

“If you are fed up with the social classist, sexist and fascist regime that our monarchy and our government upholds and represents, then come along down to the Assembly Point where were push back against the resistance!” A street advertiser handed out flyers to passersby.

The advertiser dangled the sheet in Phillip’s face as he walked by, flashing it under his nose and handing it to him. Phillip took it and gave it a quick scan through.

It seemed as though it was one of those protest groups debate centers that he had heard about from back in his days at Cambridge.

As he sauntered along the crowded vicinity, his eyes still glued to the sheet, he unexpectedly felt the soft frame of an individual that he collided into amidst the large crowd.

“Ow!” He heard the feminine voice moan. “Pardon me, my lord!” She muttered out, although her head was down, as she walked away arm-in-arm with her companion.

“No, it is I who should apologize…” His words trailed off as he realized it was no use.

She was already gone.

He watched her as her long, chestnut brown hair fell down her shoulders, sitting in waves that flew with the wind. Her scent lingered under his nose. A heavenly scent.

Phillip sighed, shaking his head and scoffing before proceeding to saunter his way through the market.

Bloomsbury

Eloise returned to the market later that afternoon after spending the morning with Penelope. She reunited with one of her closest friends and fellow spinster, Gladys, as they attended one of the debates at Assembly Point.

“What an exhilarating speech!” Eloise remarked with a gasp as they left the assembly rooms.

“I’ll say,” Gladys added. “Have you heard the revolution that is currently occurring in the Americas?”

Eloise groaned, “Aren’t the Americas constantly in a revolution?”

“True,” Gladys chuckled, “However, is that not what we consider admirable about them? Their incessant need to redefine or combat the norm, whether good or bad, is quite modern, would you not say?”

Eloise nodded, “I agree,” She stated as the two made the way through the market, “So, what have you heard?”

“Well, countless people are gaining political freedom as political leaders and parties are rising to acclaim by championing the will of the people, pushing the country toward a future in which a wider swath of citizens are gaining a political voice. Including women,” Gladys explained. “Women’s rights movements are beginning to trickle down between the various states,”

“Well, that is pleasing to hear.”

Gladys nodded, “I even hear women are being allowed to be editors of newspapers at publishing houses,”

Eloise turned to her with wide, shocked eyes, “And here I thought it would be nonsensical for a woman to aspire to be greater,” She expressed with sarcasm.

Gladys laughed, “I am quite sure the Americas have many problems of their own, especially for a women who looks like me…”

“You cannot afford to think that way, Gladys. Change will happen for us all. Believe in that,” Eloise pointed out.

Her friend nodded with a smile.

Consequently, as the two made their way through the active market, Eloise found herself smashing into a rather large, hard man; almost sending her flying backwards and onto the ground at the intense contact.

“Ow!” Eloise exclaimed as she looked to the ground in a daze, not looking up at the man. “Pardon me, my Lord!” She apologized, before Gladys whisked her away with their arms still linked.

“Are you well?” Gladys inquired of her friend’s wellbeing.

Eloise nodded, “Yes,” She responded before glancing behind her, watching the large, wide back of the man she smashed into, walk away.

He had thick, curly, light brown hair and an imposing build. His scent reminded her of the forest; quite musky and woodsy, manly with a tinge of sweetness to him, an aromatic blend of various floral fragrances that intoxicated her nose so delicately. It was almost sultry. She had never come across a man who smelled quite like him before.

Eloise shook her head and let out a small chuckle of amusement.

Chapter Text

Party girls don't get hurt
Can't feel anything, when will I learn
I push it down, push it down

I'm the one "for a good time call"
Phone's blowin' up, ringin' my doorbell
I feel the love, feel the love

One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three drink
One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three drink
One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three drink
Throw 'em back, till I lose count

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier
From the chandelier
I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist
Like it doesn't exist
I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night
Feel my tears as they dry
I'm gonna swing from the chandelier
From the chandelier
Chandelier – SIA (String quartet orchestral instrumental)

CHAPTER 5

March 24^th, 1821

Danbury Hall

Lady Danbury’s Ball

The Bridgerton family arrived at the spring season ball that Lady Danbury hosted every year; and every year was grander than the last. This season’s ball was no different.

The display even from the exterior vantage point, as the family rode in with the carriages, was a sight to see indeed.

The venue itself was transformed to fit in with the theme, and it was quite magical to witness.

The theme of the event was “Lily of the Valley”.

An arch canopy of white garden roses greeted all those who arrived at the entrance through the West Door. The huge, lengthy, statement arch completely filled with British foliage branches and ivory blooms. It looked as though the arch is filled with beautiful tall delphiniums, blowsy garden roses, and stocks. The display also featured foxgloves with branches of beech, birch and hornbeam, which extends to outside Lady Danbury’s home and the West Door, where invited guests entered.

The Bridgerton’s all had their carriage drivers and footmen park their three carriages in concession with one another.

Whilst the married couples all shared the first two carriages, Eloise was left having to occupy the same air and space as her two younger siblings Gregory and Hyacinth; the unmarried lot of the bunch.

“Magnificent floral display,” Hyacinth remarked in awe as she looked out the window of the carriage, eagerly awaiting for the footman to open the door. “I am positively quaking in my boots for tonight!” She squealed.

“You are not wearing boots, you gump!” Gregory chuckled as he mocked his younger sister.

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, attempting to ignore his insults as she gasped suddenly, “Oh, look! Lord Everton has arrived!” She giggled as she recalled one of this morning’s callers, “Oh, he was most charming indeed. Did you know he is the son of--?”

Eloise grumbled, “Argh! Please quiet down! I do not wish to hear a play-by-play about your prospective suitors, Hyacinth,” She spoke.

Hyacinth turned to her older sister, “Eloise, you ought to be thrilled. At least now with my being in the marriage mart, all the attention mother gives to you will be on me to keep her busy,”

Eloise laughed, “Oh, how I laud you for the great honor.” She muttered, sarcastically.

Over the course of the seven years Eloise had been part of society, Violet endeavored with all her might and charms to encourage Eloise to engage with suitors, to the point where it drove Eloise to near insanity.

She softened over the years, though, and allowed Eloise the space and grace to chart her own path at her own pace when it came to interacting with members of the ton. It also helped that her focus was rather occupied elsewhere with several of her other children immersing themselves in the marriage mart.

Once Violet herself found love a second time and got married, she took the reins off of her second eldest daughter and placed her attention on her husband.

Eloise probably believed her mother gave up on her when she went passed the age range that would have been considered the right time to be married, an age where she wasn’t seen as a lost cause, a period where she was not an eternal spinster.

Much to Eloise’s delight though, because that meant she wasn’t forced by her mother to attend as many balls anymore.

In 1820, Eloise did not attend a single ball that year. It was wonderful. She filled her days and nights attending lectures, seminars and secret debates on women’s empowerment, leadership, society reform and social justice in various cities; such as Leeds, Huddersfield and Bloomsbury.

Although, last year was also the year Violet behaved strangely in regards to Eloise’s situation. She respected her daughter’s choice, but she also did not find it particularly pleasing to see her daughter in solitude, without a companion.

She was the only child of hers who seemed to be firmly resolved to stay unwed until her dying breath. Ever the romantic, Violet simply could not fathom why one of her children would choose to live a life in that way. Eloise was frustrated that her mom did not comprehend or care why she remained single and why she was content with that fact.

Although, Violet did not overtly push her to engage in the marriage mart, she did make her opinions and thoughts known by dropping subtle cues in conversations she and Eloise shared.

Eloise knew what she was doing, especially when her mother dared to bring up the love she had for her father. It’s a tactic she used on all of her siblings, which did seem to do its job because more than half of them ended up married by the end of it, but Eloise was not easily moved.

Romance was simply just…foreign in Eloise’s world. She appreciated the romantic love her parents shared and she enjoyed watching her siblings be happy and in love with their ‘person’

However, Eloise couldn’t believe her ‘person’ was out there. And that belief becomes more emboldened with each passing day. 

Eloise could not be easily swayed by small talk or superficial people.

She couldn't be bothered with simple conversation. Her attention span almost always grows more precarious the longer she spends time with a simple man. Even more so if the man is rather swollen-headed. 

If she ever considered finding a partner, it would need to be formed firmly on an intellectual connection –at least initially.

Romantic love was never a thing she fantasized about like her sisters; she never dreamed of the day she got swept up by a handsome, tall, charming man who would sweep her off her feet and bring her to her knees. She had a more nuanced view of true love, not mere flattery or romantic gestures, but of forming a bond based on intelligible and thought-provoking conversations. She found the mind to be a fascinating machine, and meeting someone with an intriguing mind would…excite Eloise, she believed.

That is what she found attractive.

She has conversed with plenty noble, society men over the years and none of them lived up to the potential. None of them could keep up with her kind of wit, banter and speech. None of them rose up to the challenge.  No one kept up with her mentally.

Most of them either tried too hard, which she could deduce from the initial interaction, and it put her off completely – or they did not try at all.

Eloise’s approach to romance was always different to that of her peers and family.

She longed for deep and inspiring conversations. Intelligence was a priority trait to her –she did not care whether the person was considered physically appealing to the eye or his social standing.

She was primarily preoccupied with things that accentuate their personality and assemble intelligence, drawn to a person’s interior more than the exterior.

Intellectual spark was vastly more important to her than emotional spark.

And since she has never come across an individual who remotely comes close, she was therefore content remaining alone and not falling to the pressures of marrying someone she knows she cannot stand to be around.

And her mother simply refused to understand that. Why would she? She had a rose colored glass view on love because that’s how she felt when she fell in love. Similarly, her sister Daphne never understood her because she herself shared the same sentiments and outlook.

The only sibling who could even remotely relate to how she felt was Benedict. Although, even with him, it wasn’t quite to the same degree at all.

He wasn’t against romantic love in the traditional sense, but he was not as accepting of the traditional way one did find love in society. Which is why it came as no surprise that he ended up marrying a woman out of society, a former servant to go even further.

 In essence, he could form a bond based on the person he found an emotional and physical attraction to, and it so happened to be found in Sophie Baek.

In Eloise’s case, it’s strictly mental attraction.

Of course, one would think the mental connection could evolve to deep, intense, romantic love at some point but she hasn’t yet experienced that to know for certain.

Subsequently, the carriage door was flung open by the footman, causing Eloise to awaken from her train of thought as the three siblings geared up to exit the carriage.

Gregory was the first to exit, adjusting his tailcoat and white gloves –as he was dressed rather dapperly – before extending his hand out to his younger sister who took it as she hosted up her sparkly, floral and ruffled, pastel-pink gown and took her first steps down the step stool.

 “Wow!” Hyacinth remarked with a squeal as she gawked up in pure wonderment at the display. “This is everything I ever imagined, and more,”

Hyacinth was for sure going to be well within her element in society life. She had been dreaming about this day for as long as she could remember.

“Do close your mouth, sister, you’ll swallow a bug and choke!” Gregory teased.

Hyacinth rolled her eyes as she whacked his arm with her feather before draping her arm around his as he escorted her in.

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle as she followed her tail; exiting the carriage and flashing the footman with a thankful smile before breathing in a heavy sigh, adjusting her shoal as she watched the many guests flock in.

Eloise’s eyes lingered around until they moved up to admire the floral display.

“Pensively pondering on making a swift exit out of mother’s glare?" Benedict suddenly spoke, pulling Eloise’s attention away from the floral display and onto him as he appeared arm-in-arm with his wife Sophie –who was grinning sweetly at her sister-in-law.

Eloise sighed, forming a small smile, “A very tempting proposition, to be sure.”

Benedict and Sophie chuckled, “Has it been over a year since you’ve attended a ball, correct?” Sophie questioned.

Eloise nodded her head, “I treasure that time, if I am being honest. However, Penelope truthfully coerced me to be here and she would not take no for an answer.”

Sophie smiled softly, “Well, you look lovely, sister. I’m happy to see you decided to come out tonight because I do not think I can bear another second of tedious conversation about the Rutledge family’s latest scandal with the other society wives,”

“I thought you loved all the gossip, Sophie?” Eloise chuckled.

Sophie grumbled, “Only if it’s good, worthy gossip.”

Eloise chuckled.

“Ready?” Benedict whispered, glancing down at his sister with a smile as he extended his free arm out to her.

She looked up at him with a smile before nodding her head and draping her arm around his arm as they waltzed into the ball with the rest of their family.

Magnificent trailing flowers adorned the front of the entrance frame loft inside, leading to the enormous, opulent and spacious staircase as the Bridgerton’s walked in –amazement and wonder breaming out of their faces as they admired the breathtaking display.

The entire grandiose, ballroom was stylishly filled with spring’s finest blooms such as sweet peas, fuchsias, ivy geranium, cherry blossoms, peonies, and lily of the valley; all of which looked beautiful and smelled positively delightful! The floral display was accompanied by astrantia and white astilbe as filler flowers, encouraging a nod to more delicate, dainty florals.

Additionally, foliage, roses, white peonies and other white blooms adorn the front of the organ loft of the quartet, orchestral band, which towers above the seats for a mesmerizing display.

Meadow runners were used down the stairs creating even more impact; it looked as though a natural hedgerow had just grown up out of the steps, while the pillars surrounding every corner of the room were decorated with lush, green, ivy leaves that bloomed lily of the valley flowers, adding to the theme.

“Ah! If it isn’t the highly esteemed and most beloved family of Mayfair!” Lady Danbury approached the family, supported by her rather ornate cane and dressed in a magnificent shade of teal.

Violet chuckled, “Oh, that is flattering, Lady Danbury! But you are too kind!” She grinned at her longtime friend.

“Nonsense! It’s the truth!” Lady Danbury grinned.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, Lady Danbury.” Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate spoke. “There has to come a time where I am not in awe at every ball you throw every year, alas, here I am…positively gobsmacked yet again by your wonderful work. How can we ever compete this season?”

“Indeed, you have certainly made it an interesting fight.” Anthony spoke. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, my love.” He lightheartedly teased his wife, who exhaled a heavy sigh in response.

Lady Danbury and a few other members laughed, “Like I always say, the first ball of the season is no small feat, to be sure! One needs to rise to the challenge and kick off the season with a bang!”

“And you certainly did just that. This is truly marvelous, I assure you!” Penelope spoke to the older woman –who she grew to respect deeply over the years, so much so that she named her own daughter after the well-regarded lady.

“I hope to hear resounding remarks on your latest issue,” Lady Danbury playfully nudged the writer with her cane.

Penelope’s cheeks flushed as she smiled sheepishly. “I will definitely get right on it with my team, my lady.”

Lady Danbury chuckled and then skirted her eyes over to the rest of the family. “Ah! Miss Hyacinth! What a delight it is to see you making your mark in the ton,”

“Yes! I finally made my debut in society.” She expressed, playfully gasping out and wiping her forehead which ignited a few chuckles from everyone.

“And I am sure you will fit right in your first season given your natural, gregarious and pleasant disposition.” Violet spoke highly of her youngest daughter as she wrapped her arm around her, “You will certainly make my life a lot easier,”

Eloise could not help but take that as a slight toward her, given that she famously gave her mother a lot of grief and stress in her first season and the seasons that followed.

“Yes…Let us hope Hyacinth’s outgoing nature doesn’t put off prospective suitors,” Colin teased, which earned a nudge of the gut from his wife. “Ouch!” He muttered lowly, clutching his stomach.

“Mister Benedict Bridgerton and Mrs. Sophie Bridgerton, I believe a formal congratulations are in order on the arrival of your newest addition!” Lady Danbury remarked.

Benedict and Sophie smiled as they glanced back at each other then back at Danbury, “We are grateful for your kind words, Lady Danbury. Yes, Baby Violet has been a wonderful addition to the family,”

“However, she does keep us on our toes. Hard to find even a minute of sleep most days,” Benedict added, causing the congregation to laugh.

“Grandmother,” A voice appeared from behind Lady Danbury, compelling her to turn around and acknowledge them.

“Ah! There you are!” She answered as she ushered him over with her hand and wrapped her arm around his arm. “I would like to formally introduce to you all, my grandson, Mr. Gareth St. Clair who is quite familiar with a certain Mr. Gregory Bridgerton during their time together at Eton and Oxford, I am told.” She spoke, cocking a warning eyebrow at Gregory who attempted to hide from her glare.

“Yes, unfortunately I heard the same,” Violet added, shooting him a quick disapproving glance. Gregory shrugged his shoulders. “In any case, it is a delight to finally meet one of your grandchildren, Lady Danbury.” She said as she went to extend her hand to the young, and rather handsome, man.

“Lady Violet Anderson,” Violet introduced herself. “A dear friend of your grandmother and the mother of these great many children of mine,” She giggled as she glanced back at her children.

Gareth St. Clair gave her a courteous bow of the head as he took her hand before leaning in to plant a rather surprising kiss on the back of her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, ma’am.” He responded quite smoothly with an incredible amount of flair and charm that left Violet’s cheek burning a searing red suddenly. “You are the mother? I would have sworn you were one of the gorgeous sisters,” He remarked, sneaking a glance at all the women with a sneaky wink.

Violet giggled uncontrollably as she got flustered, pulling her hand out of his grasp to grip onto her husband’s arm, “You are certainly a charmer! Did you get it from your uncle?”

“It is a Danbury man specialty, I fear.” Gareth responded smartly. “Is that not right, uncle?” He looked up at his great uncle who rolled his eyes at him.

“It’s nice to see you too, boy.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It has been a while.”

“Yes,” Gareth replied with a disappointed nod. “It has…Apologies for not returning your visits, uncle. Life has been rather…difficult as of late.”

Marcus nodded his head understandingly, “I understand.” He replied before quickly shifting the conversation, “I’d like you to meet my family, this is the Viscount, Lord Anthony Bridgerton and his wife Lady Kate Bridgerton,” he gestured to his son-in-law and wife and then trailed down to the rest of the family until he got to Hyacinth and Gregory, “Of course, you are familiar with Mr. Gregory Bridgerton,”

The two young men exchanged friendly handshakes whilst grinning at each other knowingly, as if they had some inside joke between them only they knew.

“And this is my youngest daughter, Hyacinth,” Violet pointed to her, pushing her forward slightly. “She is making her debut this season,” She uttered proudly.

Gareth flashed a charming, flirtatious grin as soon as he locked eyes with Hyacinth, “Miss Hyacinth…I have heard a lot of stories about you from your brother,”

“I hope all good things,” Hyacinth laughed.

Gareth gave her a quick scrutinizing look, assessing and scanning his eyes over her body, “Most definitely,” He spoke in a rather low voice.

This seemed to have compelled Hyacinth to exhibit a nervous demeanor as she uncomfortably, and apprehensively cleared her throat as she displayed a courteous curtsy before clumsily and inelegantly falling back on her heel, causing her to squeal.

“Whoops! Excuse me!” Hyacinth chuckled timidly as Anthony caught her seconds before disaster, “Uh…It is nice to meet you, sir.” She cleared her throat, “Uh…Mama, I think I would like to make a turn for a round of lemonade? If it’s possible?”

Eloise found the entire exchange to be amusing. Nobody was able to leave Hyacinth speechless or tongue-tied, no matter how hard one tried.

“Yes, dear.” Violet rubbed the back of her hand soothingly, “Gregory? Would you kindly escort your sister to the lemonade table?”

Eloise quickly interjected, “Oh, mother! I’ll do it!” She offered, swiftly grabbing hold of her youngest sister’s hand and escorting her down the stairs, giving her a clear break for it.

“I have never seen you ever get so flustered and tongue-tied before, sister?” Eloise whispered into her ear as she giggled.

Hyacinth gasped, “Did you see how intensely our eyes locked? Do all men look at women like that?”

“Like a plate of meat? Yes!” Eloise laughed.

… …

After Hyacinth drank at least two glasses of lemonade, she seemed to have recovered from that rather embarrassing and somewhat enlightening display of uncharacteristic, ungainliness born from the interaction she shared with Mr. Gareth St. Clair.

The ballroom was already being used as several couples demonstrated their polka dance skills in the Schottische; which was a slower paced polka dance. They followed the rhythm of the accompanied string quartet.

Eloise noticed her younger sister was preoccupied looking around the room for someone in particular.

“Who are you looking for?” Eloise questioned, “Hopefully not the St. Clair boy?”

Hyacinth rolled her eyes, “No! He’s Gregory’s friend and…He seems way too suave for my liking,” She stated.

Eloise hummed.

“No, I am looking for Lord Everton.” She spoke. “He and I had a thrilling conversation this morning. He is also very handsome. He’s the one I want.” She said, confidently.

“I think you ought to keep your options open,” Eloise advised. “You would not want to make a mistake in your choice…” She trailed off as soon as she realized how absurd she sounded, “As if you really have a choice, if we are being honest.”

Hyacinth frowned her eyebrows and turned to her sister, “How do you mean?”

Eloise sighed, “Listen, my advice to you is…Refrain from romanticizing the marriage mart too much. Do not think every suitor is worthy of your heart. Many of these so called ‘gentlemen’ are not as they present themselves.”

Hyacinth nodded, “Is that why you turned down so many suitors over the years?”

“Part of the reason…” She said, “It is much more nuanced in my case, so I would not fault you if you do not understand much of my opinions on the whole…institution of marriage, what have you, but you are young and impressionable, and many of these men will attempt to take advantage of your naivety. Do not allow that to happen. We do not hold much power in society, but we do have the power to decide who we choose by avoiding those who are not right for us,” Eloise stated.

Hyacinth nodded, “Thank you, sister. I will keep that in mind,”

Eloise smiled back at her sister, just as their sister’s in law, Penelope and Sophie, made an appearance as they sauntered their way to the two women.

“Hyacinth? I am surprised I have not seen you take to the ballroom floor with a suitor by now?” Sophie joked.

“I am holding out for Lord Everton,” She answered. “Eloise informed me of a trick a woman can use to let suitors know she is preoccupied with other activities to wade off suitors. Holding two lemonade glasses in both hands at the same time. Who would have thunk?” Hyacinth chuckled.

Penelope giggled, “You taught her your secret gentleman repellent trick?” She turned to her closest friend.

Eloise shrugged her shoulders, “I ought to look out for my youngest sister. I do not want her to engage with rakes,”

Sophie and Penelope shook their heads, “Anthony might be thinking the same thing as he’s currently scouting the vicinity, routing out the unfavorable suit and chasing them away before they even attempt to make an advance towards you,”

“Huh…” Hyacinth hummed. “Is Anthony going to be a problem for me?”

“Oh, yes!” All the women responded to her in unison.

“It’s such a shame Daphne isn’t here to enjoy this moment. I know she would get a thrill at seeing Hyacinth in her natural element. You are a lot like her in her first season,” Penelope pointed out.

“So you think I would have luck with a Duke? Or perhaps a Prince?” Hyacinth grinned.

“If that is what you desire,” Sophie chuckled. “Who are we to rain on your parade?”

Eloise giggled.

Penelope began, “Yes, you have a slew of options to choose from this evening. There is the Earl of Ulster, The Earl of Lonsdale, The Duke of Cumberland, The Duke of Connaught and Strathearn, Marques of Willgdon, Marques of Carpio from Spain—a rather popular one this season— and who can forget your current favorite, The Earl of Stradbroke –”

“Oh! There he is! He's coming this way! Lord Everton!” Hyacinth squeaked, jumping up suddenly as she went to place her lemonade back onto the table. “Pass over the feather fan, please?” She asked her sister.

Eloise handed her the pink feather fan to which Hyacinth took with swiftness before flicking it open; launching several demure, steady flaps against her neck down to her bosom that signaled an open invitation to the young Earl–who seemed to pick up on her cues and sauntered over to her.

Hyacinth smiled softly, but continued to unassumingly fan herself as she pretended to engage in conversation with her sisters.

“Evening ladies,” Lord Everton nodded his head.

Penelope and Sophie giggled as they stepped aside to look at the man fully, “Good evening, Lord Everton,” They both spoke in synchronization.

Eloise rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her drink.

“Miss Bridgerton,” the lord turned to the youngest sister, “May I have the next dance?” He extended his hand out to her.

Hyacinth paused to contemplate for a second before nodding her head with a smile, “You may,” She said with a slight blush as she took his hand and tossed the fan over to one of her sisters.

Penelope and Sophie giggled like teenage girls, “Oh! How exciting!”

“I know!”

Eloise scoffed, “It is just a dance,”

“A dance was just what started my love story with your brother,” Sophie reminded,

“A dance was also what halted me from making the biggest mistake of my life and also what led to Colin admitting his feelings for me,” Penelope remarked.

Eloise hummed in response, “Yes, well – I do not wish for you two to repeat the tales of how both of you managed to win the hearts of my brothers,”

As if they were summoned on cue, Benedict and Colin approached the women with their signature, elated and besotted grins that were only reserved for whenever they saw their wives.

“Our beautiful wives!” Benedict spoke as he went to lay his hand on the small of Sophie’s back. “My love, I miss you. I couldn’t bear being away from you any longer. Anthony is driving us up the wall with his constant berating over these young gentlemen,”

Sophie chuckled as she moved a strand of her jet-black hair behind her ear to look up at her husband, imprinting her hand against his chest, “I miss you too,” She said before they both shared a brief peck on the lips.

The two were not averse to public displays of affection.

“My wife! My ravishingly stunning wife!” Colin mumbled as he planted several pecks on both of her hands, causing Penelope to giggle. “You and I ought to take the dancefloor!”

“Yes, I second that!” Benedict spoke. “Let us dance! It is our love language, is it not?”

“Benedict!” Sophie scolded him with a soft giggle. “Fine! Let us do it. One dance!”

Benedict moaned, “No! Two!”

“No! One!” Sophie answered. “I would very much like to return home soon to our children,”

“Argh! Fine!” Benedict conceded with a pout as he extended his arm out to wrap around him. “Shall we?” He said with a suggestive smirk.

Sophie gave him a warning look, “Stop it!”

He shrugged at the accusation, “What am I doing?”

“You know exactly what you are doing, sir!” Sophie warned, pointedly.

Sophie spun around to scan the dancefloor and then turned back to eye Eloise carefully, “You know…You should take to the dancefloor as well, it does not have to lead to anything…It is just a dance as you say?” She teased.

Eloise chuckled, “Thank you, however, I am content standing idle by the lemonade stand. Please, go! Enjoy yourselves!” She encouraged with a gentle smile.

“Are you sure?” Penelope questioned, “We do not have to…”

“Do not be ridiculous, Pen! I am fine!” She stated, flaunting a mellifluous smile for full effect.

Penelope nodded, before allowing her husband to escort her to the ballroom floor where the many couples took center stage in a harmonized, sequence quadrille dance that followed the tune of the quartet.

Eloise stood there, taking in the sight before her, on one side, her brothers were each staring lovingly at their wives; Anthony intoxicated by Kate’s beauty and grace, Benedict trying to get Sophie’s attention making silly faces in the middle of the dance, Colin whispering sweet nothings into Penelope’s ear which made her laugh, all of it seemed like a display of inebriated, bewitching happiness that not even the other married couples of the ton seemed to share.

The Bridgerton’s were one of the very few to have all married for love. And Eloise would forever be on the outskirts of it all. She would never feel what they felt. She would never find what they were able to find in their spouses.

Even her own mother looked as if she was being transported to a different dimension all together as she danced the night away with her new husband. She experienced the familiar bond of love a second time around, although it was different from the love she had for Edmund –which would never change– the love was still pure, still real…

Eloise was prone to making light of situations and topics that were too difficult for her to grasp or that did not interest her altogether, but even she could admit to herself when she saw true happiness in the faces of people in love. Her family were all happy –save for maybe, Francesca who was still grieving but even she found solace and happiness in motherhood.

Was Eloise happy? Yes, she thought so. Was she fulfilled? No. Not at all. Not really. 

She knew she was still destined for greater things beyond her current situation.

She knew she deserved to experience greater things. Love is what made her family happy. Eloise believed she needed to find the thing that would give her the same level of happiness and fulfilment…

And she couldn’t help but feel even more drawn to the idea of having her own career. Like Madame Delacroix. Like Penelope. Like her Bristol companions such as Gladys.

Despite her many attempts at work, Anthony, her mother and society frankly, made it difficult for her to pursue it.

Anthony did not want her to work because he firmly believed there was no need for her to do so and because Anthony still held the reins to her monetary purse – and she still lived under his household, so she had to abide by his rules regardless of her age –she was still dependent on him to survive which made things very complicated.

Violet did not wish for any of her daughters to deal with the daily anxieties of making a living and wished she extended her energies on other pursuits and engage with the rest of society…

Well…

She would become a social pariah if she even dreamed about working below or above her station.

Eloise wondered then…

Could she perhaps find a middle ground?

At least…

Find a place where she can find fulfillment and joy in working, and being able to provide for herself –without having to answer to anyone but herself– and still honor her family without besmerching and sullying the Bridgerton name in the process?

She would have to develop some sort of plan of action. Eloise was known for being quite impulsive and rash, not giving much of a thought to her actions so she would need to be approach it differently. She would need to be furtive in her endeavors, stealthy and enigmatic, unassuming.

It would be a challenge, to be sure, but she is ready to rise up to it. She enjoyed a challenge.

“Enjoying the party?” A deep voice pulled her out of her train of thought.

Eloise flinched at the sudden appearance, “You terrified me!”

Lord Alfred Debling chuckled, “My apologies, Miss Bridgerton.” He spoke. “Care for some champagne?” He asked, raising a glass.

She furrowed her brows, but she did enjoy a good drink or two from time to time she would be remiss to say no to one now.

She took a sip of the drink after taking it, “Shouldn’t you be on the dancefloor with the rest of eligible debutantes?”

“Heavens no!” He remarked. “What could I possibly have in common with a bunch of teenage, ingenuous, simple-minded girls?”

Eloise turned to him with raised eyebrows, “Ingenuous you say? Is that not a main requirement for gentlemen of the ton?”

“You say it as if it is an insult,”

“I meant it as an insult, yes.” Eloise remarked.

He laughed, “Well… I do not feel insulted,”

“Hurray for you!” She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her drink. “Did my mother send you over to me?”

“Your mother?”

“Sophie? It was Sophie, wasn’t it?” Eloise questioned, confirming her own suspicions as she cursed her sister-in-law in her mind.

“Nobody sent me over, Miss Bridgerton, I assure you.” He said. “If you must know, I am currently overseeing my youngest sister who made her debut into society yesterday.”

“Lady Annabeth, is it?”

He nodded, “My mother is coddling her so she enlisted my help to be her buffer,”

Eloise smiled, “My sister did the same,”

He smiled with a nod.

“So, what brings you back to Mayfair?”

“I’m seeking a wife,” He answered bluntly with a sigh.

Eloise glared at him, “You undoubtedly are perfunctory in your ambitions,”

“I do not care much for dillydallying or tiptoeing around a matter. I do not skirt around what I desire to have anymore nor do I avoid making my feelings clear. I am too old for such childish actions,”

“At least you are self-aware with regards to your age,”

He laughed, unhitching his jaw at the offensive slight, “Well, you also aren’t afraid to be blunt.”

Eloise hummed, “Hmm, I also do not believe in euphemism. I speak my mind, which unfortunately lands me into trouble but I would rather be honest than vacant and vague.”

“And I do appreciate that,”

“Yes, so if you think you are getting what you desire out of someone like me, you are going to be sorely disappointed, my Lord.” Eloise spoke offhandedly –which would’ve been seen as the disrespect of the highest order to ever extend to a titled nobleman of high status such as Lord Debling, who was an earl. 

It was deemed improper for a lady of the ton to ever show an immediate lack of interest to a prospective suitor, and years ago it would have been an act worthy of beheading from the crown.

But Eloise simply was at a point in her life where she stopped caring what people thought of her attitude. What you saw with her is what you got. If men could not accept her for who she was, why did she have to change to make them feel comfortable?

Men were fragile beings, so easily prone to feeling emasculated by the simple act of a woman exercising their rights to say ‘no’ –and it frustrated Eloise to no end that the rights of women’s choice were not acknowledged or upheld in society still to this day in an ever advancing world.

“I see,” Lord Debling spoke.

“You would have much better luck finding a spouse in these impressionable debutantes, instead of a spinster.”

“I do not care that you are a spinster,” He lied.

Eloise knew he was lying. All the men who dared to even approach her spout the same words, verbatim, to try to woo her but Eloise knew they did not appreciate an adult woman who has grown to have her own mind because she remained unmarried for years. It made it that much more difficult for them to control her.

“Well, I care,” She answered. “I do not wish to get married, and I do not wish to have children. I feel obligated to help you realize that now before you continue to waste your time on me,”

“And why is that?”

Eloise sighed, “Do you truly wish to know?”

He nodded, “Enlighten me,”

“Because…” She began, “I do not believe there is a person worthy enough to consider a life like that with,”

He snickered, “You sound just like a dear friend of mine,” He remarked. “He has lost his belief in the institution of marriage, especially after recently being widowed. I keep telling him to seek a wife soon but he refuses because he does not believe there is a woman out there who could truly understand him,”

“Hmm. Sounds like your friend and I will have something in common to bond over,” Eloise stated.

Lord Debling nodded, “You do. I ought to introduce you two, one day.”

“Oh, so I can be his wife? Oh, you are a hoot! I will give you that.” She laughed.

“Do you even have friends?” He asked suddenly.

She glared at him.

Why would he ask such a question?

Of course she does!

“And I am not talking about Penelope…Or your siblings…I mean other friends? I notice that you do not interact with any of the other women of the ton,” He stated.

“Maybe my friends are outside of the ton?” She suggested as a pointed joke –although there was an element of truth to it.

“I find that hard to believe,” He laughed. “No society lady of your status would ever willingly make friends or be caught fraternizing with peasants,”

Eloise fell silent then, quietly disapproving of the way he addressed the lower, working class folk –some of whom were her dear friends.

“In my trip across certain parts of the world, I found out that numerous animals, such as birds and honeybees, use dance to communicate with one another. You ought to take to the dancefloor at some point…” Lord Debling planted. “Care to dance with me?”

It was deemed a gross and egregious form of unacceptable, unladylike behavior to decline a dance from a gentleman, unless one is reserved for another…

There was no man she reserved a dance for but she was in no mood to humor Debling with one either.

“Uh…” She deliberated how to let him off gently, but was subsequently saved by Sophie gesturing to her from the opposite side of the room that she and Benedict were leaving the party, “Thank you, however, it looks like I am taking my leave so perhaps, another time?” She spoke –knowing full well that there would not be another time.

Lord Debling nodded his head and bowed, “Goodnight, Miss Bridgerton.”

She nodded, “Goodnight, Lord Debling.”

And then she fled the party…

Bridgerton House

Eloise arrived at the family home with Benedict and Sophie before the rest of the family did –as they were all still enjoying the ball and wouldn’t only return in the wee hours of the morning. Sophie and Benedict could only manage to be out for an hour before retiring for the night to be with their children.

All the Bridgerton’s were active, present parents in their children’s lives in truth but Sophie and Benedict were atypical or rather, distinctive in that they were perhaps the most hands on parents of the Bridgerton siblings; their lives centered around raising their two small children.

Sophie once told Eloise that because she grew up without a loving mother and a neglectful father who died at a young age, she wanted her children to never feel abandoned the way she felt growing up. She wanted so much to give them a life where their parents were always in their lives, to experience all major milestones with them.

Sophie refused to hire a team of nurses; she only hired one who was only employed for certain hours in a week whenever Sophie was not home, but whenever she was home, she was there to mother her children. Even when it came to wet nurses, she refused to have one and was content being the one to breastfeed her children.

That evening, for instance, Posy was the one to look after their children while they attended the ball. Posy enjoyed playing the role of aunt to the children.

This type of nonconformist, domestic life was rather foreign to Benedict but he seemed to embrace it since he wished he would want his children to have a close bond with their father as well.

“Thank you, Posy for sacrificing your night to be here for the children.” Sophie spoke in melodious, faint, tone of voice as she was careful not to be loud as Charles fell asleep in his father’s arms –he woke up to greet them as soon as he heard the couple returned home from the ball.

“It was no problem at all. Violet was perhaps a bit restless at times but as she went to bed she was out like a light instantly and Charlie did miss Benedict a lot, however, we managed.” Posy spoke. “I trust that you enjoyed the ball?”

Eloise answered, “Define ‘enjoy’?”

The three of them chuckled softly.

“Well, we are going to put this little one to bed and prepare for bed ourselves. Hope you all sleep well.” Benedict began to dismiss.

“Goodnight,” Posy bid farewell with a nod before heading to her bedchamber.

“Sleep well, Eloise!” Sophie waved goodbye to her before she and Benedict sauntered up the stairs with their sleeping child; Sophie gently stroking the little boy’s back and stroking the back of her husband with her other hand.

Eloise sauntered her way up to her room as well but halted in her tracks as she considered doing something else. She spun around to head in the direction of the west doors leading to the Bridgerton lawn, but she stopped to turn her attention on the pile of letters that arrived later that afternoon, laying idly on the table.

She tiptoed over to the table to begin rummaging through the letters in hopes that she received a response from a certain widower. To her relief, she did receive a letter from Romney Hall.

She snatched the letter opener and then moseyed her way out of the house, straight ahead to the swing where she took her place. It had become her sanctuary for almost a decade, where she could think or simply…not think. To unwind. To live in her own mind. For just a little while.

She sighed as she sliced the wax open on the letter—again, it was beautifully scented as it was presented carefully, adorned with flowers with the newest addition of pressed jasmine flowers on the corners— and she flipped it open to begin reading it:

March 1821

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

My, my, what a surprise to receive a response from you so soon! I am wondering if you are indeed a secret mail carrier in your spare time.

In any case, to answer your question, indeed I am a botanist, trained at Cambridge, although unfortunately I am not currently within the vocation, I am still connected to the Cambridge University in some capacity. Once a week, I give a lecture at the University, sometimes I bring the lectures home with me on very rare occasion –it has been a while though. I conduct experiments here at Romney Hall in my very own greenhouse conservatory. I get excited hearing from likeminded individuals who are fascinated with learning more about the greater world.  Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Yours truly,

Phillip Crane

Eloise grinned from ear-to-ear as she read every last word of the letter.

She couldn’t help but be impressed as he listed his credentials. She was correct. He was a botanist! That was the obvious explanation why flowers were such a prominent fixture in his letter writing. Regardless, she was thoroughly intrigued to know that he had a vocation, and simply wasn’t a titled noble who lived off generational, inherited wealth.

Because he was referred to as a sir, it meant that he was of noble rank, but it was considered one of the lowest hereditary British titles; below a baron but above a knight or dame, she supposed. It did not matter to her though, but it was probably a reason why he was able to have a vocation in the first place.

In society, he would be referred to as Sir Phillip Crane Bt. or Bart. –short for Baronet. Being a baronet also explained why he hardly frequented high society functions, if ever. The Crown notoriously viewed low nobility with disregard. They are not a peerage or peers of the realm, and are essentially viewed as commoners with fancy titles.

In any case, Eloise did find it interesting that he sounded so passionate about his work. She was further fascinated at the fact that he was a lecturer in his spare time. She wondered if he ever wished to be a professor full time. She always was interested in higher education –as it was one of the many things that was not accessible for a woman in society.

I get excited hearing from likeminded individuals who are fascinated with learning more about the greater world. Are you of a scientific bent as well?

Eloise’s eyes were drawn to this specific part of the letter.

Did Phillip view her as a likeminded individual?

No man she has ever interacted with has ever placed her on the same plane field mentally; because she was a woman with limited education, most if not all men did not value her inquisitive mind, they thought she was incapable of having worthwhile, intelligible conversations.

Therefore, whenever she did open her mouth, she intimidated them to the point where they felt small in comparison, or they insulted her –labeling her as a woman who went above her station– which in turn, insulted her entire sex in the process.

No man had viewed her as someone of an equal mind. No man would ever consider he was clever enough to know about the science of botany. No one ever believed a woman was smart enough to know Latin scientific names for specific plants.

Phillip did not seem to question it though…

He did not seem fazed by her knowledgeable mind. 

And that thoroughly fascinated her.

Something about this correspondence was thrilling; perhaps it was simply the excitement of finding someone not related to her who actually seemed eager to conduct a written dialogue with her, to actually engage in meaningful conversation without the need to dumb herself down to make the individual feel adequate, or perhaps it was thrilling because it seemed as though someone took an interest in her mind, rather than what she has to offer in the guise of being a domesticated wife whose only purpose is to provide children and wear pretty frocks and prance around for tea with other society mamas.

Regardless, whatever it was that inspired such enthusiasm within her, compelled her enough to feel emboldened to write back to him instantly.

But then again…

She did not want to appear too eager.

She did not want to give him the wrong idea.

He did mention that she was rather swift to respond to his letters. She did not want to give him the wrong impression that she was…scandalizing the idea of conversing with a widower. 

Should she respond?

He did leave the letter with a question, so surely he should expect a response?

Eloise deliberated it in her head as she breathed in the cool, spring nighttime breeze, as she watched the full moon and stars in the night sky. What a marvelous sight it was.

She had no idea how long she sat there in silence. It could have been minutes. Hours. Days.

She did not know, but, she was comfortable. Unbothered. Content. At peace.

“I thought you would be in bed by now?”

Eloise shuddered at the abrupt voice, calling her to attention, and dragging her out of her train of thought as she quickly scurried away to fold the letter; shoving it underneath the soft, throw blanket sheathing her legs.

She darted her head behind her to see her older brother Benedict dressed comfortably in his linen shirt, unbuttoned at the top and lagging out of his breeches. 

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Eloise spoke.

He sighed as he took a seat on the opposite swing beside hers, “I could not sleep,”

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows, “How come?”

Benedict leaned his head against the thick rope of the swing as he swayed back and forth lightly, “I was thinking about you,”

"Whatever for, brother?" She questioned with a frown. 

He shrugged, "I don't know. I suppose I'm concerned for you."

Eloise chuckled, “Me? Why me?”

“I saw you tonight…” He began, “You looked a bit lonely, and I felt terrible.”

She snorted, “Do not worry about me, brother. I am fine.”

“Are you really? Because I know you’ve been reiterating the same assurance to everyone else but I know you, Eloise –at times, better than you know yourself.” He spoke.

Eloise decided to not dignify that point with a response. Perhaps, because there was an element of truth to his words she chose not to admit.

“Look, I know it has not been easy for you these past few years, what with mother seemingly pressurizing you again to be someone you’re not…And I know, and you know, she means well but she just does not understand you, and I can imagine how frustrating that must be.” He spoke.

Huh…

He was right.

He did know her well.

Eloise spoke after a long pause, “It is not just mother…It’s everything else. My life feels stagnant at the moment. I thought by the time I reached the middle half of my twenties, that I would be somewhere in my life….At least, not stuck in the same limbo I have been for years.” She said, “And it is not as if I am directionless, because I do know what type of life I desire, I—it just feels as though the life I want is way beyond reach at this point.”

“And what type of life is that?”

She turned to him, “A life of freedom.” She spoke. “Freedom of dependence, freedom to roam, freedom of not having to answer to anyone, freedom of choice…I want the freedom to choose the life I want to lead, and not the life that is expected of me. I do not want to live a life Anthony wants for me, nor what mother wants….And I acknowledge that it is quite impossible for me to have that life unless…unless I make sacrifices.”

“And you are not sure if you are prepared to make those sacrifices?” Benedict asked.

She nodded, “Yes,”

He sighed, and fell quiet for a little while to simply watch the night sky and the horizon with Eloise.

Momentarily, perhaps after three minutes, he spoke again.

“…You know, before I first met Sophie, I was in a very similar state as you. I had no clarity on which right path to take for the next stage in my life. I thought I had my entire life figured out, however…I hadn’t realized how completely lost I truly was, and I was left stranded for a period. I did not know there was another way…Until I found Sophie,” Benedict stated.

Eloise sighed as she adjusted in her seat uncomfortably as she waited for yet another tale of love from one of her siblings.

Benedict laughed at her changing disposition, “Please humor me for a moment…”

She looked to him; waiting for him to continue.

“It was only until I first met Sophie at the Masquerade Ball did I fully realize where my next chapter in life ought to be, and that is when I picked up my love for art again…I initially gave it up out of pure insecurity, I’ll admit…I did not think I was good enough, until I picked the brush up again and realized that I was good enough. My life soon became clearer,” He said, “And then it got even brighter when I found Sophie again,”

Eloise nodded her head, smiling sweetly at the recollection of their story.

“You should find your Sophie,” He stated. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Not in a literal sense, it could be in a person, it might not…But you need to find the one thing you are passionate about and go for it. Do not let any obstacle trample in the way of the life you want for yourself.”

“Easier said than done for you, perhaps. For a woman, not so much.”

“Perhaps,” He shrugged, “Or perhaps not…You are a Bridgerton. When did anything ever hold us back from claiming what we desire, sister?”

She giggled.

He did make a decent case in that regard.

“I am positive that whatever you choose to become in life will be exactly what is right for you,” He stated. “And if you happen to fall in love along the way, then embrace it too. Do not let society hold you back from choosing the life you desire for yourself.”

Eloise’s lips quivered as she went to grip his hand.

“Life has been so busy for all of us, and at times it might seem as if we are neglectful of you and the younger siblings but, I am still here for you.” He assured her. “I know you seek a companion deep down inside, you may not admit it, but I know you do…and I am happy to be that for you again. Whenever you need me,”

Eloise felt tears threatening to escape her eye sockets as she looked at her brother with immense emotional and admiration. Benedict was her favorite brother and always would be.

“Thank you,” She expressed softly.

He smiled back, “Pleasure is all mine." He expressed, before yawning. "But we ought to go back because I am on the verge of plummeting to the ground and falling into a deep sleep any moment,”

She laughed.

Romney Hall

March 30^th, 1821 

Phillip did not know why he expected her to respond to his letter. Perhaps she grew rather disinterested in the correspondence as soon as he began spouting about his botany passions.

He knew he overshared.

Now she probably thought him a peculiar individual whose only interest and obsession was his plants which was farthest from the contrary.

Phillip had a wide range of interests in many things in addition to his vocation. He had a vested interest in meteorology, travel, mathematics, gastronomy, English literary, social issues, fencing, boxing, marine exploration and so much more…

He did not consider himself to be a one-dimensional individual, but perhaps that is how he came across to people he met.

And he supposed that was how it might have come across in the letters.

He sighed…

If only he had simply just….

Talked less?

Maybe she would have responded?

He did not know why he felt this strongly about it. He did not know Miss Eloise Bridgerton. She did not know him.

Why did he care so much whether she chose to respond or not? It was her prerogative not to…

He didn’t understand why his last correspondence with the young miss felt so superfluous to him. He scared her off.

It was not like he had a romantic interest in her…

It would be way too premature to assume that.

But, it was one of the very few times anyone had ever showed an interest in him and his work without feeling as though they were begrudgingly coerced to obtain such information on him.

The back and forth banter honestly made Phillip believe he could form, if not a friendship, an acquaintanceship with her –especially seeing as he has rarely anyone to talk to about the mess in his life outside of the people who live within the chaos of it all.

Phillip supposed…

It was unfair to put the onus on a stranger to vent to. Phillip did not vocalize or verbalize his innermost thoughts and feelings; it was always difficult for him to declare himself or express his feelings out in spoken word, because any time he spoke it often led to him saying something incomprehensible or something he would later regret, so writing it out on a piece of paper proved to be rather cathartic to him.

And writing to Miss Bridgerton…

That was cathartic. She was cathartic.

And they’ve only exchanged four letters to one another in the past ten days alone – a month if you count the initial misplaced letter that started it all.

Phillip was sat in his office, balancing the accounts for the week, when he heard a light knock on the door.

“Come in,” He answered.

Gunning, the family’s personal butler, waltzed through the doors, bowing his head.

“Gunning, you know how I feel about the bowing.” Phillip sighed.

Gunning smirked, “I know, I just enjoy basking in watching the irritation on your face when I do it much more,”

Phillip chuckled weakly. “What is it?”

“You received a letter from London,” He spoke.

Phillip immediately perked up, shooting up from his seat in a rather abrupt, impishly inelegant way.

Gunning smiled with amusement, “And what was that about, sir?”

Phillip growled, “Just…Hand me the letter,” He ushered, gesturing for him to quickly pass it along.

Gunning quickly did just that, “All right, you may leave. Thank you.”

Gunning left the room, flaunting the amused grin on his face, before shutting the door behind him.

Phillip sighed as he grabbed the letter opener and sliced it open; instantly flipping the letter open with an astounded look as he saw fuchsia flower pressed on the top corner of the letter.

Bond Street, Mayfair, London

March 1821

Dear Sir Phillip Crane,

I thought it only fair to represent my own flower display in response to all the careful thought you put into your letters although, you’ll have to forgive me as my pressed flower skills leave much to be desired I am afraid. Perhaps you can teach me one day.

It is great to hear that you are an ardent scholar and educator. I've always been interested in scratching the minds of university professors. What impeled you to decide to become one? 

Hmm... You don't have to answer that, by the way. 

Anyway, in answer to your parting question…Heavens, no, I do not have a scientific mind…well…not in the written documentation sense, I suppose but I do enjoy reading books on natural history. I have several books, one of which is in relation to flowers and plant life so I suppose that’s how I have an idea of what goes into the study of botany. Fascinating stuff I must say.

My interests however lie more in the literary fields, be it gathering information, writing or reading fictional books, and politics –however radical that might sound. But I do find that particular world speaks more to who I am as a person than anything else. But I am eager to learn more though, that’s what I can say for certain…

Unfortunately, it does prove to be difficult to do that at times.

Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you soon when you have the chance.

(How do you reckon should I end the letter? Yours truly just seems redundant and overdone)

Warm regards? (Too formal? I think we’ve established this correspondence has become rather informal as of late)

Yours in friendship?

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip sank back in his chair, grinning from ear-to-ear as he read to letter.

Miss Bridgerton seemed to have quite the wicked sense of humor. She also seemed to be rather, quite intelligent. And honestly…It also surprised even Phillip how much of a prolific writer she was. She did not seem to want to stop writing, a fact he deduced from the undulations of each stroke of the pen. He wondered what kind of person she was in real life behind the pen.

She seemed to have a mind of her own.

A woman having an interest in politics was completely foreign to him, but oddly enough, it did not intimidate him.

He followed politics as was written in the newspapers, but corruption ran so deeply within the current government that he did not engage much in it, let alone engage in conversations centered around politics.

But he supposed he would need to pay more attention to politics if he intended to keep up with Miss Bridgerton…

After a while later, he decided to begin scribing a letter of reply…

Chapter Text

Here's the thing, we started out friends
It was cool, but it was all pretend
Yeah, yeah
Since you been gone

You're dedicated, you took the time
Wasn't long 'til I called you mine
Yeah, yeah
Since you been gone

And all you'd ever hear me say
Is how I picture me with you
That's all you'd ever hear me say

But since you been gone
I can breathe for the first time
I'm so movin' on, yeah, yeah
Thanks to you
Now I get what I want
Since you been gone

How can I put it? You put me on
I even fell for that stupid love song
Yeah, yeah
Since you been gone

Since You’ve Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson (orchestral violin instrumental)

CHAPTER 6

April 3^rd, 1821

Bridgerton House

Eloise woke up one morning with a start –the sounds of little children running around the corridor outside of her room, jolting her out of bed in fit of fright and alerting her that her peaceful sleep was now compromised.

Exhaling a sigh and a groan, she reluctantly hoisted herself up in a sitting position in her bed and groggily pulled her covers up to her stomach as the noise of childlike screams and laughter filled the air.

One would assume Bridgerton House would be relatively quieter now that most of the family have all returned to their respective homes following last week’s festivities what with Hyacinth making her debut to society, but it still seemed as though the house was still buzzing as if nobody left.

Daphne and her children were the first to leave after Hyacinth’s debut when The Duke arrived to pick his family up to head back to Clyvedon House.

Francesca and her son, young John Stirling II left for Oxfordshire soon after to spend the remainder of the spring season there.

Gregory returned to his dormitory residence at the University of Oxford along with his companion Mr. Gareth St. Clair.

Colin and Penelope traveled to the country side with their children to visit Penelope’s sister, Philippa and her husband Mr. Albion Finch with their two children.

Benedict and Sophie stuck around for a little while longer, having only left for My Cottage a day ago.

Eloise was grateful to spend more time with them when they were in the city.

The couple were a hoot to be around. She had more laughs with them than any other couple (yes, which included Penelope and Colin which was a tall order).

Eloise felt she could be more herself when she was around Benedict and Sophie, perhaps, because they understood her and all of her quirks and embraced them; and their children were much easier to spend time with than Daphne’s or Colin’s at times. Perchance, it had a lot to do with fact that there were two of them and they could send them off for midday naps?

Anthony’s children were also not normally a disruptive presence for Eloise, except for the mornings when their energy levels were at their highest.

Miles especially was an absolute menace before breakfast time.

Today was no different.

Why Anthony’s children were always up at the crack of dawn, causing a ruckus on Eloise’s bedchamber floor –their bedchambers were on the east wing – is beyond her!

Eloise supposed it was part of the course of living in the same household as Anthony and his family. She would have to contend with the children if she continues living under the same roof as her older brother and his family.

Or maybe not…

Perhaps, she could find a way to circumvent this predicament. Perhaps she can find a solution to this problem.

Eloise called in her maid to assist her in preparing for the spring day, “Is my brother awake?” Eloise asked her.

“Yes, Miss Eloise,” The maid nodded her head. “I believe he is breaking his fast with Lady Bridgerton and the children,”

Eloise smiled, “Perfect. Thank you,” She responded before heading for the door and leaving her room.

Her presence was noted as she emerged in the Bridgerton’s drawing room where the family was congregated, enjoying their morning breakfast.

“Eloise! You’re awake!” Hyacinth squealed with a wide beam, acknowledging her sister in the middle of her conversation with Kate.

“Oh, good morning, Eloise!” Kate greeted warmly. “Care for some crumpets and blueberries? We saved some left for you in case you would like them.”

Eloise smiled at her sister-in-law, “No, thanks. Neddy may have them. I can see his mouth watering as he eyeballs the entire tray right from here,” She chuckled, winking at her nephew who grinned with excitement as he looked over to his mother.

Kate sighed, as she gave him a nod of approval before he immediately reached for the last two remaining crumpets and devoured them whole in one bite.

Eloise sighed as she drifted her eyes over to her brother, Anthony, who was preoccupied reading the daily newspaper from The Morning Herald.

“Anything on there that’s particularly titillating? Enlightening? Perhaps…Illuminating?” She quizzed, chuckling softly.

Anthony sighed, turning the page, “What is it, Eloise?”

Eloise frowned, “Why the frosty greeting, brother?”

Anthony looked up at her, “Forgive me, but do you honestly find the newspaper illuminative?”

Eloise gasped, nearly offended by the insinuation that she would not be interested in the daily newspaper, “Uh… Well! Yes! Do you think because I am a woman I would not find the news of the day to be informative? Do you think because I am a woman I do not find what men read to be noteworthy too? Do you think because I am a woman I would not find construing the issues of the government stimulating to the mind? Honestly, I’m appalled by the insinuation, brother. You should know me by now!”

Anthony scoffed, “No. I am well-aware of your political stance on social and governmental issues, sister. You love to make it known to all who wish to hear it –even when we hear it against our will.” He teased.

Eloise sighed, “In any case, I wish to run something by you.”

Anthony took a sip of his tea and glanced back down to his newspaper, although his ears were perked up, signifying to Eloise that he was listening, “Go on,”

“Well…I was pondering,” She began, “What would your opinion be if a young woman, preferably in the middle of her twenties, decided to live independently and she requested the support of her older brother in doing so? What’s it say, the young woman, in question…could receive her own house?” Eloise asked in riddles.

Anthony looked up at his sister, sat there in silence, before scoffing and shaking his head as he stood up from his chair, “Um…I would consider the woman to be positively mad to even suggest such a thing,” He chuckled as he set his tea on the table and walked over the refreshments table to retrieve a glass of water.

“But why?” Eloise questioned, following his tail. “You assisted Benedict in securing My Cottage when he requested to leave the house?”

“Yes, because Benedict was in need of his own estate.”

“As opposed to I? Am I am not allowed my own place of refuge?” Eloise asked, earning a frustrated sigh from the viscount. “Is it because I am a woman?”

“Eloise,” He sighed. “We have talked about this,”

“Answer me! Is it because I am a woman?”

“Yes! Among many things,” Anthony answered, pointedly. “For one, you have no inheritance to a property,”

“I know plenty of women who hold right to their own property by means of inheritance,”

“Yes, and how many of them come from families with a living male heir? None!” He countered, “Secondly, you are unmarried and I still have a dowry set aside in your name—”

“I can use the dowry to purchase my own property! Problem solved!” Eloise quickly suggested.

Anthony glared at her, “Are you quite serious?”

“When have I ever not been?”

Anthony shook his head, “No, Eloise! Besides, the dowry is specifically set aside in the likelihood that you do marry one day. That is the case for you and for Hyacinth, as it was the case when Daphne and Francesca wed.”

Eloise scoffed, “Trust me, brother. You needn’t have to concern yourself about that. I am in my seventh year in the marriage mart. Nearing five and twenty. You will be waiting a very long time until that day comes which might as well be never so why not use the dowry now for something worthwhile?”

He shook his head firmly, “No!”

“Daphne never used her dowry?”

“That is because the Duke refused a dowry,”

“…And then the dowry was placed in a trust for Daphne to spend as she saw fit which is no different than what I desire for myself?” Eloise argued.

“Eloise, I cannot. I am sorry,” Anthony told her as he exited the room. Eloise then followed him again.

“Why not?” She pleaded. “I am not asking for much. I am not asking for a sprawling land with hundreds upon hundreds of acreage. I can live in the city still, just…perhaps in a smaller, quaint dwelling place. A tenement?”

“Which you would need to take care of all on your own? You would need your own staff, your own cooks and secretary?”

“If I need to do so then so be it?” She shrugged. “And if that proves to be an issue, I can do all of that on my lonesome!”

Anthony cackled, “Hilarity! You can barely dress yourself every morning without the assistance of maids, how can you possibly work your way around the kitchen? Or more so, run a household?”

She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the not so subtle jibe at her, “I am a spinster! I have no reason to be in your household anymore. Sooner or later, you will have more mouths to feed; why would you want the burden of looking after your younger sister in addition to all the responsibility you have already?”

“You can relieve me of the stress by getting married,” Anthony pointed out.

“That’s not a solution, it’s a tragedy!” She countered. He sighed. “Look, I will not be a bother to you. I promise!”

“If you desired to not live under my household, why did you forego living with mother when you had the chance?”

“Because mother moved into her dowager house and then wound up engaged a mere month later! Not to mention she would constantly be coddling me as if I was a mere child again, she would have continued cajoling me to be someone I am not. I did not wish that life for myself. You were the next best choice because you do not care what I do, most of the time.” She explained, “Please, Anthony! At least consider it?”

“I do not think it’s possible, El.” He stated, “Not only is it unheard of, or rather…rare, but it’s also dangerous for a single, unmarried, woman of society to be living on her own. Men can easily take advantage of an unblemished woman of the ton.”

“I can take care of myself,”

“That you think so proves you are not ready to live on your own, Eloise.” He stated,

“Francesca lives in and runs her own estate?”

“Correction: It’s the Killmartin Estate in Scotland that now belongs to her son which he would inherit once he becomes of age! She is the countess so she is well within her rights to live there. She’s also a widow so she has freedom to run the estate as she pleases, until the young earl is of age.” He responded.

“Okay! Fine!” Eloise spoke. “So, let’s pretend I am a widow then? We can conjure up a story for the ton! Say I had an elopement and my husband sadly passed on our honeymoon!”

He laughed, “Pure lunacy!”

Eloise kept quiet, simply because she knew it was a ludicrous suggestion.

“I am cognizant of your desire for freedom but it just is not feasible for a lady such as yourself but you ought to consider yourself lucky that you do not have to concern yourself on such trivial matters like these. You are not some peasant town girl who is forced to fend for herself given her circumstances. You do not have a vocation in which you can support yourself—”

Eloise interrupted, “Well, why can I not have that? Why can I not find work so that I may be self-sufficient? I know many women who are living a life of freedom and are able to work freely to earn a living!”

“And where do you know such women?” Anthony questioned.

Eloise halted in her tracks, as she realized she divulged a little too much information, but swiftly thought of an elaborate lie to cover her tracks, “Well…In the books I read?”

He sighed, “Right! Mother is right, you do read far too much for your own good.” He said, flinging open a door.

She found herself entering Anthony’s office and shutting the door behind her.

“If I had some form of education that you received, then I would be able to find a line of work that a woman of my class or what have you, would be deemed acceptable to have.” She explained, “Please, brother! I just need a tutor from the University of Oxford or Cambridge, perhaps? Teach me a few skills that I can use in the workforce! Or…I could even work for you?”

“Work for me?” He laughed, taking a seat in his office chair.

“Yes!” Eloise exclaimed with excitement, realizing she might have just found the perfect solution. “I could liaise with the solicitors! Deal with the books! Or I could be a merchant for the family? Perhaps, if you could find me a professor to teach me medicine I could be the family’s doctor?”

Anthony stared at Eloise with wide, open eyes, shock, no, amusement with a tinge of horror at Eloise’s astonishing suggestions, “Are you off your rockers?”

Eloise responded with humor, “I suppose the medical route is a bit of a stretch. Besides, the sight of blood makes me squeamish, and it leaves me in a constant state of trepidation and I find diseases to be dreadfully disgusting so…” She spoke rapidly.

Anthony scoffed, shaking his head, “Eloise, you are a lady of society. You needn’t concern yourself over these things.” He reiterated. “Once you marry, you may do as you please with your husband’s support.”

She pursed her lips together, folding her arms. “Argh! I loathe the notion that marrying will solve all a woman’s great ambitions! The notion that one can only be free to do as they choose, only if their husband signs off on it is an oxymoron in and of itself. Maybe I do not want a man to be the reason why I can be what I want to be? And besides, no man would ever agree or support what I desire!” She expressed, pacing back and forth the room.

“Eloise…” Anthony sighed.

“Anthony?” She questioned. “I will not marry! And I do not think there is a man out there who can fully support my ambitions either so I implore you, brother…Do this for me?”

He sighed, “I don’t know that I can, Eloise? I simply cannot. I’m already overwhelmed as it is with the prospect of potentially marrying Hyacinth off in her first season, not to mention, running two…maybe…three estates? I have several businesses and investments I need to attend to on a daily basis. I cannot add another thing on my plate, right now. I am sorry,”

Eloise sighed, as she hung her head down, and exhaling a sigh as she rested her hands on either side of her hips. Defeated. Deflated. Disappointed.

“I sympathize with you, sister. I do. I understand your desire for freedom, but right now, I am not in a position to give that to you.” He said. “However, I will consider your proposition to work for me on a case-by-case basis. Nothing too strenuous though. Perhaps, you can increase your pin money allowance by sorting through the documents while Kate and the children are away in Aubrey Hall?”

Eloise sighed, although she decided to consider it because it was certainly better than nothing at all. It was not what she wanted but it was something she could have in the meantime till she figures out her next course of action.

She modestly nodded her head.

Anthony nodded, “Good.” He cleared his throat before wading with his paperwork, “Now, would you excuse me, I have a lot of work to do. Do you mind shutting the door on your way out?”

She rolled her eyes as she walked out of the study and shut the door behind her, wringing the knob to a close.

As she made her way down the stairs, she was stopped by the crepitating sound of footsteps and a call from one of her nephews.

“Auntie Eloise?” Edmund called to her.

She turned to face him, “Yes, Neddy?” She looked down at the little boy with big, expressive brown eyes and thick jet black, wavy hair and light caramel skin –a perfect blend of both Anthony and Kate.

“Uh…W-what is the matter? You seem upset?” The little boy looked up, going to hold her hand.

Ever the empath, Edmund was constantly caring for the needs and feelings of others. A trait he received from his mother, without a doubt.

Eloise smiled, “I am fine, Edmund. You needn’t have to worry about me,” She answered, gently stroking his soft, plump cheeks.

He giggled in return. 

Eloise then noticed his eyes wandering around, “What is it?” She asked him. 

“Do you know where father is?” He asked.

“He is in his study. Currently occupied with his work,”

Edmund’s head dropped, “Oh,”

Eloise smiled sympathetically, “He will be finished soon, I’m certain of it. In the meantime, why don’t you look for Humbodlt and play tricks on him with Miles.” She whispered into his ear playfully.

He giggled, nodding his head as he sped away on his feet to fetch his brother.

Eloise shook her head as she continued descending the steps and prepared to leave the house, when she was suddenly compelled to stop by her footman.

“Miss Eloise!” Footman John spoke.

‘Yes! Could you please prepare a carriage for me? We are heading to Kensington!” She told him. 

“Very well, Miss.” He nodded. “However, you received another letter this morning.”

Eloise cocked her eyebrows in interest, stopping herself from smiling at the thought of the letter being from a certain botanist who she has recently struck up a friendship with.

“From?”

Footman John handed her the letter.

She took it and read the words ‘Romney Hall’ on it. Try as she might, she couldn’t escape from smiling slightly when she read the words.

And the footman noticed.

She glared at him, “What?” She demanded in defense.

He shook his head, “Nothing, ma’am.” He spoke, yet his smirk grew wider.

“Well…” She cleared her throat, dropping her hands down at her stomach and standing tall in a demure, unbothered stance with a stern, focused facial expression. “Ready the carriage then!”

“Right away!” He bowed before departing the room.

When Eloise was sure he was in the clear and out of range, she hastily went to seize the nearest letter opener and flicked the letter open.

April 1821

Dear Eloise Bridgerton,

Ah! Yes! Yours in friendship does sound befitting of this budding friendship we’ve struck up with one another. :).

 Thank you for the…uh…attempt at flower pressing. It is actually quite adorable, I must say! And yes, I am willing to teach you but I do think it would be difficult to teach over a letter correspondence. It is an intricate art form, flower pressing.

I jest! I jest!

I love fuchsia flowers too, though. They are mostly found in the South and Central Americas; those tropical lands. Beautiful flora! Wish I could grow them here, but I am positive they would not contend well with the climate here in the countryside –very unpredictable. Hardy fuchsia seem to survive outside of the country. Did you know fuchsia’s grow best in well-draining soil in dappled or partial shade and should be planted in areas sheltered from the wind? My guess is you have quite a good nursery system at your home?

And yes, I do enjoy studying greatly. It’s interesting that you find my being a scholar so fascinating. Normally woman tune off at the mention of university.

What impelled me to decide to become a professor? Well…It’s simple. I enjoy the field of study, learning new things and finding new theories and scientific discoveries and with that, I enjoy pushing my energies into imparting my knowledge to others. People seek to learn more than the world they are exposed to and I am happy to help them discover more of that world. Science is used as a means to improve industry. Did you know that science is now looking at chemistry and the world beyond what’s visible to the naked eye? Such as atoms and viruses? We can possibly cure diseases! Imagine that.

So, that is what fascinates me most about teaching.

Although, like I said…I wouldn’t consider myself a professor. I am just in that line of work.

I do appreciate that you have an interest in more educational and informative pursuits. It’s very rare you find someone who genuinely enjoys such things in society. Thank goodness, I’m not within that world. I can imagine how trying it can be, being constantly bombarded with the trivial pursuits of the marriage mart and society mamas.

And I do like reading as well, although I am less interested in fiction and more interested in factual books –biographies, research, modern day science, innovative invention and arithmetic books etcetera.  Politics? Hmm…What interest’s you most about politics, if you don’t mind me asking?

In any case, I hope this letter finds you well. I hope all is well on your side of the country. You’re doing well, I take it?

I look forward to your response soon. This correspondence has been a delight, I must say. I confess to a certain measure of isolation here in the country, and so having a most friendly letter dialogue puts a smile on a gentleman’s face. So thank you for that, friend! ;)

Oh! Before I forget, I have attached a new flower this time around. This one is a Chrysanthemum. Hope you have a lovely day, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Eloise found it incredibly difficult to contain the smile that spread wide, all over her face –nor did she care to contain it at all. Eloise had a rather disappointing and tense conversation with her eldest brother but somehow she forgot about it all in that moment. The letter cheered her up instantly.

She never believed she could find comfort in a grieving widower –and from a man no less!

Phillip seemed different from all the men she knew outside of her own family – even so, he was nothing like any of her brother’s. He seemed to genuinely care for other’s wellbeing?

From the letters they’ve exchanged with one another, not once did he boast about himself, his estate, his acreage, his capital or anything of the sort.

One could say he boasts about his love for plants quite frequently but Eloise found that, oddly, endearing? She found it quite sweet that he was so passionate about his work and was unabashedly engaged with discovering more.

He spoke about things that were foreign to her. How fuchsia plants grow in less than harsh temperatures, for instance. How science was evolving into…atoms? Eloise had no clue what atoms were nor would she ever venture to find out what they were, but she does respect that he was so intelligent.

That’s one thing that excited Eloise most about him; he was incredibly smart from just his letters alone –she did not once imagine what he looked like behind the quill and fountain pen.

And he was quite witty too. 

He seemed quite grounded and down to earth, which was rare among the pool of men in society –but Eloise would be lying to herself if she didn’t question whether or not it was a façade he put onto pen and was a hideous beast behind closed doors. 

He did seem genuine though…He seemed really in tune with what’s happening around the world. It almost intimidated Eloise how well-read and traveled he sounded on paper –something Eloise wish she could do had she been given the opportunity.

She was delighted to have another friend who was intelligent enough to hold a conversation with, especially a male friend. She doesn’t have many male friends, if at all. Perhaps, Phillip could be her first?

However, there was a niggling feeling pulling at the back of her mind in his final parting words…

What was the meaning behind the text in the shape of a…wink in his letter?

What was the meaning of the pressed chrysanthemum? Eloise did not know a lot about flowers, but she did know that different colored chrysanthemums were used to convey different emotions from the sender to the receiver when gifted.

Yellow chrysanthemum symbolized sadness, grief and loss of love. Eloise recalled the many times her mother organized flowers to be sent to recently widowed neighbors and friends across Mayfair.

Violet chrysanthemums symbolized unbearable pain and heartbreak at losing a loved one; she often saw these mums at funeral displays.

Blue chrysanthemums signified the forging on of a deceased romance.

White chrysanthemums signified deep love and devotion to the fallen; most commonly used on burial graves of the deceased.

Red chrysanthemums were used as a declaration of passionate love; a romantic gesture of admiration, adornment and desire.

Purple chrysanthemums signified excitement at a new relationship.

What was curious about these particular flowers was that Eloise did not know where exactly to place it. They could be red…they could be yellow…or maybe they were orange…

If they were orange, what did that symbolize? Did Phillip desire to start something more than a friendship with Eloise?

A…relationship?

Eloise’s face turned blank as her cheeks began to flush; burning a deep crimson red shade that in and of itself signified mortification and…fear.

Kensington

“So…” Eloise began as she patiently –rather, more aptly, impatiently – waited for Gladys to release her verdict. “What do you think?”

Gladys examined the mums flower, lifting it up in the air, then to the side to get better lighting, before she spoke, “It’s orange.” She confirmed.

Eloise’s eyebrows creased in a brow, “Orange?”

“I think it’s red!” Naomi –Gladys’ younger sister interjected.

“It looks orange to me,” Esmeralda spoke, as she swept the floor. “Although, I am known to be quite color blind.”

“No, I definitely believe it to be orange.” Gladys stated.

An orange chrysanthemum? What did that mean? What did that particular shade of flower signify? Eloise was no floral ingénue or aficionado, so she would need some further clarification on this.

“Well, what does it mean?” Eloise probed.

Gladys shrugged her shoulders and handed the letter back to her, “I wish I knew, Eloise.”

Eloise sighed as she slumped in her chair.

“How long have you been corresponding with this gentleman?” Naomi asked with intrigue, as she beamed and awaited her response.

“Perhaps two months? Give or take a few days.” Eloise stated.

Naomi squealed and giggled, “How exciting! Do you feel a romance blossoming?”

Eloise widened her eyes in shock and vigorously shook her head, “No! No! Categorically not! There is no romance whatsoever…At least on my end of the quill there is certainly not! I do not desire a romance at all, not with him or with any man. That is why I do not wish to give him the impression that I am interested in one, either.”

Naomi pouted, “Oh.”

“I see,” Gladys responded. “Well, it might not mean much to him. You did mention he was a botanist, correct?”

“Yes, he is.”

“It could just be a lovely gesture, he probably meant nothing by it.” Esmeralda spoke.

“And you know, men, they do not give careful thought in anything they do. Do not fret about it,” Gladys stated, taking a sip of her drink.

Eloise disagreed with her though.

That can be said about most men, but not Phillip. Eloise has known him well enough to know he puts careful thought into what he does –maybe he can appear absentminded at times in the way he writes; sometimes he scratches out words he does not wish to convey on paper but he at least puts careful thought in the presentation of his letters. Always so intricate, thoughtful and sweet. Friendly.

Friendly.

She certainly hoped it was friendly.

“I should read one of my books on natural history. Perhaps they have definitions and significance to certain flowers and their insignias? Hopefully…I hope…” She repeated, gnawing her bottom lip as she tapped the letter on her hand.

“…Or you can ask him yourself?”

“And make a fool of myself? No, thank you!” Eloise sighed as she sat the letter on the table. “It’s bad enough that I also have to contend with my brother invidiously abusing his power over me and dictating everything I do.” She groaned.

“What did he do?”

“It isn’t so much what he did, but rather, what he is not willing to do that’s the crux of the matter.” Eloise said, “He refused to consider my offer or desire, rather, to have my own property. He also censured my desire to hold a vocation. Ultimately, he does not want to grant me freedom and independence.” She sighed.

“He is the viscount, Eloise.”

“And he is a man of society,” Gladys added.

“He would never understand. Did you expect him to respond any differently?” Esmeralda added, speaking in her unique accent –a blend of the traditional English accent and that of her native land of Venezuela.

“No, I suppose.” She sighed in frustration. “Nevertheless, I thought his love for me, as his sister, would override the societal tradition prison mindset he’s been firmly locked in,” She added.

“Men in society will never change, thus society will never change. Women will still be viewed and treated terribly for centuries to come.” Gladys stated.

Eloise shrugged, “I know…But look at you! All of you still live independent lives. Neither of you need to ever answer to a man.”

“But we do still answer to people. Our employers,” Gladys stated. “Yes, we live in this tenement together but this is still on the grounds of the family we work for. Whenever they are home, we do as they say, no matter how hard it can be. You are most fortunate you do not have to endure the pains we do on a daily basis,”

Eloise did not believe that. She felt differently to them. Whilst they might view their situation as a gilded cage, she saw it as a utopia. Working for a living is something Eloise dreamed of doing for the longest time.

Granted, she has no concept of what work truly entailed, however, she spent a good portion of the past five years watching and speaking to her sister-in-law Sophie Bridgerton about it when she was just a mere lady’s maid of hers when she was still Sophie Baek.

Sophie explained all the trials she got to experience throughout her tenure as a maid; from when she was a mere child and teenager working for her cruel, wicked stepmother Araminta Gun, to working for The Fife Family briefly, to working for The Cavender’s where she nearly got assaulted by one of the sons. 

It was a wicked, cutthroat and ruthless environment for women of a lower class, Eloise was aware of that.

The Bridgerton’s were so different from many of the other families that it was quite jarring for someone like Sophie to end up working for them for a short while. And being around the Mondrich family –where she briefly served as the children’s governess shortly before she wedded Benedict –opened Sophie to a world of possibilities; a world where working class citizens could wind up becoming part of high society.

Eloise wondered if there was a world in contrast to that. Not necessarily a world where a high society woman became working class, but where a woman could work and still enjoy the trappings that the comfortable life afforded her.

Eloise was grateful for the life she led and would not trade all of it for sure. Merely, a small portion of it would she be willing to trade. Her life was not destined to be purely just marriage and children, surely. Her life was not destined to be confined to a small and private sphere.

She was merely asking for freedom to chart her life in her own way.

It was not a tall order, was it?

Eloise shook her head…

She was rambling on and on in her head; and made next to zero sense.

Eloise was currently in Kensington where Gladys worked alongside her younger sister and their closest friend Esmeralda. Gladys and her sister, Naomi relocated out of Bristol to work for a family, the McCorquodale’s of the Earldom of Sutton.

Gladys served as the family’s head cook, Esmeralda served as the family’s maid and Naomi worked as the family’s laundress and occasional nurse to the family’s five children.

Gladys had aspirations to open up her own food and entertainment establishment alongside Esmeralda one day, who dreamed of becoming a renowned clothing shop one day –a lot like the booming business Madame Delacroix built.

However, Naomi aspired to be a teacher. She enjoyed being around children, although, her lack of adequate education has hindered her from becoming one, nor even a governess.

They all had such great ambitions and Eloise treasured being around such likeminded individuals.

“Regardless, I do not foresee a life for myself outside of my family’s shadow unless I run away to a different country? Maybe a different land?” She scoffed, laughing at the absurdity of her suggestion. “Or I, somehow acquire a university level education that can allow me to learn something I can use to get work.”

The room fell silent.

Eloise furrowed her brows in confusion as her eyes bounced from each woman to the next, “What is it?”

Gladys shared a look with her younger sister who nodded back encouragingly, “What if you can receive an education?”

“How would I do that?”

Gladys continued, “Esmeralda is an excellent artist who can design a disguise that may just be what you need to remain inconspicuous enough to attend university.”

Eloise frowned, looking between the women, “Are you quite mad?”

The women laughed, “Trust us,” Naomi spoke.

Eloise sighed, “Could this get me into trouble?”

“Possibly,”

“More than likely.”

“Yes,”

Eloise contemplated for a brief second before sighing as she conceded, taking a swig of her alcoholic beverage until the glass was empty and setting it on the table, “Why not? It is not like I have anything left to lose at this point.”

The women all squealed with excitement as they began conversing and conjuring up a plan of action.

Eloise briefly trailed off in thought as she glanced back down at Phillip’s letter as she couldn’t help but let her thoughts wander off to him…

Pembrokeshire

April 4^th, 1821

Phillip took Mr. Colin Bridgerton’s offer to go net fishing by the river in the outskirts of the mountains –not so far from where Colin’s brother-in-law Mr. Albion Finch lived.

“I’m glad you decided to come fishing with us,” Colin mentioned with a smile as he tossed the large net over the shallow waters of the river amidst the peaceful outdoors. “Full disclosure, I haven’t gone fishing in over five years!”

Phillip chuckled softly as he let his net fly, landing hard onto cold waters, “Truth be told it has also been a while since I went net fishing myself. I habituated in trout fishing with spears when I was a young lad with my late father and brother,” He explained.

Colin turned to him, “You have my deepest sympathies,”

Phillip shrugged, “Nonetheless, I do enjoy fishing. The last time I went on a fishing expedition was a little over six months ago?”

“Oh, quite recent?”

Phillip nodded, “Mhmm. It was one of the first trips I ever embarked on with my young boy, Oliver and my secretary Mr. Carter,” He explained,

“You went fishing with your secretary?”

“He’s more than that. He’s quite aptly a substitute father to me,” He expressed.

Colin smiled, “I will admit, Sir Phillip. I do not know you as well as I should,” He said, reeling in his net slightly to catch the school of pike fish. “Perhaps, we should change that and see more of one another? One day you can make a turn to Mayfair when you are free,”

Phillip smiled, “I would like that. Thank you for the kind invitation,”

Colin nodded, “You’re most welcome. You can bring the children along as well. I’m sure they’d get along swimmingly with my brood. Have they traveled to the city before?”

“Not since they were born, no.” Phillip answered.

He never realized that he never took the children to the city. He rather wished to keep them separate from that kind of lifestyle. The children also never made a point to bring up their desire to see the city so that contributed to why he did not even bother.

“How are the children coping since Marina’s passing?”

“All things considered, I think they are coping about as well as they can be…” Phillip didn’t think to ask them how they were doing. He just assumed they were doing okay. “Amanda has taken the loss the hardest of the two. She’s a tad bit more fragile than her elder brother –who would rather spend his days gallivanting and galloping all over the lawn,” Phillip sniggered.

Colin laughed, “Reminds me of my boy, Thomas. He loves the outdoors which proves to be a challenge for him because he is easily prone to sun burns,”

Phillip frowned, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Why is that so?”

“Penelope believes it has a lot to do with his skin? He is a redhead after all. A trait he received from her side of the family, no doubt. She and her sisters were always susceptible to heat burns when they were younger as well.” Colin stated.

“You ought to try a few herbal remedies to help protect your children from sunrays. Natural products and extracts you apply only on the skin. I can write a few things you can find and then try? You’d need coconut oil, tea tree oil, castilleja fissilfolia. Evening primrose oil whenever they sleep at night and uh…aloe vera and borage oil can treat the skin and also improve its appearance. This is because each herbal extract shows antioxidant, antimutagenic, emollient and anti-inflammatory properties which is ideal for all skin types, including your own. I use it on myself and my children all the time. It is vital to protect our skin every day.”

Colin blinked as he uttered so many bombastic terminology that sounded foreign to him, “Well…Thank you for the advice. I will note it. You seem quite prepared for survival do you not?”

Phillip scoffed, “No, I just like discovering new innovative ways to live.”

“Ah! That makes sense,” Colin chuckled.

“Also include certain foods that will help combat the harsh heat; food such as, watermelon, nuts and seeds –specifically walnuts – and blueberries and carrots.” He added.

Colin nodded, “Just how smart are you, sir?”

Phillip’s cheeks burned a deep scarlet red, “Sorry, I tend to go overboard when I talk about the sciences.”

“No. I respect that.” Colin spoke, “Believe me, if you speak to my family, they would tell you about my many ramblings on my travels.”

Phillip mustered up a small smile as he caught his own large shoal of crappie fish.

“You’re quite an expert at fishing, it seems.”

“Like I said, part of the course of being raised out in the country side with my elder brother. He would be far better than me though,”

Colin smiled, “Looks like he’s struggling,” He looked up, gesturing to his brother-in-law who was finding it difficult to even throw the net in the right direction into the water.

Phillip snorted, “Not everyone is a natural-born fisherman,”

“I’ll say,” Colin laughed. “My wife has always told me the day she met you, she found you to be an honorable gentleman. If you ask me, I think she was rather charmed by you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, I do not wish to admit it,” Colin joked. “She regrets not paying Marina visits while she was still alive.”

“Marina did mention your wife and the Featherington family once or twice. She had respect for Penelope.”

“She did?”

Phillip nodded.

“Did she…Did she read Lady Whistledown?” He asked, suddenly.

Phillip frowned, “Lady Whistledown?” He posed, then it clicked. “Oh! The gossip column? Um…We never paid heed to the gossip from the ton. I never much cared for it myself and Marina ensured none of that trivial drivel was in our households as it caused many pains and so much grief to families and peoples’ lives according to her.”

Colin paused in silence for a brief period.

“Should I know about the column?”

Colin swiftly responded thereafter, “No—No! Not at all! You are honestly better of being blissfully oblivious and impervious from the dramatic blather of the ton,”

Phillip nodded, “How is your wider family doing?”

“They are good.” He replied, “My youngest sister recently made her debut into society a few days ago, so that was one of the many rare occasions where all family members were stationed in the same vicinity.” He added.

Phillip nodded, “And…How many sisters do you have?”

“Four,” Colin stated. “One married, one widowed, one in the marriage mart and the other is a self-imposed spinster.” He chuckled.

Spinster…

He must be referring to Eloise.

Phillip did not consider that Eloise might have been a spinster during their correspondence. For all he knew, she could have been married as well.

Although, he supposed he was relieved to find out that she wasn’t.

It would have been odd to form a friendship with a married woman.

He was not looking to give her the wrong idea of his intentions though.

It was just….

It was lovely to talk to her.

And he did not want to stop talking to her.

Their correspondence was an unconventional way of building a friendship seen as they do not even know each other but the friendship journey still progressed in a way normal, in-person friendships would grow strangely enough.

Phillip hoped it would become a friendship of the minds.

He did not know much about the Bridgerton family but from what he could gather from Colin and Eloise; the family seemed pretty tight-knit. There was the heir to the Bridgerton name, Colin, Eloise and their sisters.

Quite a large family he reckoned.

Bloomsbury

Later that afternoon, Eloise took a turn to the marketplace with Gladys to collect ingredients for food meals for the households after attending one of the human rights’ seminars at Assembly Point.

“I would think adequate access to proper health care for all should be well within reach, should it not?” Gladys spoke after purchasing a bag of carrots.

“You are correct,” Eloise said.

“It is not radical to desire the same proper medical attention members of the ton receive. The only access someone of my class receive are the inexpensive, small centers that are not able to provide any relief from illnesses such as hay fever due to lack of funding and resources. This injustice is simply unfair and there needs to be change,” Gladys spoke.

Eloise nodded in agreement, although she found it difficult to give her opinion on the matter seen as she’s always been privileged to have the best medical treatment and care money could offer, unlike the rest of working class society.

She shared her sympathies with Gladys.

“When are the family you are looking after, returning?” Eloise asked.

“In less than a week,” Gladys spoke. “I had to convince Reginald to let you in this morning,” She added, referring to the McCorquodale family’s personal butler.

“I think he would have agreed to anything you asked of him,” Eloise stated with a bemused smile.

Gladys glared at her, “How do you mean?”

“You cannot possibly be so blind?!” Eloise gasped. “The man is infatuated with you!”

“Do not be ridiculous!” Gladys scoffed, “That is a daft suggestion,”

“Am I wrong? He lights up anytime you enter the room! He gets flustered any time you call upon him. He smiles ever so charmingly whenever you speak to him. He is clearly taken with you, Gladys! And I think you are too,”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “You do not know what you are talking about,”

“Perhaps,” She stated. “Nor do I wish to, but I have seen my siblings’ court long enough to recognize these things.”

“Even if he took an interest in me, it does not signify my interest.”

“That is fair,” Eloise nodded, “Although, I will admit. You could find worse people to love,”

“What do you know about love?” Gladys giggled.

Eloise blushed, “You got me there, I suppose.”

Gladys chuckled as she gestured to the costermonger; requesting a bag of six tomatoes.

Eloise’s eyes wandered around the marketplace; several people walking up and down, having conversations with their companions or eager to get to their destination points.

Her eyes suddenly landed on a familiar figure; Eloise had to practically make a double take to be quite sure her eyes were not deceiving her, and in truth, they were not.

Theo Sharpe!

Eloise very nearly gasped at that moment.

She had not seen this man in years!

“I know that man,” Eloise gripped onto Gladys’ arm and pointed at him,

Gladys followed her gaze, noticing the man, and then turned back to her friend, “Okay? Who is it?”

“Uh…Just somebody I used to know in my teenage years,” She explained. “I will return in a jiff.”

“Very well,” Gladys said.

Eloise adjusted her cotton cloak around her arms and neck as she approached the printer’s assistant she used to know. Her first heartbreak.

“Mr. Theo Sharpe!” She greeted, intending to appear confident but ending up sounding impishly sheepish.

He spun around to acknowledge her presence. His eyes bulged in pure shock when their eyes locked and he realized who she was.

“Miss Bridgerton?!” He exclaimed, “W-what a lovely surprise! I did not expect to find you here.”

Eloise chuckled, “Neither did I,”

“It has been years since we last saw each other,” He remarked with a crooked smile. “How have you been all this time?”

“I have been well. I have been well.” She nodded, “And yourself?”

“Taking each day as it comes, I would say,” He stated.

Eloise smiled politely, and then awkward silence soon crept up on them –seen as the last time they were in the same room with one another; Eloise was left in tears.

“What is new in your life? Are you married?” He probed.

Eloise quickly shook her head, “No—No! Uh…No, I am not!” She giggled nervously.

He nodded.

“And yourself?”

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a soft, feminine voice calling his name, “Theo! I finally secured the last crate of apples!” A young, blonde haired, green eyed woman exhaled a melodic laugh as she made an appearance from behind him.

Theo turned to acknowledge her with a soft smile but glanced back at Eloise with terror. “Oh! That is perfect, my dear.”

Eloise widened her eyes. Oh?

“Who is this?” The young woman furrowed her brows when she spotted Eloise as she stood beside Mr. Sharpe.

“Uh…This is an old friend of mine, Miss Eloise Bridgerton.” Theo spoke, draping an arm around the young woman. “Miss Bridgerton, this is Gwendolyn. My wife.”

“Your wife?” Eloise spoke, with wide eyes before turning to the woman. “Your wife! Oh! Yes! Congratulations! T-That is fantastic news!”

Theo chuckled apprehensively, “Thank you,”

Eloise turned to the blonde woman and extended her hand out to her, “It is so lovely to meet you, Gwendolyn.”

The woman took her hand and gave it a gentle shake, “Likewise.” She added.

Eloise smiled.

She had no idea how she thought she would’ve reacted to the news, but she oddly found herself feeling a sense of indifference towards it. She thought she would be bothered by it but she did not care one way or another. It has been so long since she last saw and spoke with Mr. Sharpe; and she hardly ever thought of him in any significant way.

However, she did always wonder if she could receive some form of closure after how frosty their final encounter was. Now she was able to receive that closure, knowing that he seemed happy, and she was ready to close that chapter of her life forever.

Although, she could not help but wonder if Theo shared the same sentiments for her, judging by the way he was ogling her. Eloise started feeling a sense of discomfort being around him at that moment, feeling his intense gaze on her that she tried to hide away from, so she suggested to take her leave.

 “Well, it was lovely to meet you and see you again. I hope you have a wonderful day and lead a wonderful life ahead together,” Eloise stated.

“Thank you! That is so kind,” Gwendolyn spoke, resting her hand on her stomach, drawing attention to a small burgeoning bump.

Eloise smiled with a final parting nod and turned around, heading back to her friend.

That was the loose end that she was happy would forever be tied and put away in the far distance of her memories.

Now she was looking forward to leading a prismatic life with a clear direction and purpose.

It was imperative that she did.

Chapter Text

Clock strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away

I've done alright up 'till now
It's the light of day that shows me how
And when the night falls, loneliness calls

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me
Oh, I wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me

I've been in love and lost my senses
Spinning through the town
Sooner or later, the fever ends
And I wind up feeling down

I need a man who'll take the chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
So when the night falls
My lonely heart calls

I Wanna Dance With Somebody – Whitney Houston (orchestral string quartet arrangement)

CHAPTER 7

April 10^th, 1821

Romney Hall

Phillip was hauled up in his greenhouse for a large portion of the day; studying his plants, conducting experiments on his latest phytology development and monitoring each one of the germinating flowers.

The greenhouse was Phillip’s great sanctuary; he was able to get away from life’s pressures and ignore the anxieties for a few hours until he returned to them.

When one recalls the last time one is told to “stop and smell the roses” or express a compliment that one looks as “fresh as daisies”, you soon realize that these short idioms are reminders to us that plants are a part of our lives.

Plants not only provide the world with necessary oxygen in our atmosphere and food for our table, but they also provide beauty and an appreciation for all life on Earth.

In Phillip’s case, they also provide a sense of peace and tranquility.

Between 1817 and 1818, Phillip heard of the tale of two famous French botanists, Joseph Bienaime Caventou and Pierre Joseph Pelletier who discovered a breakthrough in botany called chlorophyll in plants.

Chlorophyll was a green substance or pigment that was found within the plant cell. Although little was known about the pigment, Phillip hoped one day he would find out more about the significance of this pigment.

Today was one of the days he did more digging and investigating.

He had one of his research books open wide, sprawled across his table as he followed the formulas of his latest experiment as he used his microscope to study one of his plants scientifically known as ficus elastica or more universally known, the rubber plants.  

Ficus Elastica or The Rubber Plant –sometimes known as The Rubber Fig, Rubber Bush, and Rubber Tree depending on what type you obtain – was a species of flowering plant in the family Moraceae, native to the eastern parts of South and Southeast Asia. Phillip was able to obtain several rubber tree seeds during the trade of the markets and has been planting these trees in his garden and greenhouse for over half a decade.

Phillip heard through the grapevine, that in parts of India specifically, people guide the roots of the rubber tree over chasms to eventually form living bridges in the wild.

Phillip was so inspired by this invention that he soon modified the longstanding bridge over the lake with the foliage; which he connected with several vines and adorned with various different flowers that bloomed every spring and summer.

The luscious, evergreen and overgrown plant perfectly surrounded the large, spherical Crane house mark that featured the family emblem or crest –which featured the image of a crane bird with a crown on its head, a Celtic knot, a shamrock, a rose and a thistle and two swords. This family crest had a rich long history for the Crane household and was incised on the façade of several key points of the house –the bridge being one of the immediate attraction to any guests who arrived.

The Rubber Plant was a low maintenance plant that was a little more unique than the usual plants you find. At first glance, one would not immediately think there is nothing extraordinary about them, but they are a very intriguing type of flora.

When propagated, Ficus Elastica developed thick, broad gleaming leaves with a large surface area, that was were came in a wide variety of different colors. These plants were so unique in that they could mature up to 60 meters in the wild, however, they retained the ability to be easily be maintained when grown indoors as well.

In an odd way, they acted more like trees than regular plants, however, that was precisely what made them an excellent statement plant to have in the home –which is why Phillip boasted several of these figs in pots all over his living room. The roundness of the leaves make it the perfect plant to be placed in the corner of the home.

Because of the large surface area of the leaves, the rubber trees had air purifying qualities that perfumed and cleared the stuffy, at times, polluted air of his home and garden. If properly cared for, they can produce plants that pick up pollutants and chemicals, absorb them and turn them into harmless compounds.

As indoor plants, they represent abundance, wealth and happiness –which hasn’t been a fixture in the Crane household for quite some time due to recent events. So in a symbolic way, they do serve a great emotional support booster in the home.

The seeds of the trees also produce oil that Phillip was able to use in soap, paints, varnishes and even insect repellent. He also used the wood of the rubber trees in his garden to make paper in his spare time. He found it so fascinating that so many trees and plants could be used for different uses, and he was eager to decipher other secret, hidden uses of the many plants at his disposal in his green house.

Rubber Plants were not the only vegetation he had been monitoring today through his botany research.

Cypripedium macranthos, the large-flowered cypripedium is a species of orchid was one fascinating florae he was invested in studying. It is native to Belarus, Russia, Mongolia, Japan, and Korea.

Banksia nivea, commonly known as honeypot dryandra was a species of rounded shrub that was endemic to Western Australia. The Noongar peoples know the plant as bulgalla. It had linear, pinnatipartite leaves with triangular lobes, heads of cream-colored and orange or red flowers and glabrous, egg-shaped follicles.

Orobanche Alba, also known by its common names the thyme broomrape and red broomrape, was a holoparasitic plant of the broomrape family. It parasitized the plants from the mint family.

It was native to countries across Europe, the Middle East, Asia and North Africa. As Orobanche Alba was polymorphic and had been relatively poorly studied, there was often uncertainty over taxonomy and classification.

Orobanche Alba was usually found on dry sunny slopes, steppes, subalpine and alpine grasslands, growing in calcareous, alkaline sandy and loamy soil.

It can only parasitize certain plants, seeds must come into contact with chemical signals such as strigolactones from the roots of the host plant in order to germinate.

Parasitic life cycles involve the exploitation of at least one host. Parasites that infect a single species are said to have direct life cycles. For example, the hookworm species Necator americanus. Parasites that infect more than one host are said to have a complex or indirect life cycle. For example, the malaria plasmodium.

He found all of it so riveting.

In the midst of his microscopic research, he was distracted by the image of his son springing, sprinting and frolicking across the large, estate lawn; and chasing after the family’s newest pup—an English springer spaniel named Bessie—with a stick.

The nine week old pup was a gift given to the children by Lord Debling’s mother who was an avid breeder of dogs; with one of her dogs giving birth to a litter of puppies.

After the children expressed their desire to have a four-legged friend to play with, it didn’t take Phillip long for him to agree to it and they took a trip to Yorkshire to allow the children to choose one to take home.

Phillip thought a dog would keep them occupied outside instead of causing a ruckus inside the house; but it would also give them a boost in their morale; a spur of joy he hoped they would experience again ever since they lost their mother.

It did not take much to make Oliver happy, but Amanda required a lot more convincing. She was the emotional one of the pair, easily susceptible to hysterics and distress. He was relieved to see that the new puppy managed to cheer her up as she was able to shower it with lots of love.

Observing Oliver frolicking with the canine, ushered memories that harkened back to his time as a little boy, dashing towards and roughhousing with his childhood dog, Winston, the Basenji hound.

He and his older brother loved spending their afternoons in the yard, soaking up the sun and lapping up all the fun they had with their pet.

Not only was it fun to do together, before she died, their mother used to join them in their fun. If memory served him well, his mother was the one who convinced their father to acquire a dog in the first place as his irascible and churlish father was never too keen on the creatures.

He vaguely recalled having spontaneous picnics with his mother by the lake with his brother and their dog. Their father obviously did not partake in that.

When she died, outside fun quickly became a rarity in the Crane household. The late Sir Thomas Crane not only created an environment where the children hardly had any fun, but also, ensured that they led a miserable life under his watchful eye.  

George still found a way to get him and Phillip to sneak out inconspicuously to go on adventures out of their father’s awareness. George always made sure his younger brother had a little bit of fun in his life as he grew up.

It made not having him around that much more painful for Phillip because George should be here in his place; to be present in his own children’s lives. He would have reveled in being a father to the twins.

They would hail him as the most convivial, captivating and entertaining parent to be around –unlike what he assumed the children thought of Phillip; monotonous, obscenely dull, or strangely uninteresting.

Phillip shook his head as the memories swiftly faded from his mind and he resorted to putting his complete focus and attention back onto his experiment; surveying the plant’s reaction to different pathogens to test its durability and endurance.

Several minutes later, he heard a light tap on the glass door of his greenhouse.

He darted his head slightly; and caught the sight of his daughter waving to him enthusiastically with her comfort doll in her grasp and holding the hand of the elderly Nurse Millsby.

Phillip ushered them in with a nod before resuming his experiment.

“Good day, sir.” Nurse Millsby greeted.

Phillip nodded, flipping onto the next page in his theorem book and adjusting the dish on his microscope, “Good day, Mrs. Millsby.”

“Afternoon, father!” Amanda said in a high-pitched tone of voice.

“Hello, Amanda,” He answered, leaning his head in to look into the microscope glass. “How are you?”

“I am well, father!” She replied.

“That is good to hear,” He sighed as he flicked the lenses to zoom in.

Consequently, there was a brief pause after—which Phillip did not seem to notice until the pause became more evident to him.

Then he realized…

Nurse Millsby was speaking to him!

He simply could not register her voice in his head.

“…Sir?” She called, and then called again, “Sir?”

“Yes?” He answered. “How can I help you?”

“Miss Amanda has been working on her new ballet dance with her ballet instructor this morning that she would love to show you,” Nurse Millsby informed him.

“I hope you like it!” The little girl spoke with hopeful eyes and bright, wide smile as she looked up to her father.

He glanced back down at her, watching the adorable little girl sway back and forth sheepishly —with her long, soft, thick curly hair pulled into two side buns and dressed in a pretty pink tulle frock that was shortened to reveal her white stockings and pointe ballerina shoes.

Before Marina died, she enrolled Amanda into a dance school because she loved to dance and the ballet instructor from the Royal Academy of Dance came once every week to give her dance lessons. In 1820, pointe shoes were becoming popular in the world and Marina bought her a brand new pair of pointe shoes so she could dance with them.

You would be hard pressed to find her not wearing them as Amanda took every opportunity to dance when she could.

“May I show you my routine? It is called the Cec-c-c…” She paused as she began stuttering, then she glanced back up at Nurse Millsby for assistance.

Nurse Millsby smiled encouragingly, stroking her hand. “The Cecchetti Method,” She whispered to her.

Amanda grinned with confidence as she looked back at him and answered, “The Cecchetti Method!”

“Amanda…” He began with a sigh.

“Oh! It’s a dance they are currently performing in France! There are plenty moves I learned this morning. The arabesque, pirouette, relevé—”

“That is delightful, my dear but I am quite busy at the moment. Do you mind showing me later?” He asked, but did not look for a response as he swiftly shifted his attention back on his experiment, calculating his next formula in his head whilst eying the pathogenic plant.

“But—”

“Not now, Amanda!” He retorted, in a stern and direct, slightly raised tone of voice, immediately losing his count because of the distraction.

Amanda hung her head down in sadness; feeling dejected by her father’s rejection, she spun around and quickly sped for the door, tears now brimming in her eyes.

Phillip did not register how dismissive he was until Nurse Millsby pointed it out; and scolded him for it, “Sir, it was completely unnecessary to be so unkind. She merely wished to show you something that brought her joy,”

Phillip halted, closing his eyes and lifting his head back up; recognizing his error only after the fact, “I am sorry—I–I did not intend to be so curt with her,”

Nurse Millsby sighed, “I’ve known you since you were a little boy. You were always so precocious and kind, even then…” She trailed off, “I know it has been difficult on you ever since Lady Crane passed, and it can be frustrating to be doing this on your own, however…You are not alone,” She reminded him.

He nodded his head.

Nurse Millsby nodded her head, "I shall see to it that Miss Amanda is all right,” She informed him before nodding her head and leaving the room.

As she exited the greenhouse, Phillip noticed his secretary and confidante, Miles Carter was lingering by the door.

Phillip exhaled a sigh as he collapsed onto his stool, tossing his head back in exasperation.

“I—I will speak to Amanda as soon as I am done,” He assured him, attempting to avoid another scolding from another person who he looked up to.

Mr. Miles Carter was quiet for a while before speaking, “You have been here since dawn, sir.”

Phillip looked at him with confused eyes, “Yes?” He said as if it were a question.

“It is past midday.”

“How long has it been?”

“Eight hours, sir.”

Phillip’s eyes bulged as he went to reach for his pocket watch and noticed the clock signifying it was past one post meridian, approaching two o’clock.

“Goodness, would you look at the time!” He grumbled as he went to gather up his books, “I lost track of the time it seems. Did I miss any important agendas for the day?”

Miles Carter shook his head, “Not today, sir. But if you did, I would have saw to them,”

Phillip sighed and nodded, “You are a saint, you know that Mr. Carter?”

Mr. Carter snorted, “That I do,”

“I do not know what I would do without your guidance and assistance. Truly. You are invaluable and I am indebted to you,” He stated. “My father did not appreciate you enough for helping run the household the way you do for all these years,”

Mr. Carter didn’t respond.

He and Phillip’s father never quite had the most courteous of relationships. They did not see eye to eye on several occasions.

They tolerated each other though, with the simple reason that they both assisted each other in reaching their individual objectives.

Phillip wondered why he continued working for the cruel man for all those years when he had more disadvantages in the job than he did benefits; he could have easily worked for a much more amiable family elsewhere.

Although, he would be remiss to even suggest he was not grateful he hadn’t left because he did not know if he would be able to find a worthy replacement for him if he ever left.

“In any case,” He moved the topic along, “You have yet to respond to a letter that arrived yesterday morning,”

Phillip darted his head towards him, “A Letter?”

“Mhmm,” The distinguished gentleman nodded his head, before pulling out a letter and handing it to him. “From London,”

Phillip snatched it and gave it a quick glance before groaning, “Right! Right!”

It was a letter from Mayfair.

His last correspondence with Miss Bridgerton was exactly a week ago. For full frankness and transparency sake, he had almost completely forgotten all about their last exchange – what with how eventful the week has been for him.

He was known to be quite absentminded at times.

“Thank you,” He expressed to him before turning in his stool and setting the letter on top of the stack of scattered books.

“I have a question, sir,” Miles Carter posed, just as Phillip was about to flip open the letter.

Phillip tilted his head with a frown, “Yes, Miles?”

“You have been corresponding quite a decent amount to London in the last month or so…If you don’t mind my asking, who is it that has you so enthralled in engaging in letter conversation?” Miles Carter asked.

“Is it a crime to share letters with people now?”

“No! No! Not at all, sir! Forgive me,” He expressed. “I am just curious,”

Phillip sighed, “If you must know, I have formed a friendship with someone,”

“Might this someone be a lady, perhaps?” Miles probed, cocking an eyebrow and flashing an amused smile.

Phillip frowned, “Yes?” He answered nonchalantly, wondering why it would be so peculiar. “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all,” He said with a smirk. “I just want to note that it seems to have had a positive effect on your disposition lately. You seem a lot more smiley. I have not quite seen you smile for a while…”

Phillip flashed another bemused look. “Miles, what are you trying to imply here?”

“What I am saying is…” Miles continued. “This correspondence appears to be good for you,”

“Right,”’ Phillip sighed, “Look, I do not know what you think is happening or what you think I am doing but this is simply just an exchange between friendly strangers. Nothing more,” He spoke.

He would go even further.

He did not know the woman he was exchanging letters to; having never laid eyes on her or been in close proximity to. But even so, she did feel like a friend to him.

“…And nothing less?” Miles teased.

Phillip glared at him,

Miles Carter chuckled, surrendering his hands, “Very well! I shall be on my way,” He stated before nodding his head, bidding a goodbye and turning on his heel.

Phillip sighed as he reached for a makeshift letter opener –which honestly was just the nearest sharp object – and sliced open the wax before flipping it open and began to read:

Bond Street, Mayfair, London

April 1821

Dear Sir Phillip,

Forgive me for not accompanying this letter with a flower like before. I know my strengths and I fear they do not lie in the art of flower pressing.

Thank you for the interesting tidbit about fuchsia flowers. I did not know that at all. And you are correct. Here in Mayfair we have a small nursery and at our country estate, my family own an orangery that holds some of the most ambrosial plants. My father fancied himself flower arranging as one of his hobbies.

Being able to study at a university is something I always dreamed of doing. Most women aren’t afforded the opportunity to dream such a life.

I’ve always wanted to meet other university professors and rake their brain a bit. My elder brothers do not tell me much about life in university. They believe I will be too ‘scandalized’ if I hear too much about it. Which in itself is so frustrating but such is life being a woman in society –and an unmarried one at that.

Do not be alarmed if I constantly ask questions about your profession from time to time. And if you want to continue talking about science, feel free! I don’t know much about science but like I said, I want to know more about the world.

I only know the paraphernalia and information I learned from my governess and all the many books I have read over the years but I would love to put it into application. I also am only privy to a fraction of the information women are allowed to know, albeit I do try to gather as much knowledge that I can. When I visit the library in the city, I use my pin money to purchase old textbooks on fields of study I have no basis of knowledge on.

And you are right…It is incredibly frustrating at times to want things that women my age do not relate to or desire –be it through a lack of imagination or a lack of adequate knowledge. I do not ascribe that kind of thinking.

My interest in politics for instance is admittedly limited, but I am aware of the injustices that happens in the government and society and one of my biggest lifelong ambitions is to somehow be a part of a movement that leads to the change we need to see in our world. Be it as an active supporter or a spearhead for change…I know I sound presumptuously ambitious to think in such a radical way (as I have been told by so many people) but I cannot sit idly by and watch disadvantaged people wither away and succumb to a miserable life they are not supposed to live. Surely there is a way we can move forward and become a better society? A society that is more tolerable and accepting of one another? A society where women and men were all afforded equal opportunities to become whatever they heart’s desired! I am not saying I am expecting everything to change tomorrow, but hopefully the journey to that world can start right now.

Apologies for my incessant rambling…You probably think me a militant extremist because of my views. And perhaps you are right, but I simply cannot be a quiet spectator when I know there is a better world out there for all. That is precisely the reason why I do not enjoy being in the ton because I just know I do not belong here. I belong with the people outside who are making a real impact on society.

I am surprised you have reservations about the ton as well given that you are all the way in the countryside but also…Not surprised, I suppose. It is irksome to say the least. Sometimes I wish to just…get away from it all.

Anyway…Sorry for the rant! I just simply needed to get it off my chest after having a heated discussion with my brother about this very topic.

To answer your next question, I am well, thank you –all things considered. But enough about me, how are you doing? I know it has been almost two months since Marina…

How is your household? Are they coping well? Are you coping well? 

And…A hearty grateful appreciation for the flower. It is lovely…What a kind gesture from a friend.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

The letter was as expected…a delightful read.

Eloise was such a compelling and prolific writer. She was able to keep one engaged and at their edge of their seat by her tales; that she considered rambling but Phillip considered it entertaining how she seemed to let all of her thoughts splatter on the page.

She wrote as though she was someone who was incredibly self-assured; seeing that she was comfortable enough to even divulge the fact that she was unmarried. Most women would be ashamed of even admitting that on a letter, but Eloise? She was unafraid.

At least…That is what Phillip gathered.

Truthfully speaking, he was stunned to find out she was unmarried. Surely, someone in the ton would have wed her in an instant. Perhaps there was more to her than meets the eye? He did only know the version of her that was written on paper. He wondered then if maybe her being single was a product of her upbringing and her appearance or was it a conscious choice she made for herself.

Phillip wondered if it would be deemed too impolite to ask her about this. He also speculated if she would be offended if he asked her age, but he was just too curious. How could not one man in the ton seize to marry such a fine woman of an intelligent mind? Surely, she had a deluge of suitors throwing themselves at her feet wanting to court her.

There must be a reason why…

Hmm…

He would have to ask her one day.

Whatever the case may be, Phillip was eager to respond to her soon.

But not until he finished his work for the day.

Subsequently, he felt a rumble in his stomach begin to growl.

…Perhaps he should eat first.

Marylebone

April 11^th, 1821

Eloise sat in the back of the carriage with her face practically cemented to the glass window as she bore witness with her very eyes, the bustling city folk walk by as they went about their working day.

Eloise beamed a wide grin as images of everyday working people; young and old, men and women, spent their day going in and out of the many shops and stores.

Unlike Mayfair, in the high street of Marylebone was a city where any person from any class could frequent.

Eloise enjoyed the gossip of the ton to a degree when she was a teenager but as she became an adult she grew rather tired of the constant snobbery among the chitchatting ton whenever she strolled along Grosvenor’s Square, Hyde Park and The Abbey.

She loved that the people from this part of the city were mostly working class; well-meaning men and women who worked to be able to afford even a semblance of the life society members lead.

Eloise smiled as the carriage rode past a blacksmith smithy where the blacksmith and his employees wielded material, then she rode past the locksmith shop where different keys were being repaired, cut and installed, then she rode past the carpenter’s shop where various types of woodwork carpentry was being done; be it tables, chairs, and doors.

She looked over to the other side of the carriage to gape at the wonder of the stark contrast as she spotted several people slipping out of a butchery, carrying in their hands the meals they would cook that night, then she spotted a florist shop selling some of the freshest and beautiful flowers of the season, and then her eyes skirted over to a pawnshop that sold many used pieces furniture and equipment.

She was however distracted with intrigue as her eyes stumbled upon a newspaper store that received, packaged and redistributed several newspapers from the top four main newspaper houses in the country; The Morning Herald, The Morning Post, The Morning Chronicle and The Times.

Oh! How much Eloise wished to work for a newspaper company one day.

She saw herself as a writer —not like Penelope with her Lady Whistledown column though. She did not wish to become a writer of a gossip column, but rather, a newspaper correspondent who reported on the news of the government, the country and the rest of the world.

Gathering information and putting into print was something she enjoyed doing from the moment she wrote her first diary entry at the age of only nine.

Eloise often heard her older brother, Anthony, refer to newspaper editors and correspondents who had their own separate columns as, ‘ink stained wretched scribblers’ and from then she was hooked.

She was captivated. She was intrigued. She wanted to know more about them.

Of course, for a lady to become a newspaperman, hell would have to freeze over. It was incredibly rare for a woman to become a correspondent unless they ran the business alongside their husband’s and even then a woman’s role in the company was miniscule.

The only column a newspaperwoman could have in the daily newspaper was a tiny puff piece on the latest fashion in the country, if they were even lucky. And payment for that type of work was barely even a penny.

Eloise was not the sort who would be satisfied writing puff pieces. No. She yearned to speak on real social issues, exposing the injustices of the government and speaking out for the voiceless and seldom acknowledged groups, such as women. They too needed to have a voice and their voices to be heard.

Eloise’s many inspirations to become a writer were authors Jane Austen, Diana Astray, Mary Alcock, Lady Harriet Acland and Mary Astell – an English writer, philosopher and rhetorician who advocated for equal educational opportunities for women in her literary works. Astell was revered, credited and often radicalized as one of England’s inaugural advocates for women’s rights.

She was an inspiration to Eloise.

Mary Astell also spent the rest of her life unmarried. She had no interest in love; believing that logic and rationality were her passions, above all in the fields of religion, constitutional reform, and the social contract on which she held startling, penetrating views.

Other female writers that motivated Eloise were some of the American women who pioneered the emergence of female newspaper correspondents.

Elizabeth Timothy, who was the first woman publisher wrote for the South Carolina Gazette in 1739 upon her husband’s death, Lewis Timothy.

American Mary Katherine Goddard was a printer and publisher who wrote for the Maryland Journal upon her brother’s absence from 1774-1783.

Truly, the Americas seemed to be progressing to the future whilst in England it felt as though society was regressing further and further back.

It was an absurd thought but…What if Eloise found herself in the Americas? Would she finally achieve what she had been looking for? On the land of the free?

Her eyes lingered on the newspaper shop for a while as the carriage chartered on until she spotted a series of clothing stores where she was meant to stop.

“Oh!” She squealed as she went to knock on the wooden door, “We may a stop right here! Here!” She informed her footmen.

The carriage made a swift turn to the left before making a stop. Eloise adjusted her turquoise lace shawl around her arms over her mint green dress as she waited for the carriage door to be flung open.

Footman John appeared by her door and reached for the knob before opening her door and extending his hand out to her.

Eloise took it and smiled up at him, “Thank you,” She spoke enthusiastically as she descended the step stool and hit the cobblestone ground.

“Miss Eloise, I would have never had pegged you as someone who would be aware of the existence of this part of the city,” He laughed.

“How is it surprising?”

He shrugged, “Perhaps, I should not be surprised.” He spoke, “Every day it is some new dangerous and risky adventure with you so it’s to be expected,”

Eloise rolled her eyes, “I am not a child anymore,” She reminded him. “And I pay you and Jack to be discreet do I not? And I shall handsomely reward your discretion if you continue to not ask any questions,” She warned.

Footman John snickered as he shared a look with the other footman, Jack who was rode the carriage.

“Very well, milady!” John replied. “How long will you be?”

“Not too long,” She informed him. “Perhaps an hour or two?”

Footman John was about to speak but she stopped him, “You may…Explore the area! Visit some pub or whatever it is you men do,” She ushered as she handed the footmen some of her pin money before gesturing them to go, “Now…Be gone!” 

She watched as her footmen disappeared along with the horse drawn carriage and then she inhaled a heavy breath before sauntering to one of the stores where she hopped to meet with her companions.

“Eloise!” She heard Gladys call out to her as soon as she entered through the leather store.

Eloise never quite realized how she owned very little leather clothing in her wardrobe. All her wardrobe has ever seen were tulle, petticoats, linen, cotton, organza, lace and silk.

Leather…Not so much. She would be lucky enough to find leather gloves in her drawers for the autumn or winter season.

Nonetheless, Eloise found leather to be quite fashionable herself.

She fashioned herself leather boots, much like the ones her brother’s wore, but for women. She wondered if there would ever come a day when fashion evolved to allow women to don leather.

Naomi squealed as she ran to hug Eloise, “You’ve found us!”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t difficult. I am capable to follow directions!” Eloise teased with a chuckle.

Naomi stuck her tongue out to her.

“What could we possibly be doing in a leather store?”

“To shop, of course,” Esmeralda stated, draping an arm around Eloise’s arm and leading the way. “And we are here in this fine establishment to seek out the most flawless ensemble for you,”

Eloise frowned, bemused, “For me?”

“Mhmm…” Gladys responded as they approached the shopkeeper who was a woman, “This is my good friend Mavis who owns this store with her dear husband, Bedford.” She introduced, gesturing to a woman who could not be older than middle-age with rich, dark skin.

“Mavis, this is our friend Miss Eloise Bridgerton who we told you about. She is in a dire need for a new wardrobe!” Esmeralda spoke.

“I am?”

The girls shushed her in unison.

Mavis laughed, “I see!” She spoke, smiling at Eloise. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Eloise!”

Eloise smiled, “Likewise. Forgive me—but could one of you explain to me what in the heavens is going on?”

Gladys laughed, “Do you recall our conversation several days ago when we brainstormed ideas on how to best inconspicuously flit you into university?”

Eloise scoffed, “Yes, but I thought we were just spouting fanatical gobbledygook together,”

“Well, I assure it was not hogwash! We were not waffling about any nonsense for our own amusement! We are determined to make that dream of yours a reality.” Naomi spoke.

Eloise’s brows creased; closing in even harder as her bemusement intensified, “How are we going to do that?”

“You are going to need a disguise…” Gladys stated, then motioned up and down, signaling her outfit. “And this, otherwise, stunningly fabulous, superbly tailored and refined, feminine lady style of dressing just will not do.”

“You need to become a gentleman!” Esmeralda confirmed.

Eloise’s eyes bulged, “A gentleman?”

Subsequently, Mavis reappeared from vanishing into a different room, bringing with her a pair of fine, masculine, well-polished, heeled mahogany-brown leather boots.

“Welcome to your transfiguration ceremony,” The women all spoke in one accord.

Eloise’s mouth agape in a wide gaping hole, expecting words to come out and yet struggling to articulate even a string of sentences or words.

All she could do was gasp.

… …

After the women shopped various articles of clothing and cosmetics designed to completely alter the appearance of a person, they journeyed their way out of their final stop and prepared to leave for Kensington.

“Splendid!” Gladys remarked, carrying several bags. “We will meet you at Kensington, I suppose?”

Eloise nodded, “Did you arrive in a carriage?”

The women giggled, “Working women, particularly, servants, cooks and laundresses like us are not afforded the luxury of carriages,”

Eloise pursed her bottom lip and frowned, “Why? Are you planning to walk back to Kensington?”

They shrugged their shoulders.

Eloise sighed, biting her bottom lip in thought before shaking her head, “Nonsense! You are coming with me!” She stated, ushering them to follow her as she trotted along to her carriage.

“Will we all be able to fit in your carriage? I am not the smallest of ladies,” Esmeralda reminded her.

Esmeralda held a very lovely curvy figure that would be the envy of many women in the ton so the notion that she would not fit in the carriage was ludicrous.

“Ridiculous! Of course we all can! I am a Bridgerton after all,” Eloise uttered, glancing back at them to give them a wink. “We will have more than enough space,”

The women shared a look and smiled, “Very well,” Gladys answered.

When the ladies reached the carriage, Footman John appeared and took his usual stance by the door, looking ahead into the horizon as he always did.

“Miss Bridgerton,” He acknowledged with a bow of the head before dropping his shoulders and moving more comfortably and casually as he looked down at her, “What do you have there, miss?” He asked as he went to collect the bags she was carrying but she quickly flinched away.

“Nothing…” She replied with a smirk.

Footman John gave her a strange look, “Hmm…Very well!” He cleared his throat, realizing it would serve him well to ignore it.

“We are heading to Kensington,” Eloise said with a sigh. “So…Would you take us there?”

“We?” He frowned as he finally acknowledged the other women.

As his eyes landed onto the lovely Venezuelan beauty, Esmeralda, he was suddenly overcome by a lack of breath. He was positively left speechless and entranced by her enchanting smile and facial features; so much so Eloise could notice a spot of drool beginning to form at the corner of his mouth.

It was an amusing sight.

“Oh,” He gasped out in a low whisper, only Eloise was able to hear.

Eloise furrowed her brows, “Footman John?”

The footman stood there in pure awe for a few more seconds before shaking his head, snapping back to reality and clearing his throat, “Forgive me, Miss Eloise. Right away!” He spoke before reaching for the door, flinging it open.

Eloise smirked, “Thank you!” She said, turning to her friends. “You may hop in, ladies!” She giggled as she climbed up the step stool and jumped into the carriage.

The other woman soon followed suit, “Hello!” Gladys greeted the footmen, “Hello!” Naomi greeted with a cheery smile as she followed her older sister.

Footman John was now able to fully lock eyes with Esmeralda as she sauntered close to him, “Good day, ma’am.” He expressed with a bated gasp, causing her to giggle.

Her cheeks burned a slight reddish color, “Afternoon, kind sir.” She bowed her head.

He smirked crookedly, “Oh! Let me assist you with those bags.” He said, reaching for her baggage.

Just then, their hands touched and a jolt of a spark from the sudden brush caused them both to deepen their gaze upon each other.

Esmeralda was the first to initiate the departure as she looked down to watch her step as she entered the carriage and took her seat.

“Thank you again for your generous gallantry,” She spoke to him as she took her bags, acknowledging the chivalrous man.

“You’re always welcome,” He grinned, bowing his head before shutting the door.

The women in the carriage all gave her a puzzled yet intrigued and humorous look.

Esmeralda’s blush deepened as she shrugged, “What is it?”

“Nothing!”

Kensington

“How are we to make this work?” Eloise asked apprehensively as she sat on a chair in front of the dresser, staring at herself in the mirror as she was being deconstructed and defeminized. “How are we sure this charade is even going to succeed in the first place? What if I get caught? What shall I do then? I could go to prison!” She nervously rambled as she inhaled and exhaled; panting heavily.

“Sit still!” Esmeralda warned as she applied a particular type of oil on her face, “Trust us! This will work!”

“You need to remain calm.” Naomi spoke, arranging the outfit Eloise would wear.

“How am I supposed to remain calm when I may very well be committing a felony?!”

“Do you not desire to have a university education?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do you not wish to gain the necessary skills to potentially hold a vocation some day?”

“I do, but—”

“Do you not wish to stray from the herd and live your life in an unconventional manner?”

“Yes, but—”

“Do you not desire freedom?”

“I do!”

“Then what is the dilemma, my dear?” Gladys asked with a smile.

Eloise frowned, pouting her bottom lip, “I suppose there isn’t any, but, I am terrified! I have not done anything like this before.”

“I thought you are known to have a rebellious spirit,”

“That is true, but I am also not mad!” Eloise stated, “At least I have not fully gone mad yet…” This, however, was bordering on lunacy!

“This will succeed, I assure you.” Gladys rested her hands comfortably on her shoulders. “This will be a trial run. You do not have to commit to it.”

Eloise exhaled a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s fortunate!”

“However, you will still have to do it.” She added. “Esmeralda is talented at what she does. She will make you completely unrecognizable!”

Eloise smiled nervously, “Will you be joining me? As my support system?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“The reason we are not partaking in this adventure with you is because this is your dream. Your wish that we desire for you to see fulfilled.” Gladys explained.

“Do you not desire an education?” Eloise probed. “Naomi! What happened to your lifelong aspirations of one day becoming an educator?”

Naomi looked down briefly, her smile dropping slightly, before raising her head back up and plastering a small, yet forged smile, “Never you mind about me! You are in a unique position where you can be able to do this. My sister, Esmeralda and I have occupations to look after. You…You can start your life right now!”

“Why me though? Why me and not you?” Eloise reiterated.

“Because it’s like we said when we discussed this days ago…you have nothing left to lose…” Gladys answered.

Eloise sighed as she sank in her chair and groaned before laughing, “This is ludicrous!”

“Albeit exciting, I hope!”

Eloise gnawed on her bottom lip as a slight curve of the lip signaled that she did indeed find it thrilling, “Nerve-racking but exciting indeed!”

The women giggled.

“So, how exactly are we going to do this?”

“We will dress you up in the fashions of the men of today! Disguise you with short-haired perukes and hide your feminine, beauty with masculine features,” Esmeralda stated.

“You would appear as an androgynous man, to be sure. But it will be believable!”

Eloise nodded, “Very well. And after that?”

“Well…What do you mean?”

“How am I going to appear to be a gentleman if I do not know a single thing about acting as one?” Eloise probed.

The girls all shared a look with one another, clearly not thinking the course of action all the way through in precise detail.

How were they going to navigate the minutiae of behaving like one of the gentlemen enrolled in university? Eloise had some vague idea of what being a gentlemen entailed from watching her brother’s behave, however, surely she would need to know some jargon? Some way of speaking that only men do?

“Wait here! I shall return shortly.” Gladys informed before leaving the room.

Shortly, she returned with Reginald, the household’s personal butler and an evident admirer of Gladys who would agree with anything she requested of him.

“We need assistance in helping our dear friend behave like a gentleman?” Gladys began after explaining to him the plan. “Could you provide some pearls of manly wisdom?”

Reginald was unsure for a moment as he looked at all of the women in the room as if they were insane, although, one glance at Gladys led him to fold instantly.

“Very well…” He sighed. The women squealed. “I will do my best.”

Eloise inhaled a shaky breath.

St. John’s College

April 12^th, 1821

Gladys was right!

They were magicians!

They completely altered Eloise’s look to the point that she was able to walk onto the grounds of the college near Oxford the next day, undetected, unassumingly and discreetly.

Nobody assumed she was a woman dressed as a man.

It certainly helped that she followed the lessons Reginald taught her about how to walk, talk and conduct oneself like a gentleman.

She hoped she would succeed until the end of the day.

It was strange…

Dressing in gentleman garb –decked out in a navy tailcoat, floral embroidered teal waistcoat, creamy-pastel linen breeches and thick, mahogany brown leather boots – felt strange and foreign to Eloise.

She had never, in a million years, imagined she would ever don breeches, let alone ones that her brothers would wear.

When she looked at herself in the mirror this morning and saw a completely different person, she was shocked to say the least. 

Eloise arrived at Kensington before dawn –after managing to sneak out of the house without anyone noticing and she traveled back to Kensington where she met up with the women and readied for the day’s adventure. The mission was set and she was determined to see it through.

There was no backing down now.

Nevertheless, when she first wore the clothes this morning, she discovered something…

She realized just how comfortable men’s clothing was.

She did not have to don a stay, or wear layers upon layers of undergarments. She could simply slip on a pair of breeches and boots and she was all set to go.

Oh, how she wished there were breeches for women!

Rather, she wished it was socially acceptable for women to wear breeches or trousers.

In any case, that was not the main issue at hand.

She was finally going to attend a lecture at a university! A dream she never thought possible!

In actuality, she was attending a college, not a university although she could have picked worse colleges. St. John’s College was still a well-respected and highly regarded institution, but due to its smaller quantity of enrolled students as opposed to Oxford or Cambridge, it made it a likely candidate to test out this new undercover mission.

Eloise would be attending the school under the pseudonym “Elliot Bosworth”. That sounded like a reasonable match.

Upon looking at herself in the mirror this morning, Eloise realized just how much she looked like her father and her older brother Benedict. Hopefully nobody would assume she was a Bridgerton –although, they wouldn’t assume a notorious Bridgerton would come out looking like a pubescent boy.

Oh…She was not imposing at all.

Surely, someone would notice she was a female!

All the men attending the university were several sizes and heights bigger and taller than she ever was.

Maybe she can come up with a story…

She had a physical ailment or disability that stunted her grown?

Yes! That would be the story!

Eloise gnawed on her nails as she looked for the English classroom, holding the books against her chest in nerves.

Subsequently, she dropped her hand and loosened her grip on the books on her chest when she realized that she was acting a bit too feminine as she should be.

Eloise cleared her throat in a hoarse, croaky manner and spread her legs apart slightly as she walked; puffing up her chest and nodding at the men she walked passed.

“Morning, my lord,” She bobbed her head as she spoke, attempting a deep, husky voice –although she was sure it came out as a mortifying cry.

Thankfully, the male students did not seem to notice –or much care.

She finally found her lecture classroom and grinned as she walked in and took her place at the very back of the class in the corner where she surely would not be noticed.

“Ahem!” She cleared her throat and coughed. “Good day!” She tipped her imaginary head at her seat neighbor.

The blonde, young man with blue eyes stared at her with a frown but smiled as he extended his hand out to her, “Hello! The name’s Francis Ainsworth! You must be new! What’s your name?”

“Elliot Brid—Bosworth!” She quickly corrected herself.

“Elliot Bosworth. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He answered. “Are you a newly enrolled or did you exchange fields?”

Eloise did not trust that her verbal answer would be sufficient so she simply nodded her head.

Francis Ainsworth chuckled, “In that case, welcome to English Literature!”

She grinned back before manly shaking his hand.

“Morning, class!” The distinguished professor sighed as he entered the room, carrying his briefcase. “

“Morning, Mr. Fitzpatrick!” The class of men all spoke in unison.

Eloise grinned.

This was marvelous!

Kensington

Eloise returned to Kensington with positive elation and glee plastered on her face as she recalled all the events of the day with her friends.

“…The lessons were so enthralling and mentally enriching!” She ranted, as Esmeralda removed the articles of clothing and the cosmetics off her face. “English language and literature were separated into different lectures! There was a philosophy lecture I was surprised I enjoyed. I did not enjoy mathematics that much so I will most likely omit those lessons from my itinerary moving forward. History was also riveting—”

“So, I take it today exceeded your expectations?” Gladys asked.

“Definitely! I could not imagine a more wonderful way to spend the day.” She spoke. “Argh! That was so fantastic! I mean—still terrifying! Completely terrifying but…Sort of sensational! I am so eager to know more!”

“Ha!” Gladys giggled, “See! We told you!” She stated as she removed the peruke wig off her head.

Eloise grinned widely. 

“Well, since you had such a glorious day! We should celebrate.” Naomi shot up from her seat on the bed. “Tonight! At the Paddington Assembly Ball!”

“Assembly Ball?”

Eloise had no idea members of working classes hosted their own balls.

“Yes, you shan’t have thought the upper class members of high society were the only ones who enjoyed a dance or two, did you?” Gladys mocked.

“Indeed! The peasants deserved to have a little merriment too,” Esmeralda joined in.

Eloise sighed, hanging her head down in slight humiliation. Of course! She did not mean to imply that they did not partake in fun activities.

“Of course,” Eloise laughed. “I am just surprised, that is all.”

“Well, you will find that our balls are a lot more fun and less stuffy!” Gladys spoke.

Eloise cocked an eyebrow, “Now I am intrigued…”

Paddington

Eloise accompanied her fellow gentlewomen to the Paddington Assembly Ball later that evening, alongside Reginald who acted as their escort.

This was the first ball Eloise attended that was not a garishly pretentious, ostentatious society ball.

As Eloise entered the doors of the assembly ball, she was firmly aware just how different the two were. They were polar opposites of each other.

The assembly ball was lively, energetic; filled with chatter and laughter from the cluster of people in the assemblage. The ball was relaxed; there was barely any decorative settings, the atmosphere was positively phlegmatic yet robust with a vigorous energy that Eloise felt regular society balls severely lacked.

Instead of a quadrille, Eloise witnessed the entire room joining together to perform the Standard English Country Dance, with upbeat and bouncy music played by the violin orchestra –if one could even call it that.

The ball was full of beans! Most music at society functions were often unexciting but the music here was far from lethargic to be sure. It was evident on the animated facial expressions of everyone in the room that they were enjoying it.

Eloise couldn’t help but gasp, grinning in awe.

“Public balls are much pleasanter than private society balls,” Gladys stated.

“I’ll say,” Eloise spoke, laughing as a couple appeared out of the blue, spinning in a dance.

“Our apologies, Miss!” The wife giggled as she laughed along with her husband as he spun her around in a fast motion.

Eloise laughed in delight, "Is it always like this?”

Gladys nodded, “Mhmm,”

“How many balls does the Paddington Assembly Hall host every year? And who hosts them?”

“Six,” Reginald answered, “Every two months the community pitches in to host a ball at the end of the month,” He added.

Eloise smiled, “Wow,”

“A far cry from the Queen’s ball, to be sure.” Esmeralda laughed. “Most of the people who attend these balls are regular working folk who came off a long, hard day of work and seek to engage in conversation, laughter, and dance to unwind.”

“Should I even be here? I am not a worker nor did I pitch in to organize the event!”

“Bunkum!” Gladys wrapped an arm around her, “You are just as much of a member of the community as the next person,”

“You are an honorary member,” Naomi added.

Eloise smiled, “Oh! Are those lilies? I must say, I love the simplicity of the floral display. It’s not outlandish!”

“Hmm, I see the botanist male friend you have been corresponding with has been rubbing some of his infatuation with nature onto you,” Naomi teased with a giggle.

Eloise glared at her, “What?!”

Naomi giggled, “You cannot deny it!”

“Oh, leave the poor girl! We ought to all spare our energies onto the dancefloor!” Esmeralda excited urged her friends to join her.

“I agree!” Naomi squealed,

“Well, then, you two should go right along!” Eloise stated.

“Fine then,” Naomi rolled her eyes as she went to take Esmeralda’s hand and the two giggled as they led each other to the dancefloor to join in on the bubbly, vivacious country dance.

“Are you sure you do not—” Reginald began as he turned to look at Gladys before he was interrupted by Esmeralda returning to snatch his hand.

“Come along, Reginald!” Esmeralda giggled as she pulled him to the floor.

Gladys chuckled as she then turned to Eloise and gestured for them to take their seats along with the spectators who observed the dance.

Eloise couldn’t help but notice Reginald sneaking quiet, quick glances over to their side in the midst of the dance, particularly keeping his eyes centered on Gladys who seemed oblivious to the attention on her.

“You really ought to take to the dancefloor, Gladys. Might not know what you are missing out on,” Eloise spoke with a raised voice amidst the loud, boisterous song and scuttlebutt chatter.

“I do not dance, Eloise.” Gladys answered, “I would much rather be a bystander,”

“Or a wallflower?” She teased, using the nickname her friend Penelope previously afforded herself when they were younger.

“No—Not a wallflower! A wallflower does not have a choice in the matter but I do. I am a joll to be around.” Gladys stated, clapping her hands along with the spectators to the beat of the song.

“Yes, you are certainly enthuzimuzzy!” Eloise giggled as she mocked her.

Gladys rolled her eyes, “What about you? And why are you not taking to the dancefloor?”

“I would like to,” Eloise responded, “Just not at this very moment…”

Eloise was not much of a dancer herself, but it seemed like great fun to be dancing in this type of environment. A tempting prospect indeed. 

“I certainly hope you have not caught the morbs after such an eventful day,” Gladys spoke.

Eloise smiled, “No, do not worry. I am happy! I am just…savoring this moment.”

“Mmm…” Gladys hummed. “Have you spoken to the botanist since your last correspondence? Did you respond to him?”

Eloise inhaled a sigh, “Yes, I did.”

“And did he respond?”

Eloise shook her head, “No he did not. You know, he does have a life. As do I? We both aren’t sitting at our desks eagerly awaiting for the other to respond,” She spoke.

“Could have fooled me,”

Eloise shook her head, “It is like I said before, I have no interest in men. This correspondence is merely a friendship to pass the time and it will soon fade into obscurity when the shoe inevitably drops!”

“And that would be?”

“When he obviously shows himself to be just like any other man. Impotent minded. Unyielding. Controlling. Disappointing. And entirely unsatisfactory.” She laughed, although she was playing it up a lot admittedly.

She did not believe Sir Phillip was any of those characteristics, however, she was too smart not to let first impressions get to her head. She was a fairly good judge of a character and she would not be surprised if he ended up being just like the rest of the men in the ton.

Also, after her last letter, she was convinced her "radical" rambling and "extreme" views scared him off like it usually did to many men. 

“Not all men are bad,” Gladys spoke, smiling as she looked at the crowd of dancing folk.

“Humorless poppycocks with no thought in their heads besides engaging in tedious conversations where they may boast about their possessions,”

“You are right about that,” Gladys sighed, “But there are a few good eggs,”

Eloise laughed, “Name one?”

Gladys smirked as she purposely fell silent, not taking her eyes away from the crowd.

“Precisely my point!”

“You judge too quickly,” Gladys spoke.

“A lot of the pot calling the kettle black, I see.” Eloise laughed, cocking an eyebrow as she nudged her friend.

Gladys frowned, “What?”

“You pass judgments on men all the time, Gladys!” Eloise stated, “You have spent so long unaware that Reginald has had feelings for you!”

“Who said I was unaware?” Gladys spoke, keeping her eyes firmly transfixed on the crowd.

Eloise followed her gaze until her eyes landed on Reginald who was grinning as she danced with Naomi.

Eloise gasped, “You have feelings for him?”

“What?” Gladys quickly snapped, darting her head towards her. “No! That’s untrue! That’s preposterous! W-why would you even suggest—”

“My God!” Eloise laughed, “You have been sharing the same feelings for him this whole time, haven’t you?”

There was no point in denying it anymore.

Consequently, Reginald ran over to the two women as soon as the country dance ended and shifted into a couples dance, a charming grin plastered all over his face as he locked eyes with Gladys.

“Gladys, you ought to take to the dancefloor! Naomi sent me over to collect you because she wants you to experience the lively energy out there and I am inclined to agree with her. So, what do you say?” He posed, extending his hand out to her with hopeful eyes.

Gladys looked at him then back at Eloise who flashed an encouraging grin.

“Very well,” Gladys cleared her throat as she placed her hand in his, “And when I come back we will have a drink, alright?”

Eloise nodded.

She watched the couple grin and laugh together as they swayed with great energy, moving with the beat of the music; their eyes firmly locked with one another.

In that moment, Eloise realized…

Another independent, self-assured woman who she swore would remain unmarried, another woman who did not need a man to be fulfilled and happy, another woman who she thought shared the same ideologies as her in regards to love and marriage; stare at a man in a manner she only recalled ever seeing in her siblings with their spouses, the romantic mien reminiscent of those she read in romance novels.

A look of intense love and adornment.

A look she has never related to.

A look she could never relate to.

A look she would never relate to.

Kensington

Eloise returned home after an exhilarating with the other three rather, inebriated women. Gladys being the one who was most sloshed among the quartette of women.

“Oh…” Esmeralda groaned as she clutched her forehead, “I have never been so intoxicated in my life. I am never drinking in that manner again,”

“Gladys is firmly three sheets to the wind, right now,” Eloise remarked as she entered the apartment. “I think you shall fare much better,”

Subsequently, a low grumble escaped the lips of a dazed Gladys who was being carried bridal style into the apartment by the butler Reginald who kindly escorted them to and fro the party.

“What time is it?” Gladys spoke in a low, incoherent manner of speech.

“It’s time for bed,” Eloise laughed as she burned the candle on and lead them to Gladys’ room.

Reginald laid her into the bed and slipped her under the covers of her bed; tucking her in as ever the gentleman would.

“Thank you,” Eloise said to him.

“Pleasure,” He said, smiling as he looked down at the sleeping woman; stroking her soft hair. “You will keep a watchful eye on her?”

Eloise smiled, nodding her head. “I will,”

“Don’t go!” Gladys moaned in a groggy voice as she clutched on his hand. “E-Eloise…Where are you?” she spoke, incoherently with slurred speech as she attempted to bat her eyes open.

“I’m here!” Eloise laughed.

“Make sure Reggie does not leave,”

Eloise giggled, “But he would like to go to bed as well,”

“Well…” Gladys pouted, “Will you stay with me then?”

“Sure,” Eloise chuckled, rolling her eyes as she looked over in Reginald’s direction. “You may go, I’ll keep her occupied.”

He sighed, nodding his head as he bent down to plant a kiss on her head, “Goodnight, Gladdy.” He spoke before leaving the room.

“Mmm….Could you curtail the brightness of the candlelight? It’s too bright!” Gladys spoke.

Eloise laughed as she went to move the candle on her bedside table elsewhere, “Hopefully you do not trounce around in your sleep and burn the apartment down in our sleep,”

“Hmm…” Gladys hummed. “May I ask you something?”

Eloise took a seat on Gladys’ bedside, “Yes?”

“Do you really believe Reginald is in love with me, Eloise?”

“I do,” Eloise answered. “The way he danced with you most of the night and stared at you for the rest of it. The way he gallantly brought you back home and tucked you in bed tonight, how could he not?”

Her cheeks flushed as her eyes began closing, “I think I love him too,”

Eloise smiled, “I know,”

“Is that strange?”

Did Eloise find it strange?

She did not know.

“I do not think so,” She stated. “Although, I do give you leave to love him. You could’ve fallen for many a imprudent person so Reginald will do,”

Gladys giggled, which in turn, caused Eloise to laugh. “Now you’re a great deal too apt to like people in general, mind you. But….I am happy for you,”

Gladys coughed, “As an outsider, what is your view on intelligence?” She joked.

Eloise gasped, laying a soft, playful punch on her which ignited a gurgle of laughter from Gladys that soon evolved into a yawn.

“Get some sleep,” Eloise said to her.

“Night!”

Eloise sighed as she watched her friend doze off into somnolence.

Eloise was still vividly awake though, and slightly less intoxicated than the rest of the members of the tenement. Her brother would probably wonder where she was.

She would need to concoct a story, perhaps that she slept over at the Featheringtons or their mother’s for the night.

Although, The Featheringtons would be much more believable. And Penelope would certainly corroborate her alibi.

But then again, she wondered if her brother would care that she was not home. She was an adult after all.

What a day she had.

She wished there was someone in her world she could speak to about the events of today; someone who would understand just how meaningful today was to her.

But nobody would fully understand…

No one except Penelope — who was preoccupied with her own life as a wife and mother.

The only person she could think of was…

Sir Phillip.

A bright, wide smile emerged on her lips as she thought of him.

She may have written to him mere days ago; and she was still awaiting a response from that letter but she could not contain it in anymore. She had to put her excitement into written word.

So, Eloise eagerly pulled up a chair and sat by the desk; snatched the nearest quill and paper and began writing about her epic, great adventure –not in great detail though as it would be wise to keep the more scandalous bits of her experience at the college to herself– but conveying just the right amount of information that she wished would reach the intended recipient.

Dear Sir Phillip…

Chapter Text

Loving can heal
Loving can mend your soul
And it's the only thing that I know (know)
I swear it will get easier
Remember that with every piece of ya
And it's the only thing we take with us when we die

We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts were never broken
Times forever frozen still

So you can keep me
Inside the pocket
Of your ripped jeans
Holding me closer
'Til our eyes meet
You won't ever be alone

And if you hurt me
That's OK, baby, only words bleed
Inside these pages you just hold me
And I won't ever let you go

Wait for me to come home

Photograph – Ed Sheeran (string quartet/cello orchestra)

CHAPTER 8

April 12^th, 1821

Phillip returned from the greenhouse after tending to his garden all morning and medicating a decaying plant for a neighbor. 

Now that his outside work was completed, he would now resume his clerical work in his office study; to tend to the estate accounts. 

As he strolled along the corridor of his house; he could hear the voices of his children taking part in one of their lessons with Nurse Millsby in the room that he turned into a classroom for the children to be educated; coming fully equipped with desks and chairs and a large black chalkboard that he had installed into the walls.

He valued his children’s education; he endeavored to make their schooling his top priority.

Although it’s proven to be quite difficult over the years to secure a governess for the children who would shoulder the responsibility of teaching them and nurturing them in the way they should walk, talk and act in the world because the children have managed to chase away every last one of their governesses in some shape or form.

Delinquents, the two of them were!

Phillip needed to find a governess who would be able to withstand all the pressures that came with raising and educating the high-energy, rambunctious, and hell-raising, at times mischievous twins Oliver and Amanda. A governess who wasn’t easily intimidated by the challenging children. A governess who would be able to chart the course and provide them with the necessary proper guidance they needed.

It only made sense to go back to someone he knew best; someone who he trusted and someone who would provide them with the love and discipline he received when he was a child. He enlisted the assistance of Mrs. Millsby less than a year ago; choosing to hire her immediately after the last governess/child nurse left her post.

Nurse Millsby may have been approaching her seventies, being nearly nine and sixty, but she was practical, caring, understandable, firm yet nurturing.

Nurse Millsby was Phillip and his older brother, George’s nurse and governess when they were children. She was their governess since they were toddlers until they reached the age where they could be able to attend boarding school. She was very instrumental in their upbringing and education.

He remembers when he and his older brother got into mischief from time to time and drove her to the edge of insanity; yet she never wavered and continued to train them in the right course. She whipped both boys into shape.

George might have been a little bit more naughty than Phillip ever was though (Oliver reminded Phillip of him in that way), and although Phillip was easily influenced by him sometimes (Amanda was a lot like him in that regard), he was still mostly a well-behaved child; and that was because of Mrs. Millsby.

However, Phillip knew Nurse Millsby would be working for the family on a temporary basis, until he found an adequate replacement for the children when the time was right. She was currently on a two year trial period before she retired at seventy.

Therefore, that gave Phillip only a year to find someone new. 

“All right! Now…” Mrs. Millsby began, “We will be reading a new novel for today entitled The Swiss Family Robinson by author Johann Wyss…” She stated, speaking in a soft, syrupy, and high motherly, or rather grandmotherly, tone of voice as she pulled out a book.

Oliver complained as he hung his head down, banging it onto the desk, “Another book, Nurse Millsby?! Have we not suffered through enough?”

Phillip chuckled softly, shaking his head at the little boy —receiving memories of his older brother who also detested the very idea of reading.

Oliver even scrunched his nose and pouted his bottom lip in a similar state of annoyance as George did many years ago.

“Now, Master Oliver Crane, if you do not read you shall not excel and improve your speech!” Nurse Millsby reminded, “Now huddle up around me! Come! Come!” She ushered.

Amanda beamed as she shot up from her seat, grabbing her chair and eagerly running over to her side. Amanda was an avid reader. She loved to read and was incredibly good at it.

Oliver begrudgingly stood up, pouting his lip and muttering some frustrations, as he dragged his chair along with him as he unhurriedly meandered his way to Mrs. Millsby’s side.

Mrs. Millsby handed the book over to Amanda after opening to the first page, “Miss Amanda, you may begin reading the first paragraph of the first chapter for us.”

Amanda grinned widely, although she sheepishly blushed as she shyly took the book after much encouragement from Nurse Millsby.

She sat up in a straight position and planted her index finger on the page to follow along as she read, “FOR MANY days we had been tempest-tossed. Six times had the darkness closed over a wild and terrific scene, and returning light as often brought but renewed distress, for the raging storm increased in fury until on the seventh day all hope was lost...” The little girl read in the most eloquent, coherent and beautifully executed manner; the words flowing effortlessly out of her lips.

Amanda may have been shy around a lot of people, but she came alive whenever she was around people she felt most comfortable with.

“Magnificently done, my dear.” Nurse Millsby commended with a smile. “You remembered to pause between punctuations this time as well. Keep up the brilliant work,”

Amanda grinned, nodding her head as she handed the book to her brother.

Nurse Millsby cleared her throat, “Now! Master Oliver, you may read the proceeding passage.”

Oliver looked at her with terror-filled eyes as he reluctantly took the book and implanted his index finger on the page to follow along.

Clearing his throat, he then proceeded to read, “We were d-driven…c-c-com—” He struggled, stumbling on the word and glancing over to the nurse for help.

“Completely,” She answered.

Oliver sighed, “…completely out of c-course, no c-c-conje—” He paused as he frowned at the word.

“Conjecture!” Amanda quickly corrected with a soft, amused chuckle.

Oliver glared at her with a deep frown, “Stop it, Amanda!”

Amanda rolled her eyes, “I was only helping, brother!”

“No! You were not helping! You were making fun of me!”

“I did not!”

“Did too!”

“Shush now! Both of you!” Mrs. Millsby scolded, glaring at both of the twins before darting her eyes over to Oliver, “Start from the beginning,”

Oliver grumbled in a quiet moan before glance back down onto the page, “…We were driven completely…out of the—our course, no conjecture could be f-formed as to our where-a-abouts. The crew had lost heart and…were utterly ex-exhausted…by i-i-incess…incessant labor.” He finally finished the passage.

Nurse Millsby smiled, “Well done! It was an improvement from the last reading, however, you need to pay close attention to the hard words and avoid inserting words that are not on the page. Read precisely what is on the page.”

Oliver sighed as he handed the book back to her and crossed his arms, feeling disappointed in himself as his cheeks burned a deep red, signifying his shame.

Phillip couldn’t help but be overcome with sympathy at the boy. Unlike his sister who excelled in school, Oliver had a more difficult time navigating a large portion of the schoolwork. He was not a natural-born scholar; he did not have a particular knack for school but Phillip was confident with proper teaching and guidance he would soon excel in his learning. He merely needed an extra push.

“Father!” Amanda exclaimed as soon as she spotted him standing by the door; and immediately leaped off the chair and charged for him.

Phillip half-groaned and half-chuckled at the rapid impact of her body colliding into him; with her wrapping her arms around his waist as she laid her head against his stomach.

“Hello, Amanda!” He remarked, stroking her curly haired head gently.

Thereafter, Phillip watched as his son hoisted himself off the chair and came charging towards him and lunging onto him in a tight embrace from the side –clearly not one to allow his sister to experience all the fun of assaulting their father with hugs.

Phillip may not have been the most affectionate sort, but then again, that did not matter in this moment. His children seemed thrilled to see him and that gave him joy to know that he was able to evoke that emotion in them.

“Please, father! Take me away from here?” Young Oliver pleaded with him as he tightened his grip around Phillip’s waist as he looked up at him. “I do not like school!”

Phillip chuckled, “Come now, Oliver! School is important for both of your collective futures in society,” He mentioned to them with a smile as he stroked both of their heads.

“But you hate society, father!” Oliver smartly countered.

Phillip fell silent for a brief moment.

Well…The child was not wrong.

“I have my opinions about it but I do not abhor all of society…” He tried to explain to him. “There are advantages to education that shall assist you in finding the career you are most passionate in,” He added.

Amanda smiled brightly, “Similar to you as a plant doctor?”

Phillip chuckled, rolling his eyes, “Not exactly. I do not desire you two to be like me. I only wish for you to be whatever you want to be,”

Oliver and Amanda glanced at each other with big, wide grins, “I want to become a ballerina!” Amanda spoke.

Phillip nodded with a smile, “Splendid! You would make a beautiful ballerina, I am sure of it.” He stated, tickling her tiny stomach, causing her to giggle and shy away from him.

Oliver thought for a second before spouting out, “I—I want to be a soldier!”

Phillip’s smile dropped in ‘the moment he uttered the word ‘soldier’. He immediately got memories to the day his brother George told him he would be joining the war and how shattered Phillip was that day.

The children do not know much about George; only that he was Phillip’s older brother who passed away before they were born.

He thought it would be best for them to spend the rest of their lives knowing that he was their deceased uncle and not their biological father.

The children would not be emotionally capable of comprehending the magnitude of such information and it would simply be too cruel to break their heart yet again by revealing that their birth parents were both not alive to watch them grow.

No.

It was better that they were protected from the heart ache of knowing that both of their parents were not in their lives, but moreover, the children were Phillip’s. They were his. He was their father. He was the only father they ever knew.

And right now, he was all they had.

Phillip managed to form a small smile, “T-that is fantastic, Oliver.” He told his son and then cleared his throat, “Go on along! I do not wish for you to miss out on your lessons with Mrs. Millsby!”

Oliver grumbled in a moan as he spun around and dragged his feet, whilst Amanda giggled as she skipped over to her seat. Phillip looked up to give Nurse Millsby a nod before leaving the room.

As he walked to his office, he was suddenly stopped by his secretary Miles Carter, “Sir Phillip? Might I have a word with you?”

Phillip halted in his tracks as Miles appeared from the corridor, “What is it, Mr. Carter? Is it serious? Have the children caused anyone blushes with their silly pranks this morning?”

Miles Carter chuckled, shaking his head, “Not today, sir.”

Phillip sighed in relief, “That’s good. Well…If that’s the case then I ought to get back to work,”

“This shall only take a moment, sir.” Mr. Carter quickly spoke.

Phillip frowned, “Yes?”

“Forgive me if I overstep but I know you have made it known you do not plan to take a wife any time soon however, solicitors have informed me that the late Lady Crane’s father has been attempting to poke the needle into our funds.” He explained.

Phillip furrowed his brows, “I do not understand,”

“Marina’s father believes, as the father of the Lady Crane and grandfather of the future baronet, he ought to have claim over part of the estate’s capital.”

“That is the most ludicrous thing I have ever heard. What makes him think he has any right to part of the estate?” Phillip scoffed at the mere suggestion.

“He believes it is the duty of the widower to take care of the lady of the household’s parents in the case of death.”

“He cannot possibly demand such! That is preposterous! The man did not give a fig about Marina when she was alive. He happily married her off to me, without even offering a dowry—not that I needed one— and left her off to fend for herself; effectively abandoning her when she was with child. He does not even know his grandchildren’s names because he did not bother to desire to know them. He could not even bother showing up to his own daughter’s funeral and yet he demands money from me? He expects me to look after him?” Phillip spoke with agitation in the tone of his voice; his blood was evidently boiling as his eyes flared.

“I shared your same odium of distaste and disgust when I first spoke to the solicitor but he informed me that many such cases exist in families I am afraid.” He stated. “That is one of the many reasons why widowers often remarry instantly after the death of a spouse to avoid this from happening,”

“Who does he think he is?” Phillip questioned rhetorically, “No! I will not cower to the foolish and frankly ridiculous demands of a deadbeat, saphead, lowlife-yokel, tuftunter, old codger. He can bugger off for all I care!” Phillip snarled as he walked into his office with his secretary following closely behind.

“It would have easy to have done so if it wasn’t for the fact that he has since threatened to reveal the truth of the twin’s parentage if he did not get his way to the courts,” The secretary stated.

Phillip glared at him as he took a seat on his chair, “Extortion?”

Mr. Carter nodded.

“How much is he asking for?”

“Forty-five hundred pounds a year,”

Four thousand and five hundred pounds?! Was he mental? Phillip thought to himself.

Phillip frustratingly lowered his head into his hands as he gripped onto his hair, threatening to pull them before resorting to threading his fingers through them and then sighing in deep exasperation.

Phillip shook his head, “Can we not find some way to circumvent this? If we cannot ignore him, surely we can find laws to counter his absurd demands? Or…Should we involve my barrister to contest this in court?”

“We can proceed with litigation I suppose but I do not think it would reflect well on the estate or on you if he does end up revealing the truth about the twins” He stated. “And if the truth ever came out, it would threaten the legitimacy of the succession of the baronetcy and the estate,”

Phillip nodded. He knew all that.

“It’s his word against mine as the legal guardian of the twins,” Phillip answered. “I am their father in all aspects of the word. He did not care about Marina or the children…So who would the courts possibly believe? The children’s legal father or an old lunatic?”

Miles Carter did not reply.

Phillip sighed, “Perhaps, we can reason with him?” He suggested, but even he could not like convincingly even to himself to believe that they could.

“The only other solution is to remarry at some point. That way he would have no grounds to demand from Lady Crane if there was an entirely new Lady Crane of the household. That is a legal loophole you can use to hinder him from pursuing any litigation against the estate,” He stated,

Phillip sighed, “I do not think I am ready for marriage again, Mr. Carter. I told myself if I ever remarry it had to be someone…”

“You love?”

Phillip looked up at him, “I—I cannot be in another miserable marriage of convenience,” He stated.

“The children do need a mother, sire.”

“I know!” Phillip shouted. He sighed as he glanced down at his stack of papers. “I know they need a motherly figure in their lives but I do not think it’s as simple as finding a random stranger to wed? Nurse Millsby has been a wonderful figure in their lives…” He trailed off.

“She is not going to be around for much longer, I do hope you realize that.”

Phillip sighed, sinking in his chair, “Yes! I realize that. Thank you, Mr. Carter. I am working on finding a replacement for her post before she leaves,”

Miles Carter was quiet for a short while before uttering a quote, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”

Phillip shut his eyes as he tapped his index finger onto his temple, “Heraclitus,” He answered, revealing one of the famous ancient Greek philosopher’s words.

“The past cannot be repeated. Circumstances may be similar, but there will always be differences. Time is constantly flowing and with it comes change.” Miles spoke. “I understand your fears around remarriage given what you have been through. I understand your marriage to Marina was not a love match and I understand you do not wish to subject the children and yourself to another miserable, loveless marriage but I sincerely hope you are not closing the door completely simply because you do not feel worthy enough for companionship because you are worthy of companionship and love, Sir Phillip.” He advised, but it wasn’t from his secretarial position but from a paternal standpoint of a man who watched Phillip grow up into a man who always placed duty ahead of anything else in his life; even ahead of his own happiness.

Phillip did not respond to him.

Mr. Carter sighed, “I will be on my way to speak with the solicitor,” He dismissed himself with a bow of the head before exiting the study and shutting the door behind him.

Phillip pondered and marinated on his words for a brief moment.

He knew it was his duty as a father to provide the children a stable household with a mother and a father present in their lives.

Their birth mother was gone. He knew first-hand what the death of a parent; and not having a loving mother around did to a child.

However, choosing a woman who could fill the shoes that were reserved only for Marina gave him a gross feeling at the pit of his stomach. It felt as though he was filling a checklist, instead of making one of the biggest decisions for his children’s lives.

A woman who would marry him had to be someone who would love the children unconditionally as if they were her own.

And he just did not have the will to put that kind of pressure on a woman. No woman goes into marriage eagerly wishing to become a stepmother.

Not to mention he did not exactly know how he felt about marriage as an institution.

He married only to honor his brother’s name and to give his brother’s children a legitimate place in the Crane legacy.

But Phillip has never had the desire to marry, probably because the marriages he’s witnessed throughout his life did not aspire any confidence in his belief in the sanctity of such a union.

Marriage to him meant that all parties involved should experience an element of happiness. If the wife was happy, the husband would be happy and in turn the children would be happy.

He never thought himself as the romantic type but he knew that marriage surely shouldn’t only be transactional? There had to be a foundation of strong love there for a marriage to be a success and for a family to be happy.

His marriage to Marina did not have love as a foundation nor did it grow into love.

It was cordial and respectful yes, and he did care for her wellbeing as the lady of the household and the mother of his brother’s children but it was nothing beyond that.

They were not lovers. They were not even friends.

It was purely transactional and they were both all the more miserable for it.

Phillip did not want that type of life; or that type of environment again for his children.

If he could marry a second time, he expected…

He hoped…

He wished…

He wanted it to be a love match.

It could be a friendship love, a familial love or even a romantic love. He did not care. Love simply had to be the foundation for it to work.

But then again, did he know what that felt like? A romantic love?

What exactly would he be looking for? He doesn’t recall ever experiencing the emotion of being in love with anyone. He was a man of science and fact; not fantasy and ideas of love.

Love was foreign to him.

He had the brotherly love he had for his older brother George, of course.

He did not experience any type of love from his father.

But he does know what a mother’s love feels like though; and he loved his mother dearly.

That was precisely what his children needed. A loving mother and a father who loved and cared for their mother —even if it wasn’t romantic.

…Argh!

He’s in quite a predicament.

Would spending the remainder of his life as a single parent be so bad? Difficult, sure. Perhaps even unheard of; but he could make it work right?

A knock on his door drew him out of frustrating train of thought, “Come in,” He called as he cleared his throat and adjusted himself in an upright position in his chair.

His butler, Gunning, waltzed into the room thereafter carrying a tray of food and a pot of tea, “It’s lunch time, sir! Knowing how you forget to sometimes have your lunch at this hour, Mrs. Millsby made sure I bring you a sandwich so you don’t collapse onto your stack of accounts due to starvation,”

Phillip scoffed, “Well, tell Mrs. Millsby I thank her kind and thoughtful gesture,” He stated as the butler placed the tray on the open space on his desk.

Gunning nodded his head, “Oh! Before I forget…” He began as he pulled out an enveloped letter and placed it on the desk in front of Phillip. “This arrived for you this morning,”

Phillip furrowed his brows as he took it and read the front of the letter with an unrecognizable Kensington address attached in the center.

Although, he had been corresponding with Miss Bridgerton long enough to deduce the impeccable penmanship belonged only to her.

It was a second letter in the past few days.

It only reminded him that he hadn’t responded to the last letter she sent to him —which he initially intended to do a day prior.

He'd better get right on it.

“Thank you, Gunning.” He dismissed his butler just as he got around to opening the letter.

244 Ambush Street, Kensington, London

April 1821

Dear Sir Phillip,

This is the second letter I’ve written to you in the past week! And I know you are probably still getting around to reading my last letter or you might have already read it, it doesn’t matter!

Either way, you won’t believe the adventurous and eventful day I had today! I did something I never imagined myself ever doing much less having the opportunity to experience and it exceeded any previous inclinations I might have ever had. Granted, I was terrified to do it but I’m happy I did it! I feel… liberated, you know? That feeling of freedom and clarity on something you’ve been left in the dark with for years coming to light? A dream now finally coming to fruition?

I cannot quantify into verbal words much less written word what this day meant to me! Oh to top it all off, I attended an unconventional ball tonight… and I genuinely enjoyed it? How ironic is that?

To be fair, it was a local ball in Paddington but it was the most thrilling experience I have ever had in my entire life — even topping my mother’s notorious Masquerade Ball.

Just being around regular working folk who were able to unwind and enjoy themselves without the constraints of proper etiquette and manner of speech was exciting to say the least.

Anyway, that is all I wanted to say. I just… I simply just had to speak to someone about my day and you were the first one I thought of.

You needn’t feel pressured to respond to this letter, or the previous one. I know I spouted some radical ideologies and I’d totally understand if you were slightly perturbed by it. I know most men are ha ha.

Hope you had a lovely day overall.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip could not understand it. He did not know how she did it.

But she did it.

Miss Bridgerton’s evidently enthusiastic letter that was purely a recap of Eloise’s adventures that day managed to put a smile on his face and rejuvenated him in a way he did not know a letter could.

The letter compelled him to respond immediately:

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I am delighted to hear that you had a wonderful day. And I’m glad you got to fulfill something you’ve been dreaming of.

The great philosopher Aristotle once said, “You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of mind next to honor.” so it’s admirable that you had the courage to do something that perhaps might have scared you initially but from the sounds of it, you do not regret it.

And you should never feel sorry for having an ambitious and inquisitive mind, Miss Bridgerton. The mind is the greatest tool a person can ever have and it’s important to nourish it in any way that we can.

Thank you for the update! Really did invigorate new life in me. It did the opposite of perturbing me. It… unperturbed me. It returbed me if you will.

Okay I’ll stop now!

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Bridgerton House

April 13^th, 1821

Eloise returned home from yet another incredible excursion to the St. John’s College in Oxford to take part in the lectures at the college.

It has been a little over a week since had begun her journey of education.

Eloise would go to the college once or twice a week because the journey to Oxford was rather arduously long and so it would be quite difficult to navigate traveling daily to and from Oxford.

It also would make it quite difficult to travel inconspicuously and undetected. Two days of enriching lectures was good enough for Eloise.

Recently, she was able to obtain forged yet impressively believable documents to be able to attend the school under the alias “Elliot Bosworth”.

She kept a relatively low profile even with her disguise, although, seldom did she keep quiet in class. She was eager to ask as many questions as she possibly could without sticking out like a sore thumb.

She found most joy in English Literature and English Studies, but she also enjoyed Humanities, Geography and History.

She took a arithmetic class to help improve her knowledge on accounts as she would be soon working for her brother after they agreed it would help her experience some form of vocational experience and to earn some extra pin money.

Having the opportunity to acquire and gather as much information about the world as she possibly could excited Eloise.

Stationed in the foyer at Bridgerton House, Eloise took the liberty of sorting through the stack of letters that arrived for the family for the week while Kate was preoccupied with getting her children in line.

Kate and Anthony were hosting a dinner for the Smythe-Smith family.

“Miles! Stop it! Right now!” Eloise could hear her sister-in-law scolding her second son. “Now, listen to me. I hope you promise to be on your best behavior for the rest of the evening. We have guests, remember?”

Miles nodded his head vigorously, “I will be good, Amma!” the little boy answered.

Kate sighed, shaking her head as she wrangled his hand into hers and looking up to give Eloise a knowing look.

Eloise chuckled, “Children,” She said a one word sentence.

Kate nodded, “Constantly keeping me on my toes!” She stated. “Thank you again for offering to sort through the letters. I have been meaning to get to it all morning.”

“It’s not a problem, I assure you.” Eloise replied. “You might as well assign the job permanently to me from now on,”

“I’ll take note of that in future when there’s 50 letter arrivals a week,” Kate joked.

Eloise’s eyes bulged in terror, almost instantly regretting her offer.

Kate guffawed, “Dinner should be ready soon! Are you coming?” Kate asked.

Eloise glanced down at the letters, “I will meet you all shortly,”

Subsequently, a loud chorus of laughter echoed from the drawing room as Anthony made a joke that seemed to have everyone in stitches.

“I ought to monitor my husband! Ensure he’s not speaking out of turn or embarrassing me,” Kate joked.

Eloise giggled as she watched her sister walk away with her son.

As Eloise returned her focus on the letters, she stumbled across two brand new letters from none other than her new botanist friend Sir Phillip Crane.

She smiled as she took the two letters and gathered the rest into a neat pile.

As she went to turn around and head to the study, her younger sister Hyacinth entered the room sneakily.

Eloise frowned, “What are you up to?”

Hyacinth flinched at the sudden voice of her older sister, “You frightened me!”

“What are you doing?” Eloise asked her sister.

“Nothing,” Hyacinth lied. “Okay! You caught me. I am hoping to slip into the kitchen to take a sip of the wine since Anthony will not allow me to have any at the party,”

“Are you even old enough to drink alcohol?”

She rolled her eyes at her, “What are you up to?” Hyacinth changed the subject, gesturing to the two letters Eloise was gripping in her hand.

Eloise quickly hid them away in a rapid motion —she honestly did not know why she did that. It was just letters. Everyone in the house wrote letters to different people all the time.

However, she hadn’t told anybody in the family about her correspondence with the widowed botanist. She knew if she had done so, many of them would make it an enormous ordeal; blowing it way out of proportion and making a whole issue out of it when it was simply just a cordial exchange of written dialogue between budding friends.

She also wanted to keep this part of her life to herself. Much of her life has been an open book.

Being part of the Bridgerton family, everyone was in each other’s lives; especially as a sister, you could not have the luxury of complete privacy.

So she was thrilled to keep this part of her life private —despite there being no scandalous reason or anything untoward with the correspondence for the need to keep it private.

Eloise cleared her throat as she ran a finger through her hair, “Nothing!”

Hyacinth was not convinced, “Very well…” she mumbled, “Let’s do this. I won’t ask if you won’t tell,”

Eloise sighed, “Fine!”

Hyacinth grinned before walking the separate direction whilst Eloise sauntered to the study.

As she lit a candle, she sat down on the chair and began opening the first letter, accompanied by a lovely, ambrosial iris flower pressed onto it and she then began reading it:

April 1821

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I meant to respond to your first letter sooner but I’ve been so preoccupied with the job that it has left me with a slightly disorganized schedule so I hadn’t gotten around to it.

But I am able to do it now!

I sincerely hope you don’t think I expect you to respond every letter with a pressed flower. Your written word is more than enough. Although…I ought to teach you flower pressing. It can be quite easy and enjoyable if you tap into your creative side a little bit.

Ah! Good to hear that fact about your father. Was he always interested in flower arranging?

As a scholar myself, it gives me a spike of serotonin when I hear someone is passionate about something they believe in.

And please, feel free to rant away as much as you like if you also do not mind my rambling about science. I also often get weary that I bore people to death with scientific facts. But I do appreciate that you believe in the importance of education as much as I do.

John Locke, a brilliant novelist, poet and philosopher once said, “Reading furnishes the mind only with materials of knowledge; it is thinking that makes what we read ours.”

The fact that you find happiness in the unchartered, rich and wider world is something you should never be ashamed of. You should hold onto it as long as you can. Nothing about what you say is radical or extreme. You dream of a better world than we currently experience, as do I. I share the hope that one day everyone has ample opportunity to be given the same knowledge about the world. There’s so much to know out there, so many details that haven’t been revealed to us. A way of living that’s more advanced. Untapped potential of the way we function as humans. Technological and scientific breakthroughs we are yet to experience.

Did you know scientists are discovering innovative ways to generate energy by means of natural mineral resources around us? Like coal?

Imagine that!

I certainly don’t ascribe to the thinking that women aren’t capable of acquiring the type of knowledge what a man would normally have access to. It is my belief that everyone should have the opportunity to be whatever they wish to be.

So don’t listen to those imbeciles who put you down for having an inquisitive mind. They simply don’t have the capacity to dream big.

Thank you for the kind words. I… I am doing well I suppose. You know, life has it's own hurdles but I think it's manageable. The household is doing well. It has been a difficult adjustment the past two months but we’re taking it day by day.

By the way, you mentioned your brothers. Do you have other siblings? I think I have only met your brother Mr. Colin Bridgerton and I believe it was your sister The Duchess of Hastings, I believe? How is that experience like? Having a Duchess for a sister?

Yours truly,

Phillip Crane

Who was this man?  That was all Eloise was able to ask herself after reading the letter. She was left positively gobsmacked at how eloquent, assertive and accommodating he was in his letter.

She could almost feel the sincerity in every word he wrote, every word of affirmation, and every careful and thoughtful and considerate reply to each sentence from her previous letter.

Eloise felt she rambled far too much in her letter but he did not seem fazed by it. He did not seem to complain at all.

He did not give off the impression that he was intimidated at all by her in the slightest. It honestly did the reserve effect. It made Eloise feel intimidated and uneasy at how casual and nonchalant he was about this whole interchange; unperturbed by her staunch, political and social beliefs. It did not bother him in the slightest it seemed.

Unbothered.

It frustrated Eloise because she could not read his face at the moment because they were not talking in a conventional manner physically. He was not physically there.

As of right now, Phillip was an intangible being. An idea. A figment of her imagination and the only evidence that he exists are his letters.

She had no idea what he looked like but she wondered if she could imagine him; visualize what he could look like.

Perhaps, putting a face to the letters would help make him real and not a simple idea.

She imagined him as tall and with a slender and athletic build; a lot like her brothers since they were the only men she’s seen the most of.

Or perhaps not…

He was a father after all. And he seemed incredibly well educated so he must be older— not too old she supposed but in his late to early forties perhaps? He was way too knowledgeable about the world to be younger than thirty-five.

Normally fathers with children in their forties let themselves go so she imagined he was pudgy, although, still very distinguished and with an intelligent face. Dark hair that he kept neatly quaffed. Forever dressed in a three-pieced suit and perhaps he had dark eyes; brown or hazel eyes maybe.

She was almost certain he had a respectable appearance. He gave off the impression of someone who prides himself on looking clean and presentable.

She imagined he had a friendly smile but nothing otherworldly. She essentially imagined someone like Benjamin Franklin or Isaac Newton who she recently read up on in her History lectures.

A brilliant minded man with no interesting facial features. Nothing special to look at.

Not to say he could not be handsome as well but Eloise did not imagine someone as smart as Phillip would be anything like the big-headed, vain men of the ton with an inflated sense of self-importance.

She thought incredibly handsome men were overcompensating for a lack of an unintelligible mind.

That’s why she never found herself attracted to those type of men.

Phillip…

He was different.

Was Eloise attracted to him? No. She did not physically know him.

But there was something about his mind…

She sincerely hoped he wasn’t too old. Why she did, she did not know.

She shook her head and began reading the aromatic second letter; this time with a yellow daffodil attached to it.

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I am delighted to hear that you had a wonderful day. And I’m glad you got to fulfill something you’ve been dreaming of.

The great philosopher Aristotle once said, “You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of mind next to honor.” so it’s admirable that you had the courage to do something that perhaps might have scared you initially but from the sounds of it, you do not regret it.

And like I said in the last letter, you should never feel sorry for having an ambitious and inquisitive mind, Miss Bridgerton. The mind is the greatest tool a person can ever have and it’s important to nourish it in any way that we can so that we can use it for good.

Thank you for the update! Really did invigorate new life in me. It did the opposite of perturbing me. It… unperturbed me. It returbed me if you will.

Okay I’ll stop now!

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Her smile widened more and more as she read through the letter.

His words. His cadence. His mind.

Everything about this letter writing correspondence excited her.

One idiosyncrasy she noticed in his letter writing was that he was always quick to slip in a philosophical quote somewhere in each letter he wrote.

He was clearly the type to find a philosophical explanation for everything in life. Eloise found it strange but in a good way. It showed he was a critical thinker. He was a man of wonder, contemplation, reason and intellectual independence.

These were charismatic traits that made her think that he’s probably very sociable and extroverted in real life as well.

An intelligent man with a philosophical mind who wasn’t by a woman’s mind or ambition?

Oh!

Who was this man?

Romney Hall

April 14^th, 1821

Phillip spent most of the day teaching several lectures for the next two days at Cambridge University.

Once or twice a week he was normally at Cambridge, teaching Botany one day and Philosophy another day. And the journey to Cambridge and back was at least seven hours in total on horse drawn carriage (an hour or two shorter on horseback) so if his schedule required him to spend two consecutive days teaching, he opted to stay at an inn overnight.

Luckily it was only for a night because he couldn’t spend longer than two nights away from his children and his estate, although the time apart did provide him some time to have some respite; to relax and be in his thoughts for one single evening without the pressures of life weighing him down.

He preferred his solitude than anything else. Being around so many people at once gave him high levels of anxiety.

Normally, he could only spend three to six hours out in the world engaging with the rest of the human civilization before his social manners depleted and he’d inevitably need a recharge.

Although, it’s not to say he completely detested being outside. He just preferred to only be outside for a certain amount of time before he wished to retreat back to where he was most comfortable.

After he had his meal, he plopped himself onto the bed where he would usually be reading a science book, but tonight he was reading the letters of one Miss Eloise Bridgerton.

Dear Sir Phillip,

Thank you for responding to both of my letters! And there’s no need to apologize, I understand how chaotically busy it must be to balance your hectic schedule. I’m curious how you juggle it all?

Phillip could try to impress her and tell her it’s easy to multi-task or he could be honest and tell her how impossibly overwhelming it can be to juggle it all, that he often makes several mistakes along the way and has to abandon one thing for another more often than not.

But that would surely ruin the flow of this correspondence. He did not want her to have the impression that his life was indeed a current mess and that he had no idea what he was doing most of the time.

…Yes, my father has always enjoyed flower picking in our garden at Aubrey Hall for as long as I can remember. He knew my mother loved flowers: and every morning he picked hyacinth for her —her favorite. He also picked flowers for us girls every morning as well. I remember my older sister Daphne and I bickering over which one of us got the bigger bouquet of flowers or not. My family is incredibly competitive so the girls and I constantly fought over who was his favorite —I believe I was but do not tell my sister Daphne.

He smiled as he read that. She seemed to really hold her father in high regard.

… You would be correct! Daphne is the Duchess of Hastings and let me tell you, she does not shy away from making that known to us whether directly or indirectly. I suppose she was destined to be a Duchess. She’s always been the apple of my mother’s eye. She has quite literally always been perfect – out from the womb. She made life difficult for someone like myself who did not quite dream to have a life like hers, but she also made it easy for me to not try to be perfect like her. We but heads from time to time because of our vastly different personalities but we’ve grown to respect each other in all our eccentricities —or rather my eccentricities.

He smiled wider. She was so sure of herself. He found that positively refreshing about this woman.

…but yes, my other siblings… Hmm. What can I say? Each one of us are different! The one defining trait we all share together would be our hair color I suppose? It’s incredible that each one of us has dark chestnut hair. All my sisters and I have a more auburn tone to our hair though so it’s pretty easy to spot a Bridgerton when you’re in the city.

Other than that we’re all pretty individualistic. I have an artsy, carefree, and hilariously goofy older sibling who’s definitely my favorite of the bunch(but don’t tell them that or else it'll get to their head), I also have a dutiful, rigid and orderly older sibling which makes sense since he’s the eldest, I have a shy sibling who prefers her own peace, I have a sibling with an incredibly bubbly and loud disposition, (you’ll know when Hyacinth is in the room for sure), I have a mischievous younger sibling who’s immature for his own good, I have an adventurous sibling who’s probably the kindest soul you’ll have met. Yes Colin! … Who am I forgetting? Oh yes, me!

Phillip laughed in loud hysterics at the final part of the letter.

He finished the last few points of her letter before moving onto the second one.

Dear Sir Phillip,

Thank you for the kind words of affirmation. Truly, it means a whole lot to me that you feel that way.

And wow… what an insightful philosophical quote to remember. I’ll make a note to jot it down somewhere in my diary. You seem very knowledgeable in multiple avenues. I'm impressed... 

He chuckled.

…and it looks like the man is not just brains. He has a sense of humor, huh? My my, Sir Phillip, you surprise me every day.

What else are you able to do? Don’t tell me you’re a secret nightingale with a voice of an angel or a skilled pianist that would put even Wolfgang Mozart to shame!

Yours truly,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip laughed as his cheeks flushed as he got flustered. She flattered him way too much. He was nothing special. Nothing compared to her it seemed. He found her much more interesting than he ever was.

Bloomsbury

May 2^nd, 1821

Eloise was attending one of the social justice debates at Assembly Point with her friends; Gladys, Esmeralda and Naomi.

Gladys brought Reginald along this time since they were both courting with one another. Their relationship was unconventional since they were both consenting working class adults with no immediate family around so they were not pressured to have a chaperone follow them around and they were not pressured to court with the intention of immediate marriage.

Marriage was the last thing on their minds at the moment. They were both simply content and happy to finally be together after years of pining after one another.

Eloise could see the love they had for one another. She thought having a man around would ruin the dynamic of their friendship but Reginald was a class gentleman, a far better gentleman than most of the men in the ton truly. He respected each of the women; and he treated Gladys especially in the way she deserved.

Esmeralda believed his respect for women had more to do with the fact that he was raised by a single mother for all his life. 

How could Eloise be mad at that?

“If the government will continue to increase the cost of living on the working class and tax the less fortunate, how will the next generation be able to survive when the 1% upperclassmen continue to enjoy their lavish lifestyle? The government should raise the taxes on the rich! Tax the rich!” The speaker exclaimed which ignited a ripple of applause and chants from the audience.

Eloise was distracted by the letter in her hands from her plant scientist friend, Sir Phillip.

They had been corresponding with one another for over three months; coming up on almost four months and it’s been a delight with each letter.

Sixteen correspondents. Thirty-two letters in total.

It has been quite a journey so far getting to know Sir Phillip.

He was much more than just a plant enthusiast.

She managed to find out that he had a rich ancestry. His father was English obviously but his mother was from Scotland. He had grandparents he visited regularly when he and his brother were children in Edinburgh before they died in his later teenage years.

He also had four cousins from his mother’s side who were currently in Scotland.

Two of the cousins he still kept in touch with lived in Glasgow. The other two he hadn’t met.

But he did tell her he felt much more connected to his Scottish roots than he was with his English.

He also revealed that he was an avid collector of wooden crafts and artefacts such as paintings —it would certainly be something Benedict would be thrilled to hear. It wasn’t as if he was an artful sort, but he was fascinated by the effort put into these various arts and crafts he collected and displayed all around his home.

He also revealed that he loved fishing; although he hadn’t found much time to go fishing in recent years but he did get back into it after the recent expedition he took with her brother Colin.

Eloise also found out an interesting tidbit about his years as a boxer. Yes. He was a boxer in his lifetime.

Not a professional one like William Mondrich... Well, she wasn't entirely sure about that one. It wouldn't surprise her if he went professional. He sounded like he liked dabbling into a bunch of different activities.

Eloise would have to find out at some point if he ever tried it as a profession or if it was strictly recreational. 

She never found that sort of sport to be particularly interesting; in fact, she detested gratuitous violence with a passion. It reeked of domineeringly toxic, testosterone filled energy that she was not eager to surround herself with.

Although, she was interested to know that he did not seem like the weak sort. He could take a right hook to the face if need be.

He also revealed that he grew up hunting with his older brother and being out in nature was what ignited his love for plant life.

She thought he would make great friends with the nature conservationist and naturalist Lord Debling if their paths ever crossed.

She found out his main source of entertainment outside of spending his days in the greenhouse and garden, was playing board games with his household staff; be it chess, backgammon, and draughts.

He also enjoyed outdoor activities that he often played with his children when he had the time; such as, cricket, fencing, horse-riding, blind man’s bluff, leap frog, hopscotch,, shuttlecock and croquet.

Apparently these were outdoor games he grew up partaking in with his older brother for a period.

Eloise noticed how much he spoke highly of his older brother. Even in the latest letter she was currently reading, his brother was featured in it:

…My brother would often bully me into climbing up trees with him. There was one day he dared me to climb up the tallest redwood tree in the forest and I slipped off a branch and my body slammed and planted straight onto the hard ground. I broke my arm and had to wear a sling for several weeks. I’ll never forget that day.

Eloise giggled.

She did find one thing peculiar though; he rarely ever talked about his parents. Even when she would indirectly ask him about them he would evade the question by bringing up a story about his brother which was all well and good, but she was curious with his reluctance to discuss his parents.

Nevertheless, she did not press on the matter. There was a reason for his hesitance to reveal any details about them and she would respect his privacy.

Perhaps, it was a lot for him to put onto pen and paper she presumed.

… …

Today was one of those days Phillip decided to take a trip out into the city, but this time instead of only going to the market; he decided at the spur of the moment to attend one of the debates he hears was all the rage in the streets.

Apparently, Eloise mentioned that she had friends who attended a few debates from time to time and states that they always felt energized, encouraged and revitalized afterwards.

“… The government want to implement a new strategy that would have 30% of the free trade exports of Britain going directly into the pockets of the Empire! All our hard labor in the harbor only for the King’s Country to reap the rewards!” The speaker expressed. “Think of as early as 1816, when the high cost of grain caused a famine and unrest in East Anglia and the North of England, where was the royal family? What were the upper class doing? Eating!”

There was a chorus of loud, angry boos and disdain-filled curses hurled at the upper echelon of the ton.

“Profiteers and merchants were stealing all the grain that helped put food on our children’s tables every night! Grain that we worked hard to obtain!” The female speaker retorted. “Over the last four years we have seen a high rise in food prices, causing a slump in consumption and consequently in industrial production and employment. People without jobs, homeless! Hopeless! The recession has ruined lives and the ton simply do not give a damn! They are never effected? Why is that? How is that acceptable?”

The yells and jeers grew louder with greater agitation and rage.

“In 1819, seventy thousands of discontented workers took to the streets of Peterloo to riot and rise against the injustice of the authorities and what does the king do? He sends the British Calvary to severely wound four hundred protestor and kill five to ten innocent human beings! They call us radicals and animals for wanting equal treatment but they are the radicals! They are the animals!”

More jeering followed soon after.

Phillip glanced back down, shaking his head —not that he was in disagreement with the valid concern and disdain for the government but that many people are sharing these same sentiments and nothing is done about it.

It was not right.

It was not fair.

Phillip sighed as he lifted his head and clapped his hands as the speaker said her final parting remarks.

As Phillip’s eyes scanned the crowd, he spotted the back of the head of a woman with beautiful, long dark chestnut, with auburn accented hair.

He instantly recalled one of his correspondence with Eloise where she mentioned her hair color in relation to the rest of her family; how it was easy to spot a Bridgerton.

Could it be Eloise?

She did mention her companions frequent this place, but he did not imagine she would ever be caught dead here given her high rank in society.

But Eloise did sound like a bit of a rebel so he wouldn’t be completely surprised.

Perhaps…

Maybe if he could get a better look…

As he went to approach the lady who was a mere inches away from her, he was suddenly halted in his tracks by several people walking in front of him in a single file; conversing with one another and barely acknowledging his presence.

As soon as the last person was out of the way, the dark chestnut haired woman vanished.

Phillip sighed.

Countryside

June 22^nd, 1821

The social season of the year has ended and families in the ton had now begun retreating to their country residences.

The Bridgerton, well, rather a certain portion of the Bridgerton’s would be staying at Aubrey Hall for the start of the summer holiday. Anthony and Kate with their two children; of course, would have been the first to arrive at their home, their stepfather Lord Anderson and mother Lady Violet Anderson also arrived at Aubrey Hall with Hyacinth and Lord Anderson’s three children, Gregory returned from university after completing another year, Colin and Penelope also arrived with their children but they would only stay for a few days with the family before they retreated to the Featherington country estate.

And then there was of course Eloise as well.

Although, Eloise spent most of her time with Benedict and Sophie at their country residence of My Cottage when they were not at Aubrey Hall to visit. My Cottage was only a twenty-five minute carriage ride away from Aubrey Hall; essentially a stone’s throw away.

Posy Li was also staying there as well which meant Hyacinth tagged along to visit often with Eloise. She was essentially an honorary Bridgerton after Violet took her in as her own when her mother Araminta abandoned her years ago, but Posy and Sophie were incredibly close; inseparable like real sisters so it was very seldom you would find her not at their residence.

Daphne and Simon would be spending most of the summer at Clyvedon House. They were a large family all on their own so it made sense that they would spend a majority of their time together as a family unit. But they did promise to make an appearance at Kate’s annual ball. 

Francesca would arrive at Aubrey Hall in a few weeks, in the coming month with her son John Stirling II, along with her best friend and cousin-in-law Michaela.

It was never a dull moment as a Bridgerton. 

Bridgerton summers at Aubrey Hall always held such fond memories for Eloise and as the family continued to grow, more memories are made. 

That afternoon, her mother asked her to accompany her to a luncheon with a friend of hers who lived in Chatham; and so the pair of them took the hour and a half long journey to a bountiful estate with large, wide and boastful acreage. 

Eloise hummed, “Who lives here?” She asked her mother.

Violet smiled, “You will see,” She replied as they sauntered their way up the cobblestoned path leading to the large mahogany doors.

As they reached the home, Violet gave three consecutive knocks on the door and the doors were suddenly flung open by the resident butler.

“Lady Violet Anderson,” The female butler bobbed her head. “Miss Eloise Bridgerton,” She bowed her head.

Female butler?

That would be a first!

“Welcome,” The female butler gestured to the inside as she stepped aside.

Violet smiled, adjusting her shawl, “Thank you,” She smiled as she took Eloise’s hand and led them both inside before the butler shut the door and led them to through the house.

Eloise was amazed by how feminine the entire estate was; incredibly light and open, with plenty of pastel and colorful features that brighten up the home. It felt very modern, although, you could still sense the rich history of it in the walls and some of the décor.

“Right this way, ma’am!” The female butler motioned through the one door for the women to lead out of.

“Lady Violet!” A matured, feminine voice exclaimed suddenly as soon as they exited out the main home and into the outside courtyard. “It’s so lovely to see you, again!”

Violet went to embrace her friend in a hug, “Likewise! It has been far too long, my friend.”

“It sure has,” The beautiful middle-aged woman –no older than her late fifties or early sixties Eloise reckoned – with short, reddish-brown hair that were graying in certain parts.

She was absolutely fabulously dressed! You could tell what she wore was of incredible quality. Silks. So much silk and satin.

“I would like you to meet my second eldest daughter, Eloise,” Violet pulled away to introduce her daughter. “Eloise, this is my good childhood friend Dame Margaret Dupree-Qualley,” She familiarized.

“But you may call me Peggy,” She said displaying a jubilant and inviting disposition; stretching out her hand to her.

Eloise extended her hand out to her, “It is lovely to meet you,”

Thereafter, the three women took their seats on the ornate table display on the terrace that overlooked the beautiful greenery of the garden.

“Ah! The food has arrived!” Peggy mentioned with a smile as the servants brought the lunch.

“Peggy is one of the few female baronetesses in all of England,” Violet spoke as soon as the servers set foot in front of them.

Eloise’s eyes widened, “Oh, my! Is that so?”

“Yes,” Peggy expressed. “Hereditary. I come from a long lineage of baronets and I am the first female baronet of the Qualley line.”

Eloise’s eyes bulged even wider, “You are not a baronetess through marriage?”

Violet and Peggy shared a few chuckles, “No! I am not married nor have I ever been married before,”

“Oh,” was all Eloise could say as she dug into her food and took a bite out of her chicken fillet and brought it to her mouth before stopping to ask a proceeding question, “Is there a reason you stayed unmarried?”

Peggy smiled, “I enjoyed my independence. I valued my freedom to choose what I wished to do and I loved that I did not need to ask for approval from anybody on how to live my life,”

Eloise grinned, nodding her head in agreement at her words. Glancing back at Violet and hoping she would understand where she came from using the firsthand experience of a friend of hers.

“Did you experience any pushback for your decision to remain unmarried? Especially as a baronetess with an estate, surely the expectation was there to have it pass down to your offspring?” Eloise asked, “Who does the estate pass down to by the way? In the event that anything tragic happens? Do you have any siblings?”

“I am the eldest of four,” Peggy began, “All of which are sisters so for my father, he had incredibly bad luck in siring an heir. Although, I do think he was content with it. I was always the son he never had to him, he would say.”

Eloise chuckled, “Nonetheless, your home is still incredible with a very clear feminine touch,”

“Yes, just because I was treated like a son did not mean I was not feminine,” Peggy jested. Eloise blushed.

Eloise chuckled as she dug into her meal, “That seems to be society’s misconception about women with strong independent, anti-patriarchal opinions; they’re accused of being not feminine or somehow strange, perhaps even…”

“Queer?” Peggy brought up pointedly.

Eloise’s head shot up as she said, “Yes,” She answered, “Not that there is anything wrong with being queer…” She had to whisper the word; she was surprised her mother or the hostess even heard it.

It was still a rather taboo topic of discussion. Eloise only recently learned about the intricacies of that spectrum of relationships from conversations she had with Michaela Stirling several years ago whilst she was in Scotland. It did not matter to Eloise who anybody chose to love, as long as they did not lose a part of themselves in a relationship; whether it was between men and women or otherwise.

“I am not queer, Miss Eloise.” Peggy spoke, with a soft chuckle, noticing that the conversation was making Violet slightly uncomfortable as she cleared her throat.

Eloise nodded, “So, you’ve never been with a man?”

Peggy shook her head, “Oh, I have! I’ve been with plenty of men in my lifetime. No—No, just because I chose a life of spinsterhood did not mean I depraved myself of human companionship. On the contrary, I have been in love several times and each time was an experience I would cherish forever. But nothing compares to the love I have for the man I have been with twenty-five years.”

Eloise’s eyes bulged, “Twenty-five years?”

Peggy nodded, “Jean-Claude Val Bardot, a French circus owner. We met in the streets of Marseilles in the spring of 1796. The most charming man with the kindest eyes and purest soul you would ever find.”

Eloise smiled slightly, “H-How did you navigate life without commitment? How did you subvert all societal expectations with your relationship?”

“It was certainly not without hassle,” Peggy stated. “It has been a constant battle to fight for our unconventional love in the guise of society. I was not his mistress and we were not having an affair. He is my life partner; and the person I will continue to grow old with and eventually die with. We do not need a written document to prove our commitment and love to each other.”

Eloise nodded in understanding, “So…You did not give up on the idea of love despite wanting to live an independent life?”

“No,” She answered. “Initially I planned to live alone, and that plan was valid. I knew I was unable to have children of my own, and I was content with that because I did not desire to have them in the first place. I was content in my singleness. You do not have to be with someone in order to be fulfilled and happy, but my philosophy is that, if love does come along. Do not push it away. It is there for a reason. You can have both worlds, and they can coexist…It is in your hands to make it work and do not let societal expectation dictate how you should navigate your relationship; your life,”

Eloise’s smile fell slightly as she trailed off in thought, her eyes glancing to the horizon as she pondered on her words.

…Do not let societal expectation dictate how you should navigate your life.

Powerful words indeed.

... …

Aubrey Hall

Later that night, Eloise lay in bed pondering about the events of the day; from her afternoon with the wonderfully fabulous and aspirational spinster Dame Margaret—correction, Dame Peggy Dupree-Qualley to this evening after reading the letter from Phillip that she did not get around to reading till today.

Usually she expected a friendly correspondence filled with humorous banter with the botanist, but this letter was not one of those letters.

Something was strange…

Something was off with Sir Phillip.

She deduced as much from the way he wrote in his letter. There was no silly quip or interesting fact of the day. There was no kind words of affirmation from him.

It felt…like an entirely different person.

June 1821

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I am glad to hear you’ve arrived safely in the countryside. Sending my gratitude for the gift.

I hope this letter finds you well,

Kind regards,

Sir Phillip Crane

‘I hope this letter finds you well’ ‘Kind regards’ as he signed off as ‘Sir Phillip Crane’?

It was all so odd.

Kind regards? What was she to him? A solicitor?

The whole letter resembled that of a thank you note one would receive from a new neighbor. Not a person you’ve established a friendship for almost half a year!

In their whole five month correspondence, Phillip never once signed off using his formal title. It has always been just Phillip Crane. Eloise even asked him about it in one of his letters and he responded by saying he simply preferred to respond to letters with his Christian name to make the letter more personal and direct, and not have it be like some formal, business transaction.

Was this a formal exchange to him now?

Did the penny finally drop?

Was the façade finally lifted?

Was the mask finally unveiled?

Was this the real Sir Phillip all along?

A cold, quick, exacting man with a dismissive disposition? Did he find his correspondence with Eloise tedious and tiresome? Or worse…Did he find it to be boring now?

So many questions raced in her mind as she lay down in silence.

Eloise exhaled a heavy sigh.

Oh, Phillip…

What an enigmatic man you were; incredibly hard to read.

Countryside

June 23rd, 1821

“Again!” Phillip growled after spitting out the blood residue from his mouth; wiping the saliva off his lips with the back of his clothed hand before raising his hands up in the air.

“Sir, I believe we should take a break,” Gunning stated.

Phillip snarled, shooting daggers at him. “Again!” He seethed as he lurched forward to throw a right hook against his chin.

Gunning was sent hurling back onto the ground, gripping his chin that made a cracking sound as he twisted it.

“Uh…Ow?” Gunning grumbled with a soft chuckle.

“Get up!” Phillip snarled, “Fight me!”

‘Sir…” Gunning coughed as he slowly lifted himself off the ground.

“Fight me!” Phillip growled, wiping the sweat off his forehead and jumping energetically up and down the cockpit of the squared circle boxing ring.

Phillip took a trip with his butler, Gunning, to a boxing studio a mere ten minute jog away from his home at Romney Hall. He often frequented the establishment once a week, several times if he was burdened with more stress than usual.

He used the boxing ring as an opportunity to release his inner, pent up aggression on the punching bag or in today’s case, on his butler.

Gunning lunged forward with a swift punch motion to the face to which Phillip was quickly able to maneuver out of.

Gunning groaned he lurched forward for another thump, to which Phillip ducked and blocked out before tossing a blow into his gut, causing Gunning to groan as he clutched his stomach, laughing at the intensity of his blow.

“You pack a mean punch, sir!” Gunning croaked.

Phillip panted heavily as he wiped perspiration oozing down his pepper-bearded cheek.

Gunning glanced back at Phillip and charged for him with his arms in the air, preparing to fire multiple punches at him to which Phillip blocked and ducked at each blow, before colliding his fists into the butler’s gut, then to his chest –pushing him back and causing him to inadvertently drop his guard – and he then hurled several punches to the face with both of his fists against his jaw, smacking him with intense dominion. 

Gunning fell to the ground and raised his hand up in surrender, “Very well! Okay! Okay! Enough! Truce!” He signified with his hands stacking to form the shape of a ‘T’.

Phillip panted as he brushed his hand down his sweaty, bare, hardened stomach as he sauntered over to the ropes to snatch a towel to wipe the oozing, wet secretion off his skin; from his face, down to his chest, arms and stomach.

He then sauntered over to his butler to help him off the ground.

“Pretty evident you have a penchant for callously inciting a death strike today.” Gunning expressed. “Are you trying to murder me? At least let me say my final goodbyes before I meet my end by your hand,”

Phillip sighed, “My apologies,” He stated in defeat, “I did not mean to be so aggressive,”

Gunning smiled as he surveyed his disposition, “Did it help you?”

Phillip exhaled again, shaking his head, “No,”

Gunning gave him another sympathetic smile. “I know it has been a difficult week. Perhaps, you should take some much needed respite,” He stated before exiting the ring, “I ought to go spill my out my wretched guts,”

Phillip scoffed as he began pacing around the square.

This week, or this month really, was a difficult period for him to relive every year.

Not only was it anniversary of his mother’s death —coming up on twenty years since she died — it was also his older brother’s birthday; a mere two months after, down to the day, that he died during the Napoleon War.

The sad irony of it all is that his brother died on what would have been their mother’s birthday, whilst his mother died on what would have been his brother’s birthday,

What luck he had.

Dammit! He thought to himself.

Subsequently, he recalled his latest correspondence with Miss Bridgerton could have perhaps appeared as unfriendly and hard-hearted.

He hoped she was not left feeling disheartened by his less than enthusiastic demeanor through his letters.

Either way, he intended to apologize soon enough.

Aubrey Hall

July 4^th, 1821

After breaking her fast with the rest of the family one morning, Eloise left the conversational family to head back up the stairs to her bedchamber.

“Miss Eloise!” She heard Footman John call out to her.

Eloise spun around on her heel, “Yes?”

“A letter arrived for you this morning!” He stated with a knowing smile as he went to hand her the letter before leaving the room.

Eloise furrowed her brows in intrigue, cocking one eyebrow up as she surveyed the rose scented, textured envelope.

She hadn’t responded to Phillip’s last letter because she felt offended and upset by the manner in which it was written.

She could sense something was different about it; she had her own ideas but she had no way of knowing what the truth was unless he told her or she asked him directly.

And she was too proud to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was thinking of him.

She did not want him to know that he had this effect on her; this feeling of anger, disappointment, sadness, longing and concern…

She did not want to experience these feelings for any man, much less a stranger she did not know the face of.

At the end of the day, Phillip was a stranger…

But even she couldn’t lie convincingly to herself to believe that. He was not a stranger to her. He was a friend; and right now…she couldn’t even hide her elation that her friend took the initiative to write to her despite herself not responding to him.

She flipped open the letter after cutting the wax off; revealing the pressed flowers of the day: pink carnations and white orchids.

July 1821

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

I want to express my deepest apologies for my rather unfortunately curt letter from our last correspondence. I did not wish to convey any ill-will towards you. If you felt offended believe me it was not my intent.

And I do have an explanation for it.

A few weeks ago was the twentieth anniversary of my mother’s death and it also was what would have been my late brother’s birthday as well.

It has also taken me a while to respond sooner because my son has caught a nasty cold so I’ve been monitoring him for the past week and a half or so…

I thoroughly enjoy our correspondence with one another and I never want you to feel as though I do not appreciate our friendship because I do, Miss Bridgerton, more than you will ever know.

I have attached these three pink carnations and three orchids to express my sincerest apologies and to also mark the six month of our correspondence. Can you believe it?

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

After nearly forty letters shared with Sir Phillip, what was it about this letter that genuinely awakened weird emotions within her? Why did she feel inexplicable anguish for him when he told her his incredibly valid reason for the tone of his last letter?

Why did she feel sorrow with a strange tinge of pride that he felt courageous enough to be vulnerable to her for the first time?

Why did she suddenly feel guilty for feeling entitled to an explanation in the first place?

Why did she feel as though her problems were almost incredibly small in the grand scheme of things?

Why was her stomach in several knots? Why was her gut fluttering as if tiny butterflies flew all over inside her at the very thought of him taking the time to express a sincere apology with the added effort of attaching flowers that symbolized and accompanied that emotion?

Why was she beginning to genuinely care for this man?

Eloise felt a shiver down her spine as she shuddered at the unexplained, frenzied and varied emotions she was experiencing at a single moment.

“I feel nauseous…” She muttered to herself as she felt herself begin to get sick.

Wrenhaven Farm

August 13^th, 1821

Phillip traveled with his children to the local, rural farm not too far from Romney Hall. The children wished to see the cows and sheep; so at the spur of moment, he spontaneously decided to treat them out to a farm day in the rural countryside for the late morning.

“Amanda! Look! A baby cow!” Oliver nudged his twin sister as he pointed.

“A calf,” Phillip corrected.

“Yes! A calf!” Oliver remarked before chuckling, glancing back up at his father. “A calf! Half and calf! Half of a cow is a calf! How peculiar is that, father?”

Phillip snorted, shaking his head as he ruffled his head, “Indeed, my boy. Indeed.”

There was a chorus of applause the came from some farm folk as they surrounded a pigsty.

“What’s happening there, father?” Amanda asked as she sheepishly looked over to the group of people; appearing slightly overwhelmed by the mass, although, curious by the commotion.

Phillip looked around to investigation, “Looks to be a piglet race!”

“A piglet race?!” The twins spoke in synchronization, their faces lighting up in an attentive beam.

Phillip nodded, “Mhmm!”

“May we go see, please!” Oliver pleaded, clasping his hands together. “Please! Please, father?!”

Phillip rolled his eyes, “Very well,” He motioned for him to go ahead.

He squealed as he ran quickly on his boots to the sty. Amanda was slightly apprehensive as she monitored the large crowd gathered around the pin.

Like Phillip, Amanda found large crowds to be intimidating and daunting; and if she was around them for too long, her body and energy would be physically drained by the end of it.

He knew her current deliberation all too well.

He smiled as he went to reach for her hand and held it tightly, gently caressing the back of her soft small hand with his thumb, “Stay with me,” He told her –although he hoped she took it as his reassurance to her that she would be fine as long as she stuck close to him.

She nodded her head as she followed her dad as he led the way; grasping his hand ever so tightly and ardently, never letting go of it as they sauntered to the pigsty where Oliver was already climbing over wooden fence to get a better look.

“Be careful, Oliver,” Phillip warned. “We wouldn’t want you toppling over into the sty,”

Oliver smiled, “Look, Amanda! This will be your home one day!” He used his forefinger to point directly towards the massive heap of pig excrement in the corner.

Phillip scolded, “Oliver…Don’t be rude to your sister,”

Oliver laughed whilst Amanda stuck her tongue out to him.

“Father, I cannot see!” Amanda complained in a soft, gentle whisper.

“Oh,” Phillip responded before bending down to hoist her up into the air and placing her on his shoulders, causing her to laugh loudly at the short-lived joyride up in the air. “Better?”

Amanda giggled, “Mhmm! Thank you!” She stated as she gripped onto his curly mop of hair,

And then the family of three continued to cheer along with the other farm folk.

After the piglet race, Phillip bought the children some jelly sweets from the vendor of the farm which they nibbled on as they watched all the animals they passed by.

“Father, how long do horses live?” Amanda asked randomly, licking her sticky fingers.

“Most horses can live up to twenty-five to thirty years,”

“And cows?”

“Typically they live up to fifteen years. Maybe even twenty if they are lucky,”

“What about dogs?” Oliver asked.

“Also around fifteen years. It depends on the breed. If they’re larger breeds, fifteen to eighteen years and if they’re smaller breeds then around twelve to fourteen years.” He answered them.

“So we will only have Bessie for twelve more years until she dies?” Amanda asked with a small pout.

“Unfortunately, yes.” He told them.

“What about mothers…?” Amanda asked. “Do they all live until the age mother died?”

This caused Phillip to halt in his tracks.

He did not expect that question from his daughter.

“Amanda, why—? What do you mean by that?”

Amanda turned to look at him, her eyes were watering, “I mean, do all mothers have to die young? Like mother did?”

Phillip immediately crouched down to her level, “No, sweetheart. Mothers do not all die young.”

“Then why did mother have to die?” She probed, followed by an immediate yelp as she sobbed viciously as he hands flew to her face; rubbing her eyes as the tears trickled down her face.

“Amanda…” Phillip sighed as he hung his head down in shame as he gently rested his hand on her shoulder to soothingly stroke it. “Look at me,” He urged as he went to bring her hands down to look into her eyes.

She continued crying but only softly as she blinked her eyes open to gaze into his blue pooled eyes.

“What happened to your mother does not happen to all mothers, I assure you.” He spoke. “I know plenty of mothers who live long, long, long lives.” He emphasized in a way she would comprehend.

He glanced to the side to see Oliver also getting overcome by emotion.

“Your mother died with the love in her heart for you and because of that love, she will always live within you. In your heart,” He said with a smile as he poked both of their chests, causing them to giggle. “I know you both miss her dearly.”

“Do you miss her?” Oliver asked.

Phillip did not know how he felt about Marina. He cared for her but he never loved her. They never had the opportunity to establish any kind of meaningful bond where it could have been love; be it familial, or even a friendship.

But he cared for her because she brought George’s children into his life; the children of the one person he did love immensely.

“I do miss her,” He stated.

“Will you die?”

Phillip was not going to beat around the bush about it. It was best to be honest with the children.

He nodded, “Someday, yes.” He answered. They pouted. “But not today, or tomorrow. It will not be for a long while till that happens. So, I want you both to remember that I will always be here for you. I will always be your father.” He stated.

That was the first time he had ever verbally acknowledged himself as the father of the children and actually meant it. 

In private, when the children weren't in earshot, he always referred to them as his brother’s children because that was what they were; they would always have his DNA in them.

However, in action and in deed, the children were Phillip’s and he was theirs.

He never had a good role model of how to be a good father but from the little glimmers he had seen with his relationship with his brother, who sort of acted like a fatherly figure sometimes instead of a brother, and to his relationship with Mr. Carter, he could have found worse examples.

“I know I have not always been the best father to you sometimes but I am doing the best that I can,” He stated to them. “I can’t guarantee I will not make mistakes, but I will do my best to make you happy. To give you both the best life possible. It might just be the three of us for a long time but I think we can make a great team, certainly?”

The children nodded their head vigorously, “Indeed!” Amanda said with a bright smile.

“All I ask from you is to meet me halfway, okay? Do not cause too much mischief so that I have headaches all the time,” He said, jokingly tickling their stomachs.

They laughed, “You are not a bad father! You are the bestest father in the whole wide world!” Oliver exclaimed, stretching his arms as wide as they could go.

Phillip laughed, choosing to let the grammatical error in his words slide.

“Thank you, Oliver,” He replied. “Come here,” He exhaled, bringing the twins into his arms to embrace them; as they wrapped their arms around his neck tightly.  “I love you,” He spoke, kissing both of their temples.

Chapter Text

 Break Free - Ariana Grande (string quartet instrumental) 

CHAPTER 9

September 15^th. 1821

Romney Hall

In the morning, Phillip was sat in the dining room area, enjoying his extraordinary, traditional English breakfast that the cooks prepared for the family since dawn.

His children were sat on the two opposite sides of the table to his left and right; muttering and bickering with each other.

“Give me your eggs!” Oliver ordered.

Amanda shook her head viciously, “No! They’re my eggs! Who told you to finish yours so quickly?”

“Give me your eggs right now!” Oliver growled.

Amanda shook her head as she swallowed a piece of scrambled eggs in her mouth.

Oliver stared at her plate like a prized golden calf before reaching over the table to snatch her plate for the eggs; effectively taking matters into his own hands.

Amanda gasped, “Oliver! No! Those are my eggs!” She complained as she tried to push her plate away from him, but failing to stop him from grabbing a fistful of her eggs and tossing them onto his plate –not without leaving a trail of mess on the table though.

Amanda moaned, “Oliver!” She cried, and Oliver just chuckled as he shoved some of her eggs into his mouth.

The little girl pouted her bottom lip and folded her arms together dramatically; tears brimming out her eyes as she glanced back at Phillip, “Father! Oliver stole my eggs!” She complained.

“I did not!” Oliver defended himself.

Phillip did not look up to inspect, “Oliver, give your sister her eggs back,” He sighed.

“B-But he ate all of them already!” Amanda spoke, sadness in her voice.

Phillip sighed as he finally looked up, hearing his daughter’s disheartened tone, “You may have my eggs, sweetheart.” Phillip whispered to her with a soft smile as he pushed his plate to her.

She grinned widely as she giggled, taking his plate and glaring back at Oliver.

Oliver protested, “But, father--?”

“Ah! Ah!” Phillip warned him, wagging his finger at his son. “You apologize to your sister now!”

Oliver rolled his eyes, crossing his fingers.

“Oliver…” Phillip spoke, cocking an eyebrow and narrowing his eyes at him with a stern look.

Oliver grumbled, mumbling his insincere apology, “Sorry,”

Phillip sighed; thinking the word enough would suffice and then returned back to his reading.

His children were silent for no longer than thirty seconds before the twosome resumed their bickering; this time now firing insults at each other whilst Phillip was reading.

“If you eat any more food you will not fit in your dresses!” Oliver pointed.

Amanda gasped, “Are you calling me fat?”

“If the s-s-shoe fits,” Oliver stammered.

Amanda rolled her eyes, “You can’t even speak! What do you know about anything in that empty head of yours?”

“I know that you should make yourself smaller!” He snarled back.

Amanda seethed, “Argh!” She muttered, clattering her fork onto the plate. “You are insufferable! I wish you would go outside to be with the rest of your kind; the animals for a few hours. Or—or better yet…disappear entirely!”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?!” Oliver seethed. “Sometimes I could scratch your eyes out!”

Phillip shook his head; he tried so very hard to bite his tongue throughout the exchange, resorting to avoid escalating the matter by shouting at the children because it never seems to help but he was left with no choice.

“Hey!” Phillip shouted at his son. Oliver flinched. “Stop it, right now! Both of you! Oliver, you have been very rude to your sister! That is not the way to treat a lady! I want you to go to your bedchamber and stay there until you fix your attitude!”

“B-b-but what about Amanda? She also said bad stuff about me! She said I had an empty head!”

“You started it, dullard!”

“What does that mean?” Oliver accused.

“Do not answer that!” Phillip stopped Amanda as she was about to answer her brother. “Oliver! Go to your bedchamber. Now!”

“I haven’t finished my meal?” Oliver pouted.

Phillip gave him a warning look with just his flared eyes that seemed to hasten the little boy to get up from his chair and begin leaving the room, with his head hanging low and dragging his feet, before he began running up the stairs.

As he ran along the corridor, Phillip heard a loud clanking and clattering noise; a heavy object shattered onto the ground and Phillip could only imagine it was one of the ceramic flowerpots.

He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

He was not going to shout.

Phillip was never really a disciplinarian. At least, not like his father. He never wanted to be like his father when it came to raising his children. His father was a cruel man who took disciplinary actions on the boys to a degree that Phillip knew he did not want to repeat with the children, and that it is why he felt it was much safer to refrain from showing his frustration.

Ever since Marina died, however, the children have grown to be even more unruly than before she passed. And even more so now in the recent months.

Lately, however, it has shifted to Amanda becoming well-behaved and Oliver becoming a nuisance to handle. Amanda did not like when her father was frustrated and so she did her best to make him happy; and Phillip saw that and appreciated it.

Oliver was the difficult one.

And he loved to rile his sister up at any given moment which in turn naturally led Amanda to want to defend herself and that is why the children have been bickering non-stop.

Nurse Millsby was a great help in sorting the children out when she was around; the children were rarely a problem when she was around but she could only do so much in her old age.

She was not at the age where she ought to be chasing and controlling the twins all hours of the day; and it seemed like Oliver took advantage of her absence to cause as much havoc as humanly possible and that drove Phillip up the wall.

He desperately needed a new governess soon.

Phillip tried to reason with the boy through a kind and gentle parenting approach. It worked with Amanda so surely it could work on Oliver.

Alas, the boy did not budge. It seemed as though you can tell him one thing in one ear and the next it vanished through the other.

Phillip did not understand why his son was acting up the way he did. Every rule Phillip established in the household it seemed like the boy wanted to do the opposite.

Despite being twins, Oliver and Amanda were vastly different individuals. Amanda, despite being wickedly smart, she was incredibly shy and socially inept but that was not something that affected her behavior at home.

Oliver was the loose cannon. He was always unpredictable and always wreaking some sort of havoc and Phillip could not quite figure him out yet.

He wondered whether Oliver’s mischievousness, his cheekiness, his overt playfulness and carelessness, his tantrums and outbursts, his lack of concentration and distractibility, his hyperactivity and his restlessness were an act of retaliation and rebellion or was it form of delayed mental maturity?

Phillip had no idea.

It left Phillip questioning his own parenting tactics. Why did his style of parenting work on Amanda but never on Oliver? How differently did he need to approach disciplining his son?

He did not ever want to be like his father. He was determined to break the cycle of trauma he experienced from the late Sir Thomas Crane’s harsh parenting approach and avoid repeating it with his son.

But Phillip’s patience was running dry and he did not know what other course to take next.

“Father?” Amanda called.

Phillip blinked himself out of his train of thought to acknowledge his daughter, “Mmm?”

“I am sorry about Oliver,” She apologized sweetly, “And I am sorry if I made you mad,”

Phillip sighed, “Oh, you did nothing of the sort, sweet pea.” He replied back with a gentle smile. “Oliver simply needs to learn a few manners. But you shouldn’t be insulting your brother either,” He stated.

“I know,” She sighed as she picked on her food.

He smiled as he went back to reading.

“Father?”

Philip did not look up, “Yes, daisy?”

“What are you reading?”

“A letter,” Phillip responded.

He grinned as he continued picking up where he left off from Miss Bridgerton’s newest later that arrived in the morning.

…It is my belief that women are far better suited at teaching than men, however, I also believe it is not the only thing women are capable of doing. We are a multifaceted sex that is capable of doing more than just one thing! Women should be allowed to do the very things they teach. What is your opinion on the matter?

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip smiled as he licked his lips as he looked up to stare ahead into the distant wall, pondering how to respond to the philosophical question posed by the remarkably intuitive and recalcitrant minded young lady.

He excused his daughter as she finished her meal and then he got up to make his way to his office to begin jotting down a letter in response.

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

You posed an interesting question. And my answer is this… “If women are expected to do the same work as men, we must teach them the same things,”

And I know what you might be thinking “What the hell is he talking about? A man should teach a woman how to work?” well…Yes! What I am trying to say is, women can desire to learn and work but it’s also the responsibility of men to teach them exactly what work entails because the public and private sector are not easy, especially on women. If we work hand in hand with one another then we can achieve a better future for all of us.

I’d understand if you do not agree,

Yours in friendship,

Kind regards,

Bridgerton House

September 16^th. 1821

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

You posed an interesting question. And my answer is this… “If women are expected to do the same work as men, we must teach them the same things,”

And I know what you might be thinking “What the hell is he blabbering about? A man should teach a woman how to work?” well…Yes! What I am trying to say is, women can desire to learn and work but it’s also the responsibility of men to teach them exactly what work entails because the public and private sector are not easy, especially on women. If we work hand in hand with one another then we can achieve a better future for all of us.

I’d understand if you do not agree,

Yours in friendship,

Kind regards,

Eloise ended the aster flower-pressed letter, sporting a rather peculiar, perplexed and perturbed look on her face.

This was the first time Eloise did not completely know whether she agreed with him on a subject in their seventh month correspondence. Was he wrong? Was he right?

Did she agree with him?

Should men be given the role of teaching women how to navigate the working environment?

Wouldn’t doing that be counterproductive? Wouldn’t that be regressing back to upholding the patriarchy? Wouldn’t that just be conforming to the norms of society yet again?

Although, he did also bring up a counter point that she ought to consider. Women are not experienced of holding any high positions of power in the public or private sector; although men do. Would men be the perfect candidates to show women the ropes of what to really expect in the workforce?

Eloise did aspire to have equality within society. An egalitarian future.

Would not working with likeminded men be a form of egalitarianism?

She gnawed her bottom lip.

“What has got you all in a daze, Eloise?” Kate asked, as she was preoccupied with her mending.

“Men are so puzzling,” Eloise stated. Kate laughed. “No, I’m serious! I can never understand them. I firmly believe we do not need men to survive, but…somehow they are always the reason we are able to live? If that makes any sense.”

Kate smiled, “It is the way of society, I am afraid.”

Eloise groaned, “Does Anthony ever give you grief for your independent thoughts and ideas?”

Kate shook her head, “No. He respects my thoughts and values my opinion. He will not admit it but a lot of the decisions he makes are mine that he passes off as his own.”

Eloise chuckled, “A proud man who takes credit for a woman’s success?”

Kate disagreed, “Not necessarily…Our marriage is a partnership. My thoughts and his thoughts may be separate but our decisions are made as one. He has his own opinions that I consider and implement into our daily life. And sometimes, I have better opinions that I influence in his life.” Kate pestered. Eloise giggled. “More often than not am I the one who gets the final say,” Kate added.

Eloise smiled, although, a frown began to crease on her forehead.

Marriage as a partnership…

Eloise never thought that concept would ever exist.

She needed to respond to Phillip’s letter soon.

                                      ...  ... 

As she sat in the office whilst the rest of the household was preoccupied with other things—Hyacinth was at their mother’s marital home, and Kate and Anthony were out whilst their children had their lessons— Eloise began jotting down her reply,

Dear Sir Phillip,

I do see where you are coming from. Although I may not like to admit it, men do have more experience in the work sector than women do. And I do think if women were given the opportunity to hold high positions of power that they would need the assistance of men I suppose but perhaps they could end up doing a far better job once they learn? A sort of…The student becomes the master situation do you not think?

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Romney Hall

September 18^th, 1821

Phillip returned from tending to his flowers and plants outside when the heavy rain began to pour down.

 Amanda was terrified of the rain so she immediately ran to her father to seek refuge in his arms as soon as the thunder began to rattle the windows and shake the house.

“Father,” She whispered after knocking on the door of his study and pushing it open. “Are you busy?”

“Yes, Amanda,” He sighed. “But I am never too busy for you. What is it? Are you afraid of the rainstorm again?”

The petite little girl nodded her head as she sheepishly swayed her body sideways as she clutched onto her tiny, yellow, soft, comfort blanket that she had since she was an infant.

Thenceforth, a loud bang of the thunder appeared from the heavens, causing the room to shake and Amanda to involuntarily flinch and wince before frustratingly blubbing with sudden tears as she sped right into Phillip’s arms for consolation.

Phillip sighed as he picked her up and set her on his lap; wrapping his arms around her to embrace her as she draped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Shah!” He cooed as he stroked her back. “It’s okay.” He spoke soothingly to her, planting a kiss on her forehead before allowing her to lay her head onto his shoulder.

Sooner or later, she fell asleep as the sobs subsided and the thunderstorm simmered down.

Whilst Amanda slept on his shoulder, Phillip decided to read Eloise’s latest letter response and then ultimately reply to it.

Bond Street, Mayfair, London

September 1821

Dear Sir Phillip,

I do see where you are coming from. Although I may not like to admit it, men do have more experience in the work sector than women do. And I do think if women were given the opportunity to hold high positions of power that they would need the assistance of men I suppose but perhaps they could end up doing a far better job once they learn? A sort of…The student becomes the master situation do you not think?

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

He wrote:

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

I am glad you agree with me. A great female author once said, “ Men and women must be educated, in a great degree, by the opinions and manners of the society they live in.” We live in an imbalanced society with lopsided ideologies. To navigate that we need to work within the confines of what’s afforded to us and try to find common ground within the current society. That’s how change can happen. It happens from within.

Anyway, how are you doing otherwise? I hope you’re enjoying the rain. I myself love the rain; preferring the rainy seasons because it helps the plants grow…but my daughter…Not so much.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Hyde Park

September 20^th, 1821

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

I am glad you agree with me. A great female author once said, “ Men and women must be educated, in a great degree, by the opinions and manners of the society they live in.” We live in an imbalanced society with lopsided ideologies. To navigate that we need to work within the confines of what’s afforded to us and try to find common ground within the current society. That’s how change can happen. It happens from within.

Anyway, how are you doing otherwise? I hope you’re enjoying the rain. I myself love the rain; preferring the rainy seasons because it helps the plants grow…but my daughter…Not so much.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Eloise couldn’t control the blush as she read the words ‘My Dearest Miss Bridgerton’ as she went out promenading alone one morning at the park. It was an endearing way to start off his letters that Eloise did not complain about one bit, funnily enough.

Despite having never met, they had a kind of friendship that seemed to transcend passed formalities. It was comfortable. It was casual. It was friendly. It was easy.

She found herself nodding to a lot of his words in agreement with him. They seemed to be on the same wavelength about a lot of things –which honestly excited and terrified her greatly.

She was pleasantly surprised, however, to read him quoting Mary Wollstonecraft –one of her favorite writers and advocate of women’s rights.

How he even knew who she was, let alone cared to remember a quote of hers, baffled her mind. But he was an educated man. It was not unreasonable to think he knew who she was.

Thereafter, Eloise decided to seek a comfortable and shady spot underneath a tree where she began writing a letter in reply to him.

Dear Sir Phillip,

You read Wollstonecraft? That’s quite fascinating stuff. But unsurprising since you’re a lover of a good quote and who better than to quote the revolutionary woman of the time?

Sorry to hear that your daughter isn’t a fan of the rain. My sister-in-law Kate does not much care for it either. I do not mind the rain to be honest, it allows me time to drink tea and sit by the fireplace as I read a novel. I was reading Mansfield Park the other night. Shared a few chuckles because it was quite a humorous read. I love witty comedic books.

And besides, London has seen a constant state of rain that it has been quite the norm to me. I gather my little brother and sister to tell them horror stories I invented; leaving them prone to nightmares. It is quite hilarious to witness them squirm under their blankets.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Cambridge

September 22^nd, 1821

It was that time of the week where he conducted his one-day lectures of the week at Cambridge University. It was the start of a new university semester season and during his lunch break, Phillip read and responded to Eloise’s latest letter.

…Sorry to hear that your daughter isn’t a fan of the rain. My sister-in-law Kate does not much care for it either. I do not mind the rain to be honest, it allows me time to drink tea and sit by the fireplace as I read a novel. I was reading Mansfield Park the other night. Shared a few chuckles because it was quite a humorous read. I love witty comedic books.

Phillip smiled as she namedropped the book she was currently reading. It did not sound familiar to him but he would surely put it on his reading list.

And besides, London has seen a constant state of rain that it has been quite the norm to me. I gather my little brother and sister around the drawing room to tell them horror stories I invented; leaving them prone to nightmares. It is quite hilarious to witness them squirm under their blankets.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

He chuckled at the last bit. It was a delight to know she seemed incredibly close to her siblings; especially the younger ones. He assumed they were still children judging by the way she talked about them. So, did that mean Eloise was good with children?

St. John’s College

September 29^th, 1821

Eloise attended college for a second time in the week; in disguise obviously and it was a wonder to her that she had not been caught out yet.

The disguise seemed to have been efficient in its job as she has been attending secret lectures for several months.

None of her family members have suspected a thing; which is a marvel in and of itself, since it was incredibly difficult to keep a secret from them for long.

“Elliot!” Eloise’s one and only male friend she had befriended throughout her college adventure, “A bunch of students and housemate friends of mine are hosting a dormitory party to celebrate the start of the new college year. Care to attend?” Francis Ainsworth spoke.

Eloise cleared her throat in a hoarse, gruff way, “Well…uh…I would love to but, I have plans. But thank you, friend.” She spoke in a deep voice imitation.

Francis furrowed his eyebrows, “Your voice cracked for a moment,”

“What?” Eloise said, starting to panic.

“Almost as if you were still experiencing the effects of adolescence.” He teased with a laugh.

Eloise chuckled nervously, “You are funny!” She spoke before clearing her throat and spinning around and walking away.

Whew! That was close. She thought to herself.

As she had her lunch, she decided to read one of Phillip’s letters where he spoke about how science and philosophy related to one another.

…Philosophy has always sought to understand the nature of truth and knowledge, and has often engaged with the findings of science in this pursuit. Science, on the other hand, has benefited from philosophical inquiry by providing framework for understanding and interpreting its own discoveries.

Philosophy and science can meet each other because both use the method of reflective thinking in an attempt to deal with the facts of the world and life. Both display a critical attitude with an open mind and an impartial will, to know the nature of truth…

Hmm…

That left Eloise a lot to think about.

And now she became very interesting in science more than she’d ever been.

Featherington House

September 30th, 1821

Eloise was sitting in the drawing room with her friend Penelope; the both of them reading a book separately enjoying the peace and quiet together.

“Penelope?” Eloise called suddenly, resting her book against her chest.

“Yes, El?”

“You met with Sir Phillip Crane several times before, right?” Eloise questioned.

Penelope frowned, “A handful of times, certainly. Not enough times to build any sort of bond. Although, I do reckon he and Colin are growing closer.”

Eloise smiled.

Something about that made her stomach flutter.

“Why?” Penelope asked.

Eloise shrugged, “Just curious…After Lady Crane’s death, I was curious if you knew how he was coping. What kind of person do you think he is? His demeanor?”

Penelope thought, “I do recall him being quite charming, but also honorable and very kind. I don’t have any negative things to say about him, really.”

Charming.

Honorable.

Kind.

Hmm.

She knew he was the father of Lady Marina Crane’s twin children from when she first entered society; pregnant and all. Eloise remembered hearing from Penelope that Marina’s children’s father had not wanted to accept the responsibility of becoming a parent initially, so did Phillip not want his biological children? Did he want to abandon them?

What changed his mind?

The way he talked about his children, it sounded like he was a present father.

But was it because he genuinely cared and loved them or was it just because it was his obligation as a parent?

Although, many a parents would not care at all about the wellbeing of their children. Phillip Crane did not give off that impression. In fact it was the opposite.

She would have to ask him at some point.

Romney Hall

October 10^th, 1821

The children’s birthday was coming up soon and Phillip was planning to do something special for them although he did not know what.

He decided to consult the advice of Miss Bridgerton in letter form.

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

I am in a pickle and I need your help. The children have a birthday coming up and my dilemma is I have no idea what to do for them. Should I purchase a gift? What type of gift should I get for them? I do not know what they like…

Phillip paused in that moment.

A father who did not know what his own children liked? What would Eloise think of him? She would think him a deficient and unobservant parent.

He sighed as he decided against writing a letter and crumbled the paper up before tossing it into the fireplace in his office.

He slumped back into his chair.

Maybe getting Amanda a new book would do and for Oliver a new toy to occupy him. Yes. That ought to do it.

Regardless, his mind was much more focused on finding a new governess for his children as the clock was ticking for Nurse Millsby’s inevitable, forthcoming retirement and he was still unsuccessful in finding an adequate governess.

Over the past few days alone, he interviewed three women for the job.

One of them did not seem fit to the task of taking care of children as she did not particularly seem friendly enough; and although Phillip did appreciate her no-nonsense approach, he did not think the children would enjoy being around a hostile person.

The second potential governess was seemingly amiable and welcoming. She had all the good qualities of a great governess. She seemed smart, sweet, and maternal. She was also young.

And she was confident.

Perhaps, a bit too confident.

Throughout the whole interview, Phillip noticed her sneaking flirtatious glances at him and slipping several innuendos his way.

Now, Phillip was not the most observant guy when it came to such matters such as women expressing their intentions with him. Most of the time a woman flirting with him went over his head and other times women would get the wrong idea about him flirting with them when he was simply just being courteous and kind.

He certainly hoped he did not give her the impression that he was interested in her throughout this interview. Not only was he not interested in pursuing anything with her, it would be incredibly unprofessional and inappropriate.

“You certainly are beastly for a man,” She remarked, giggling uncontrollably as she ogled him in his outdoor shirt as she arrived when he was working on his garden. “I must say, your chest might be bigger than the bosom of a woman.” She joked.

And at that moment Phillip knew the interview was over.

He chuckled nervously, “Uh, well…That will be all.” He spoke uncomfortably as he stood up to nervously wipe his sweaty palms on his breeches and extended his hand out to her, “Thank you for coming, Miss Lopper.”

“Please, you may call me Veronica.” She said, seductively taking his hand and giving it a shake,

“Miss Veronica—Miss Lopper, I will review your credentials and I will write to back to you shortly on the outcome of the interview.” He said with a small, polite smile. “I will walk you out,”

When she left, he gave his butler and Mr. Carter a distinctive look, “Well, that was the most uncomfortable encounter of epic proportions!”

“She was quite an attractive lass, I will admit.” Gunning laughed, biting his lip.

“Perhaps, you can have her then.” Phillip stated.

Gunning chuckled whilst Miles Carter sighed, shaking his head before flipping over his binder, “We have one more interview tomorrow with Mrs. Aldridge.”

“Mrs.?” Phillip spoke with relief. “Thank god! A married woman!”

“That does not stop most women, sir.” Gunning spoke. “I would know,”

Phillip shook his head, “Ghastly!”

He then retreated to his study again to tend to his accounts. After he completed his work, he took the opportunity to finally read and respond to Miss Bridgerton letter that she sent a few days prior.  

Bond Street, Mayfair, London

October 1821

Dear Sir Phillip,

You write with so much knowledge and wisdom. Forgive me if I speak out of turn here but I cannot help but asking, do you have all your teeth? I am curious! And it’s been something I’ve grappled with all the months of our correspondence.

Phillip laughed; frowning at the peculiarity of her random question.

…Also, I know a great place in London that I know you’ll enjoy. It is a venue where you can give a reading to a big audience. I’ve attended a few of them. Have you been to London?

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip wrote back:

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for the kind words, my dear friend. I try to bestow my wisdom to the best of folk –or ones who desperately need it. I jest! I jest!

And I must say, you have moments where you say the strangest things that have me cackling for days on end. My teeth? I assure you my teeth are very much in tact, Miss Bridgerton. I have 12 or 14 molars, 8 premolars, 8 incisors and 4 canines (they do look quite sharp though. Quite catlike which is odd but great for meat chomping to be sure)…so I hope you do sleep well at night knowing that I have teeth. Strong teeth, I might add! What next are you interested in finding out? Do I have a hairy mole?

And I have been to London a few times but I do not frequently go there though. I much prefer the confines and the serenity of the nature in the countryside. But I will take you up on the offer sometime. Attending a reading sounds like most fun indeed.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane 

Anderson House

October 11^th, 1821

Eloise was reading Phillip’s letters as she got dressed and prepared for tonight’s dinner with the help of her lady’s maid.

Attached to the letter was a beautiful, fragrant marigold blossom, a flower she rarely saw but was happy to see was in his garden.

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

Thank you for the kind words, my dear friend. I try to bestow my wisdom to the best of folk –or ones who desperately need it. I jest! I jest!

Eloise giggled softly, biting her bottom lip as she continued reading:

And I must say, you have moments where you say the strangest things that have me cackling for days on end. My teeth? I assure you my teeth are very much in tact, Miss Bridgerton. I have 12 or 14 molars, 8 premolars, 8 incisors and 4 canines (they do look quite sharp though. Quite catlike which is odd but great for meat chomping to be sure)…so I hope you do sleep well at night knowing that I have teeth. Strong teeth, I might add! What next are you interested in finding out? Do I have a hairy mole?

She rolled her eyes as her laughter increased, so much so, an unladylike snort escaped her lips; causing her lady’s maid to look at her strangely.

“Sorry,” She apologized, trying to stifle her laughs. “Do not mind me,” She cackled, waving at her before resuming her reading of the letter.

And I have been to London a few times but I do not frequently go there though. I much prefer the confines and the serenity of the nature in the countryside. But I will take you up on the offer sometime. Attending a reading sounds like most fun indeed.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Eloise couldn’t help the large, wide, joyful grin from crinkling her face and her eyes.

Phillip was not only a captivating person to share ideas and thoughts with, he was exceptionally funny and witty, with a wicked sense of humor that only Eloise could relate to so well.

She has had more gaffs and banter with him than anyone in her life outside of her immediate family members.

She liked that.

She liked it a lot.

After rereading and meditating on the first letter, she quickly and eagerly went on to read the accompanying letter.

My Dearest Miss Bridgerton,

Oh! Before I forget, I just wished to say…I really do enjoy writing to you. I’ve said it many times, I know but it rings true. You have become an unlikely friend in this turbulent time of my life and I value your friendship dearly. Although we have never formally met, I feel like you know me so well and I feel as though I know you as well. I enjoy our banter and your insightful mind. You’re a good friend, Miss Bridgerton.

Yours truly,

Phillip Crane

It was so stupid in Eloise’s mind but…Eloise so wished to meet him in that moment.

She knew the written version of the man that was Phillip Crane but she was so curious to meet him in person. To know what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he smelled like…

No…

Maybe not what he smelled like. That would be an odd way to think about a friend.’

However, the point still stands.

The not knowing was frustrating. Who was the man behind the quill?

And it was not like Eloise did not know where he lived.

Romney Hall was not too far from London, only a six or seven hour carriage drive.

And it was even closer to Aubrey Hall.

But…

But did Phillip share the same sentiments? Did he wish to meet her as much as she wished to meet him?

“Eloise,” She heard her mother call out to her; suddenly pulling her away from her train of thought as she entered the room.

Eloise looked up through her mirror to see the reflection of her mother looking resplendent in a pale purple-lavender chiffon dress for this evening’s festivities.

“Mother,” Eloise sighed as she folded her letters neatly just as the lady’s maid finished dressing her up and left the room. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Violet sighed, “Eloise, can a mother not wish to spend some quality time with their daughter without any ulterior motives whatsoever?”

Eloise smiled, politely as she slipped her letters in the drawers before turning around focus her attention on her mother, “Forgive me, mother. Yes! How are you?”

Violet shrugged, “Well, I am slightly anxious to be hosting my first dinner of the year with a large audience.”

Eloise scoffed, “You have had decades of experience, I’m sure it’ll go down swimmingly.” She stated, adjusting her white satin gloves.

“I know. I know.” Violet spoke. “It is just that we are hosting Lord Everton and his family for the first time and Hyacinth has been on my neck about it for days on end; ensuring it all goes off without a hitch. She is quite taken with the young Earl, I must say.”

Eloise nodded, “I suppose you’ll be planning another wedding soon, to be sure if this ends up becoming a success?” Eloise said.

Violet looked at her, blinking, “Yes…” She whispered sadly. “Yes, I suppose it is exciting times; although I am glad she is taking her time and not rushing into it. I’m sure you’d appreciate that too?”

Eloise looked at her with a frown, “Why would you assume that?”

“I am just saying, you look out for your youngest sister. You have her best interest at heart,” She spoke. “And seeing as you’ve made the decision to wait before you wed yourself, I would think that influenced Hyacinth’s—”

“Mother, I am not ‘waiting’ for marriage,” Eloise explained for what felt like the umpteenth time. “I have simply decided to remain unwed for the rest of my life and I am content with that,” She said as she walked passed her.

Violet exhaled a breath as she laid her hand against her stomach, “I understand.” She spoke.

Eloise nodded.

“I understand your stance in regards to marriage and I respect it. Believe me!" Violet spoke. "You are not like the rest of your sisters nor do I expect you to be,”

Eloise glared at her, cocking an eyebrow, “Are you quite sure about that?”

“Admittedly, in the past I did at times coddle you a bit and maybe even tried to coax you but I soon realized that nothing would persuade you to see things my way nor should you. You are not me. You are not Daphne. You are Eloise and it’s taken me a while to come to grips with that but I do understand,” Violet spoke as she sauntered to her daughter. “The love I shared with your father is unlike the love Anthony has for Kate, nor is it like the love Daphne has for Simon or Benedict for Sophie or Colin for Penelope. Each one of them has a different love story to tell; each of them unique in their own way but the fundamental factor joining them together is the bond of love and that is all I ever wanted for my children…”

Eloise stared into her mother’s glistening eyes as Violet took both of her hands to squeeze them as she gazed into her blue pools.

“You do not seek a husband; and although I do respect that choice. It breaks my heart that you do not see yourself worthy of being loved at all…" Violet expressed as she rested her hand on her chest. "Love. Romantic love can be a beautiful, beautiful thing if you let it into your life.”

Eloise rolled her eyes, “Mama—It is not that I do not believe I am worthy of love. I believe in love. But a different kind of love…” She stated. “Self-love. I love myself enough to be happy and content with being alone.”

If one didn’t have love, was it better, then, to be alone? Eloise thought to herself.

Violet nodded, “Very well, but I do sincerely hope you are not closing the door completely in case someone does come along. Someone who interests you. Someone you connect to on a cerebral level –it does not even need to be an immediate passionate love affair that your siblings experience but I know how you love connecting to people on an intellectual level. That is the perfect foundation for a spark to ignite.”

“A spark?”

Violet nodded, “Well…Yes? The spark that one feels at the pit of their stomach. The kind of spark that sends butterfly-like flutters in your gut, so much so it leaves you almost nauseated because you cannot quite describe the sensation. The spark that compels you to reach out and touch the person despite distance separating you apart. Whatever spark you may feel for another person… hold onto it and never let go.” She urged.

Eloise thought about what she said.

Did she ever experience that spark her mother was rambling on about?

Normally, Eloise would say no but…she can unequivocally attest that she somewhat knows the feeling she is talking about.

She started to feel it a few weeks ago. And she felt it again today.

That sickly feeling at the pit of her stomach; it was so visceral that the only thing she wished to do was to throw up.

And that feeling terrified her to her core.

“I—I don’t know, mother.” She frustratingly groaned. “I don’t know if I want to experience that.”

Violet smiled as if she figured it out based on her daughter’s reaction that she did experience it, “Falling in love is a rather terrifying sensation.” She explained, “But love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.”

Eloise’s breath hitched as she realized she was holding her breath.

“Your heart may fall in love before your mind even realized it happened. That’s power in love, Eloise.” Violet spoke. “And I would hate for you to never experience that. And all the pleasures that come with it….” She spoke the last part with a soft, emphasized whisper through her eyes.

“The pleasures?”

Violet smiled, “You are well beyond your years as an adult, and there’s certain…aspects of a relationship that bring about a euphoric sense of pleasure that make being in love and being loved a wonderful thing.” She finished before walking away.

Leaving Eloise dazed in confusion and conflicted with varied emotions.

… …

The Anderson’s hosted a dinner that consisted of several key guests; Lord Hector Everton and his mother Lady Gretchen Everton, Lady Danbury and her grandson Gareth St. Clair (who returned from university for the weekend with Gregory), Lord Anderson’s youngest daughter Zara also joined the party, and Francesca also returned from Scotland to visit Violet for a few weeks alongside her best friend Michaela.

Eloise was surprised to see Violet also invited Lord Debling, his mother Lady Debling and his younger sister Annabeth Debling to the dinner. She wondered if there was a particular reason she had done so, as she was almost certain she had not interacted with Lord Debling ever.

"Thank you for inviting us to the dinner, Lord and Lady Anderson!" Lady Debling spoke. 

"Yes! You have a lovely home." Young Annabeth Debling added, smiling back at her older brother who nodded back in agreement. 

"You're very kind," Marcus Anderson answered. "My wife makes an excellent hostess," 

Violet giggled, tapping her husband's hand, "You are too kind, love." She stated. "Thank you all for coming!" 

Gareth spoke, "Of course! Anything for my most gracious, lovely, beautiful aunt." He charmed. 

Hyacinth rolled her eyes whilst the rest of the guests all laughed at his wooing words. 

"Forgive me for being forward but may you explain to me how you are all related?" Annabeth asked. 

"Well, Lord Anderson is my great-uncle from my mother's side." Gareth answered. "He's my grandmother's brother," 

Lady Danbury smiled at her favorite grandson, "Unfortunately, so," 

A few chuckles followed. 

"He's my father," Zara spoke, smiling at him. "And Lady Danbury is my aunt!"

"Wow," Annabeth remarked. 

"I will draw you up a more accurate family tree if you'd like," Gareth whispered to her, leaning in and smirking flirtatiously at the young debutant. 

Annabeth Debling smiled as she blushed and batted her eyes at him, "I'd like that very much! Would certainly help connect the dots!" 

Gareth smirked, "I look forward to it," 

Annabeth giggled incessantly. 

Hyacinth cleared her throat as she went to have a sip of her drink, "My apologies," She muttered. 

"And my mother married Lord Anderson which connects the Bridgertons with the Anderson and Danbury family," Gregory responded. 

"We always considered ourselves family, Lady Violet and I but now we are bound together in all aspects of the word." Lady Danbury interjected. "What a lovely turn of events, wouldn't you agree, Lady Violet?" 

"Indeed, Lady Danbury." Violet smiled. "We have come a long way!" 

Eloise smiled at the exchange. Lady Danbury and her mother had long sustained and maintained a friendship that transcended decades and decades. The vast age gap between the two of them was never a factor in their tightly-bound bond. 

And now they were family for life. 

“This Shepherd’s pie is quite delicious, I must say, Lady Anderson.” Lord Everton remarked, glancing back at Hyacinth who sat beside him as he tried to charm her mother.

“Indeed. And the cottage pie! You must give us your cook’s recipe,” Lady Everton spoke.

“That is very kind. I will have my cooks write it up for you before you leave.” Violet responded. “So, Lord Everton, I hear from Hyacinth that you went to Harrow’s?”

“Mmm, yes!” Lord Everton answered. “An excellent school,”

“It is Eton’s rivalling college is it not?” Violet questioned, glancing back at her son. “Gregory would not hear anything about Harrow when we were sending him to Eton.”

“That’s because Eton is the best of the best.” Gregory stated.

“The crème of the crop! Harrow does not compete,” Gareth added.

“I don’t remember that when our rowing team destroys your school every year,” Lord Everton teased.

Gareth gave him a look and a chuckle, “And what about the other sports? Who are the victor then?”

Hyacinth glared at him, before turning back to Hector, “Well, I for one, much prefer Harrow College.” She told him with a smile.

Gareth snickered, “Why? You haven’t even been to the school,”

“No! But it certainly sounds like a much more respectable establishment than Eton,” Hyacinth stated. “Not to mention it’s where my brother isn’t,”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “I have not been to Eton College in two years, sister. I am an Oxford University student now,”

“And the fact that you even got into a university is a marvel and a miracle in itself,” Hyacinth joked.

Gregory mimicked her words in a mocking, nasally vocal fashion. 

Lord Everton laughed.

“Hyacinth!” Violet scolded.

Eloise shook her head, although she noticed at the corner of her eye, Gareth St. Clair sneaking a rather interesting look at Hyacinth; almost as though he was eyeballing her, scrutinizing her and gawking at her with a kittenish, amorous flare.

Hyacinth tried to ignore him but she couldn’t help herself falling prey to his whims because she locked eyes with him and blushed; instantly stumbling on her words as she cleared her throat, “Um…Michaela! H—How was your trip t-to…Where be it again you traveled to?”

“China,” Michaela spoke. “It was a life-changing experience. I enjoyed some delicious cuisine and delicacies, met some fascinating people as well.” She stated.

Francesca beamed widely at her.

“Well, we are certainly thrilled you are back.” Violet said.

“Indeed,” Marcus agreed. “Francesca would not stop speaking about your return to those who wished to hear it,”

The entire party of guest chuckled whilst Francesca sheepishly smiled as her cheeks burned a deep scarlet red as Michaela glanced back at her.

“Is that so?” Michaela muttered in a teasing tone.

“U-uh well, you know, little John did miss his favorite aunt.” Francesca tried to cover up.

“So, you did not miss me?” Michaela teased, smirking at her.

Francesca’s blush grew wider, “N-No! I mean, yes! I did! We all did.” She stammered on her words; reticently slipping into silence.

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows as she scrutinized the exchange. She was the only one who noticed it but the undertones of the interaction and the way they looked at each other felt very coquettish; with Michaela behaving in her usually playful, come-hither manner which wasn’t a surprise to Eloise because that’s how she normally behaved around everyone, however, it was the way Francesca responded to her that raised suspicion.

Her voice had that kittenish quality that she hadn’t ever seen in her sister ever.

“Eloise,” Violet pulled her out of her train of thought. Eloise turned to her. “Lord Debling has shared to me he wishes to gather a new collection of books he would like to read. Perhaps you can give him some of your personal recommendations? Perhaps on a promenade?” Violet slipped the last bit in slyly and quietly as she took a quick sip of her wine.

Eloise cocked her eyebrow at her mom and rolled her eyes before turning her attention to Debling, “I will write a list up for you,”

Lord Debling smiled as he drank his champagne, “Looking forward to it,” He said with a nod.

The evening’s dinner festivities soon ended and Eloise retreated to her room she stayed in whenever she visited her mother and stepfather; and she spent the remainder of the night responding to Sir Phillip’s two letters.

Dear Sir Phillip,

In response to your first letter, do not get too cocky, okay? Being wise signifies age by the way so perhaps my calling you wise is not quite the compliment you think it is.

She teased him as she wrote the words; practically on the verge of giggling inconsolably at the thought of him laughing along with her when he read the letter.

And I do not appreciate your mocking tone, sir! You have teeth! I am glad! I only worried you did not because you mentioned you have always had a penchant for sweets and I wondered if they rotted over the years.

In all seriousness, you should visit the joint at some point. Maybe we can visit it together? I would very much like to meet the man behind the quill. The man with a full set of teeth and who is not wise at all ;).

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton 

She then wrote an accompanying letter in response to his second one.

Dear Sir Phillip,

I share the same sentiments as you, Sir Phillip. Writing with you has been one of the few greatest past times of the past several months. With everyone in my life either married or having children, I will admit it has left me rather lonely, I suppose. Not to say I despise the loneliness, but I have been known to be quite the talker so…It is nice to know you aren’t fazed by my constant yapping.

Yours truly,

Eloise Bridgerton

After sealing the letters, she smiled as she rested them against her chest before slipping them into her drawers where she knew they would be safe.

Romney Hall

November 15^th, 1821

Phillip was working in his greenhouse yet again in the morning, but this time with a guest; his daughter –who was eager to see what he was up to with his plants and assist in any way that she could.

“Be careful not to spill the soil as you refill the pots, sweet pea,” He instructed his daughter. “Use the small hand shovel to scoop up the soil from the bag,”

“All right, father.” Amanda stated before reaching for the small shovel and scooping up a portion of the soil, “Is this enough?”

He smiled, “Yes! That is quite perfect. Now you carefully throw it into the flowerpots until it’s sufficiently filled and then thereafter you will layer the heap by patting it with the shovel or your hands,”

Amanda giggled, “I like planting with you, father.”

Phillip smiled, “Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” He stated before writing something down in his notebook.

“Father?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you ever remarry?”

Phillip turned to her with confused eyes, “What brought you to ask such a question?”

“I overheard you speaking with Mr. Carter about marrying again,”

Phillip sighed.

His children have now been accustomed to eavesdropping it seemed. He would remember to be more discreet in his location when having private conversations.

“Those conversations are not for your ears,” He stated. “But no I do not wish to remarry. At least not right now. Why? Do you want me to?”

She shook her head vigorously, “No! I like it just the three of us.”

He looked down at her with pained eyes.

Did she really mean that?

He did not know how to take that revelation. He believed the children did deserve to have a mother who would care for them but he knew nobody would ever replace Marina and hearing one of his children confirm his concerns sort of solidified the fact that the children themselves did not want someone else to replace Marina either.

So, that meant that he would need to become even more of a permanent present fixture in his children’s live, now more than ever before.

But with the difficulty of finding an adequate governess replacement for Nurse Millsby weighing him down and beleaguering his mind; he did not know where else to turn to.

Then he recalled the letter he received in the morning from Miss Bridgerton that piqued his interest.

Dear Sir Phillip,

…I so wish to work! Any work will do. I just wish to experience earning my own salary so that I may be able to live independently from my eldest brother’s funds and perhaps even find myself a nice, quaint apartment in the city. A woman of my age should have her own place, should she not?

Hmm…

Later that night, he decided to write to Miss Bridgerton again:

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I understand the frustration of having to constantly seek the viscount’s approval constantly despite you clearly being of the age where you wish to be able to take care of yourself but I also do understand where your brother’s coming from. If it was my sister I would not want to send her off into the world without some form of protection. The world is unforgiving for a woman, an unmarried one at that.

Regardless, I do understand your desire for freedom from your family.

I am looking for a new governess for my children. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in filling the job post? Help a poor, father out will you?

Of course, I am joking but I will say, it has proven to be difficult to find an adequate replacement for my current governess who is set to retire in a few months next year. I’m sure I will find someone soon though, at the final hour.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

Kensington

December 22^nd, 1821

Eloise was visiting her working friends at Kensington –who she hasn’t seen much in recent months due to the family of the household returning from their long traveling stint in the abroad and now they were working around the clock.

Today, however, was one of the rare occasions where they were all free to spend time with her.

However, today was no day for jubilant, lighthearted chatter as they revealed some piece of information and news that left Eloise positively unnerved.

“Are you sure?”

Gladys nodded, “Yes! A little birdie told me that the dean of St. John’s College has heard that an imposter has been disguising themselves as a student of the college for several months now and they’re currently rooting through all the dormitories to find them. I hear they’re involving the Queen’s guards. This could result in a felony!”

“Treason!” Esmeralda added.

“A prison sentence!” Naomi added.

Anxiously, Eloise shot up from her chair to begin nervously prancing and pacing up and down the room as her hands threaded through her head.

“This is bad! This is very, very bad!” She yelped as her fingers trembled. “I knew this would happen!”

“What do we do?” Reginald questioned, his hand on Gladys’ back.

Gladys shrugged, “I do not know,” She mumbled. “This is my fault! I am sorry, Eloise. It was stupid of me to even suggest this in the first place. I assure you I did not mean to put you in this situation.”

“No—Don’t be ridiculous, Gladys! This is my mess!” Eloise stated. “This was my decision and I have to suffer the consequences,”

 Eloise sighed, as she nervously twitched as she brought her fingers to her mouth and began gnawing at her nails, “Okay. Okay! Perhaps, they might not find the imposter a-and they will give up the search? If I stop attending the school, surely they would realize they were wrong?”

“The problem is, you are enrolled in the school. We made documentation under the alias Elliot Bosworth.”

“Yes! But she is not actually enrolled,” Naomi added. “And besides, Elliot Bosworth is a common English name. I am positive there is at least one or two who share a similar name.”

“We cannot rely on that hypothesis, Naomi!” Esmeralda stated. “Did anyone raise suspicions from your time there?”

Eloise shook her head before she halted in her tracks as a memory resurfaced, “Oh no! Francis Ainsworth! A classmate of mine who I sat with regularly…He noted my voice cracking several times.”

“Damn it,” Reginald cussed.

Eloise collapsed onto her seat and groaned, “I do not know what to do.”

Then she noted a letter she received from Sir Phillip a month prior where he made a joking suggestion that she worked for him.  

I am looking for a new governess for my children. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in filling the job post? Help a poor, father out will you?

Of course, I am joking but I will say, it has proven to be difficult to find an adequate replacement for my current governess who is set to retire in a few months next year. I’m sure I will find someone soon though, at the final hour.

Could that be her ticket free?

Although, she does not see herself as a governess or working with children, perhaps working for Phillip will provide her the refuge she needs to lay low and move stealthily and inconspicuously out of the city to avoid being caught out?

Aubrey Hall

February 2^nd, 1822

It had been a little over a month since Eloise found out that the college she illegally attended last year found a secret rat pretending to be a student of the school.

Thankfully, it did not circle back to her but she has since stopped attending the school and kept a relatively low profile; resorting to staying at home than going out.

But tonight was different.

Anthony and Kate were hosting a ball to kick off the new social season; a departure from the usual ball hosted by Lady Danbury and the family were required to all be present for it.

Eloise was not too thrilled to do so for an array of reasons but one major one was that she would now have to contend with being inspected; leaving her paranoid and on edge all night long.

Her sister Daphne noticed her agitation and approached her.

“Are you quite well, El?” She asked.

“Hmm?” Eloise hummed. “Yes! I am! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You look like you are about to get sick,” Daphne remarked. “Are you sure you do not wish to have a drink of water?”

“Erm…” Eloise deliberated as she looked around the room to see the couples dancing to the string quartet arrangement. “Yes, I—I think I would like that very much.”

Daphne smiled before fetching her a glass.

Eloise then inhaled another shaky breath as she stood on the outskirts of the ballroom floor, examining the crowd of guests mingling and dancing.

Her siblings were all enjoying the company of their spouses as they showcased their dance moves with the romantic waltz display; moving and floating together in unison, love and passion evident on their faces.

They were all so blissfully happy.

It nauseated her.

But that had more to do with other contributing factors than just them. 

Eloise couldn’t help but feel everyone in the room had a target on her back. She had spent the last month or so being hyper paranoid that somebody would expose her. She did not know who else to trust; to even confide in about this sudden development.

If the queen’s guards caught her, she would be thrown in jail. Not to mention her family would go absolutely mental over the fact that she had spent the better part of eight months secretly attending lectures without their knowing. Anthony would blow a gasket; she almost felt much safer in a prison cell than being on the receiving end of Anthony’s wrath.

She needed to seek refuge.

Benedict would understand but he wouldn’t be comfortable with aiding and abetting a criminal!

Okay! Maybe she was exaggerating. She was no criminal but…what she has done was incriminating.

She could rely on Penelope; although Colin cannot keep a secret to save his life and Anthony was literally right across the road from Featherington House.

No! Eloise needed to seek refuge further away from the city. Further away from London where her mother, her brothers and the guards would not find her.

With each day that passed by, the thought of accepting Phillip’s offer to work for him –albeit, it was a joking offer – sounded like a tantalizing prospect.

She never saw herself as a governess but it was not like she had many work opportunities lining up for her anyway. 

She worked for her brother which earned her some kind of small income but still, it wasn't enough to supplement her desires. 

But was it reckless of her to travel to his home without having met him? How could she show up to a stranger’s home?

To be fair, Phillip was not completely a stranger. Although they have never met, she knows several people in her life who have met him and can attest to him being a standup gentleman.

Eloise had been corresponding with Sir Phillip for a year and he seemed to already know her more than anyone else in her life did. He understood her.

Perhaps, working for him would not be a bad prospect? She may not particularly be a fan of children, but she would compromise and put aside her reservations if it meant she could find some solace; a sanctuary, an asylum, a protection from the life in the city that would continue to haunt her.

Her mother’s perpetual cajoling, her eldest brother’s overbearing and controlling nature, her youngest sister's endless deluge of potential suitors coming in and out of the house, her siblings living lives that she simply cannot relate to; each and every one of them living in marital bliss and experiencing the joys of parenthood.

Several days ago, Anthony and Kate announced they were with child for a third time and a few weeks prior, Benedict and Sophie announced they were pregnant as well.

And if that wasn't enough, her friend Gladys and Reginald confirmed their engagement.

Hyacinth was on the verge of accepting a proposal to Lord Everton –although, she wondered whether her strange situation or friendship with Gareth St. Clair would interfere with that from happening.

Eloise could not help but feel pressured by those around her to pursue a similar path in life and she was not sure she was ready for that. She wanted something else. Something greater.

And…

And the fact that she has remained in a stagnant position for all these years; never truly moving forward in her pursuit for a more meaningful life…

It has left her rather panic-stricken. It left her stranded with nowhere to go and no one to turn to.

She could not fathom spending another second in the city where all these reminders of what a truly miserable life she’s leading was always around her.

She had to make an escape.

And she had to make that great escape fast.

As Daphne returned with a glass of water in her grasp, she watched her mother approaching with her arm draped around Lord Debling.

Oh, no! Here we go again!

Her mother was playing matchmaker again.

Eloise’s eyes glanced from her mother and Lord Debling, over to where The Queen who was sat on her makeshift throne, inspecting the entire party of guests before her eyes locked with Eloise.

Oh! Did she know?

Did she figure it out? Was she the one who employed her guards to search for the imposter?

Eloise quickly shifted her gaze away from Her Majesty and onto her siblings who looked so bloody happy still; so blissfully besotted with their spouses and their lives as married couples.

And then she looked over to Daphne; who had always been the picture and epitome of grace, beauty, demure, elegance and ladylikeness that fit the mold of the ton.

She was the perfect debutante, the perfect daughter, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect everything.

She was the perfect image of what a woman in society ought to be, and it was an image Eloise would never relate to.

Could never relate to.

Married couples. Cajoling mother. Perfect families. Perfect daughters. Established households.

Established lives….

“Eloise?” Daphne called.

Eloise shook her head, snapping back to reality and offering a small smile to her older sister, “Thank you,” She said, taking the glass and chugging the entire glass until its last drop.

“Are you sure you are doing well?”

“Yes,” She answered. Then looked over to see her mother edging closer. “No—I think I am going to head back home. I am not feeling quite well. I think I need some rest.”

“Perhaps that is wise,” Daphne stated. “Get well soon. Be safe!”

“Thank you.” She told her as she sauntered away. “Tell mother I will be fine and that she needn’t worry about spoiling her evening.”

Daphne nodded, before shrugging and walking away.

Eloise exhaled a shaky breath as she speedily made a quick exit out of the ball and straight ahead to her bedroom where she immediately launched for a rapid search for a suitcase and began shoving several articles of clothing, enough to carry her through the journey for at least a few day days, maybe a week.

She had no idea.

All she knew was she needed to get out of there immediately.

When she was done, she checked if the coast was clear of anybody she knew with nosy eyes before she snuck out of the house through the backdoor where she ordered her footman to be.

The second she caught whiff of the fresh air, she breathed in and out, absorbing all the oxygen and air as she descended the steps with her dress hoisted up and carried her suitcase.

“Miss Eloise, are you retreating for the evening?” Footman John said to her. “What is the luggage for?” He asked, gesturing to her luggage.

“Take me away from here!” She ordered, marching ahead of him as she went to reach for the carriage door and flinging it open herself.

“Where would you like to go?”

Eloise shrugged, “I don’t know…” She paused as she glanced back at her family home that she's known for all her life.

Wait.

She did know where she wanted to go.

“Take me to Romney Hall,”

Chapter Text

But if you send for me, you know I'll come
And if you call for me, you know I'll run
I'll run to you, I'll run to you
I'll run, run, run
I'll come to you, I'll come to you
I'll come, come, come
Oh-oh oh, oh-oh oh

The power of youth is on my mind
Sunsets, small town, I'm out of time
Will you still love me when I shine
From words but not from beauty
My father's love was always strong
My mother's glamour lives on and on
Yet still inside, I felt alone
For reasons unknown to me

But if you send for me, you know I'll come
And if you call for me, you know I'll run
I'll run to you, I'll run to you
I'll run, run, run
I'll come to you, I'll come to you
I'll come, come, come
Oh-oh oh, oh-oh oh

Old Money – Lana Del Rey (string quarter violin instrumental)

CHAPTER 10

February 2^nd, 1822

Romney Hall

The journey to Romney Hall was not a long one.

Romney Hall was only a three hour carriage drive from Aubrey Hall; less than two and a half hours on a good horse day. However, Eloise could not help feeling anxious to arrive there as soon as possible.

She left Anthony and Kate’s ball with no actual plan. Although, she did initially brush off Phillip’s joking offer to work for him –she began taking it seriously by carefully considering it, however, since the offer symbolized her potential lifeline – she did not actively plan to impulsively pack her luggage and leave all she had ever known to meet a man she had never met.

Escaping was not premeditated. But it was inevitable.

Consciously, Eloise had thought she would spend the remainder of the evening at Aubrey Hall, curled up in her bedchamber reading a book after the ball; a typical evening for her in the country. But that clearly did not happen.

Goodness, if she’d known it would be this easy to make her own way in the world, she would have done so years ago. It would have saved her many years of grief and strife if she had actually seized the opportunity to take charge of her future and in point of fact, taking action in following her dreams instead of making empty, lateral words with no follow through.

But now here she was, rolling toward Romney Hall, rolling toward destiny, she supposed – or hoped it would be destiny – with nothing but a few changes of clothing and a stack of letters written to her by a man she had never met.

A man who she had grown to have a steady friendship and someone she thought she could rely on even still.

It was thrilling.

Not, it was mortifying.

It was, quite literally, the most imprudent, maybe even reckless thing she’d ever done in her life –and she has had her fair share of making thoughtless and foolish decisions in her day.

This could go completely wrong.

Or…

Perhaps, meeting Sir Phillip would be a good thing. Perhaps meeting him would end up being the key to the kind of life she had always dreamed for herself.

Perhaps this might be her one chance to actually have the full freedom and independence she so desired. A chance to build a name for herself.

She could work for Phillip for a few months, perhaps a year, then she would have generated enough income to purchase a small house out in the countryside or the city and use it as an investment before she uprooted her life and moved to the Americas where she can live her life as a single woman out in the world.

She would miss her family greatly though. But they would surely understand wouldn’t they? They were all wrapped up in their own happiness that they probably wouldn’t even notice she was gone…

Her mother would notice though.

Eloise grimaced.

She was growing fanciful; thinking and fantasizing far too much for her own good. That was a terrible sign. She needed to approach this sudden adventure with all the practicality and pragmatism with which she always tried to make her decisions as of late.

There was still time to turn around.

Nobody would be the wiser. The ball would be continuing way into the wee hours of the morning. Nobody would notice Eloise went missing or ran away. For all they knew, Eloise just got sick and retreated to her bedchamber. There was still time to change course.

Besides, what did she know about this man, really?

Sure!

She can gauge his personality and his mental state through the letters he sent to her and he has shared quite a lot over the course of a year’s correspondence.

But she had not met him before.

She does not know what he looked like.

She does not know what he sounded like.

Throughout the duration of their friendship, she had imagined him in her head what he might look like. All she knew about him was that he had brown hair and that he had teeth.

Correction: He had all of his teeth.

Eloise giggled softly at the thought as she glanced out the window, as if that might possibly give her an indication as to where they were on the road.

She watched the carriage pass a sign that had a crest on it; it looked like a family emblem or coat of arms with rich history, but the image of a crane bird on it confirmed to her that they were getting very close.

Frowning, she glanced back down at the open paper in her lap; it was his last letter he sent to her. She reread it and then refolded Sir Phillip’s letter before slipping it back into the ribbon and string tied bundle she kept in her valise, she then tapped her fingers against her thighs in a pensive gesture.

Eloise was nervous and she had every reason to be.

She left her home and all that was familiar to her.

She left her family with no announcement or declaration of her departure.

She was traveling halfway across country and no one knew.

Nobody.

Not even Sir Phillip himself.

In her haste to leave Aubrey Hall, she had neglected to inform him of her coming. It wasn’t that she’d forgotten; rather, it was such an abrupt and spontaneous decision she’d made that there would not be any time to inform him.

How would he react?

Surely, she expects him to be surprised, perhaps a bit peeved that she arrived in the middle of the night with no notice, it wasn’t proper etiquette to be sure.

Nonetheless, she hoped he was thrilled? He seemed like such a cheerful, kind man through the letters.

And they were friends.

She was excited to meet her friend in person. He must share the same excitement as well, right?

Sir Phillip was, in his own strange way, hers. The one thing she’d never had to share with anyone. His letters were bundled and tied with a purple ribbon, hidden away in a box beneath her bed in her bedchamber at Aubrey Hall, tucked underneath all the piles of stationery she used for her many letters to him over the course of their one year correspondence.

He was her secret. Hers.

She had never met him before; there was no way to feasibly see him or touch him. To her, he was an intangible object and because of that, she was able to tangentially concoct an idea of him in her mind; using his letters as the bones and then fleshing him out as she saw fit. She did not conceive a perfect man; but in her imagination Sir Phillip was pretty darn close. 

He was intelligent, open-minded, reasonable, witty, understanding and just. He would make an excellent employer to work for to be sure.

He sought out for help and Eloise was willing to offer it in exchange for her independence. He would be happy to see her.

Wouldn’t he?

Greenhouse

It was a chilly winter’s evening, but Phillip did not seem the least bit bothered by it as he was hauled up in his greenhouse, studying his plants while his children were asleep and the household was getting ready for the end of their working day.

The last few months –or year really but the last few months in particular – was a difficult and fraught period for Sir Phillip’s life.

He was still battling the courts as Marina’s father threatened to take legal action against him in exchange for an annual monetary allowance and Phillip would not be easily coerced into giving into his demands but in doing so it has left him in constant stress over meetings with his solicitors and barristers who are giving him the ultimatum of remarrying in order to make this problem go away or give into the man’s requests –and Phillip was not ready to pursue either of those outcomes.

He has lost several of his staff recently due to various reasons; his head housekeeper Mrs. Hurley, who had worked for him for years, requested a temporary leave of absence to mourn the loss of her husband –and she was a valued member of the household but in her absence he promoted Miss Clarisse as head housekeeper who he gathered had more experience in the job than the other maids and servants.

And Mrs. Hurley personally vouched for her so he supposed it was a reasonable replacement.

But the choice has proven to be a contentious one among the young household maids because it has since caused a lot of upheaval and drama –although they were not privy to Phillip, he did hear whispered conversations between several maids as they expressed their dislike for Miss Clarisse. He did not know what goes behind women’s trivial gossip but he was grateful to not be part of it and kept a distance from all of it. 

Phillip also experienced a staff turnover when he had to let go of several of his cooks who found new jobs at a Duke’s estate in Surrey. The Duke poached his cooks with a handsome salary increase that was way out of the range Phillip was willing to give out himself. Now the household was left with two cooks who were working five times harder than they did when there were six.

And throughout the last six months, Phillip had been interviewing several candidates to take over from Nurse Millsby as governess of the twins. None of his meetings have been a good fit for the family.

One would say he was incredibly cautious and another could say he was being incredibly picky. Phillip did not care. He valued his children’s education. He did not want the next person he chose to be someone who would not give their best in teaching his children.

Perhaps, it had a lot to do with his trust issues he’s experienced throughout his life. He did not know.

Nurse Millsby was a credit to the family and the art of teaching, but a lot of her methods are dated and he was seeking for a more modern approach.

Regardless, Mrs. Millsby was always going to be a valued member of the family and it would be hard to let her go in the coming months. The children would miss her terribly…

The children…

Oh, what another difficult situation he was put under with those two.

Over the months, the children have left Phillip in a constant state of worry. Oliver was behaving erratic, hyper-energetic and overstimulated, troublesome and disobedient; as if he was a rebellious zealot to every rule of the household. He has not been doing well in his lessons; and he continuously talks back to his authority figures in the house.

Amanda, however, well…He had nothing bad to say about her behavior. She did nothing wrong. She did nothing.

And that was the problem.

She was obedient and did what she was told but, something was off with her. She appeared to be defeated. Gone were the days of the cherry, smiley little girl who greeted him every morning with a smile and a hug; and although she does hug him still, it did not feel the same.

She was unmotivated and Phillip could see in her eyes that she was also going through a lot of pain that she was not willing to talk about. Any time he tried to get her to open up, she closes up and retreats back into silence.

It was almost melancholic.

Her behavior had echoes of the melancholy his late wife Marina experienced.

Marina…

Sir Phillip sighed.

It was nearing one year to the day that Lady Crane sadly died and although Phillip was not grieving her loss, the essence of her absence was felt throughout the house.

He never loved Marina but his children did and her death would forever haunt him for years to come.

She may not physically be around anymore but he still sees her.

In his dreams…

In his dreams he sees her. And all the family he has lost.

He sees Marina. He sees George. He sees his mother. He sees his father…

The images of his dead relatives in his mind always managed to jerk him out of his sleep every night.

Every night.

It has gotten to the point where he wondered if there was any point in sleep at all.

Sir Phillip carried a lot of burden on his shoulders, he knew that. But he was an honorable man and he would shoulder those burdens to the best of his capability.

He was a practical man; he was never idealistic or fanciful. He spent his life solving problems –his own problems and the problems of others –and he believed this was just another list of problems he’d have to fix on his own but he couldn’t help but hold onto the hope.

He still hoped he would receive a premonition—a sign! A sign that will change his life forever. A light in this darkened world he was trapped in.

A glimmer of hope that his luck would finally change.

And boy, how right he was about that. His luck would indeed change.

Romney Hall

Eloise looked out the window as the carriage pulled in front of the large estate of Romney Hall.

She was in awe at how beautiful the grounds were. On the left-hand side there was an enormous lake with an elegant bridge with overgrown foliage wrapped around it and on the right, where the carriage was parked, was the incredible architecture of the home.

The Crane estate.

Romney Hall.

“Hmm! Quite an estate, is it not, Jack?” She heard footman John remark.

“Quite an estate indeed,” The coachman responded, “The miss has a knack for finding either the most obscene places for a lady to be seen at or the most éclat places such as this. How does she do it?”

“Who knows?” Footman John responded.

Eloise giggled, rolling her eyes as she gathered herself together as she prepared to jump out as soon as her footman took a turn to her carriage door; flinging it open.

“We have arrived, ma’am,” Footman John spoke.

“I see that,” Eloise responded with a smile as she stood up. “Thank you for the ride,” She added as she descended the foot stool with her ballgown hoisted up her ankles as he helped her down. “And thank you for your discretion,”

Footman John sighed as he looked at her with concern, “Miss Eloise, what exactly will you be doing here? And why are you taking a week or two’s worth of luggage along with you on your trip? In my years as your footman and going along on your extraordinary adventures, I do not recall ever coming to this place.”

Eloise sighed, “I am visiting a friend!”

Footman John was not convinced, “Is this the household of the gentleman you’ve been corresponding with for a year?” He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Eloise crossed her arms together, “Perhaps,”

“Miss Eloise…” He paused as he gathered the proper, respectful words to say. “I do not think it is such a good idea to appear at a stranger’s house unannounced! A stranger you have never met, mind you.”

Footman John has grown to become a strong acquaintance and ally to Eloise that such out of turn conversations were the norm for her.

He was comfortable enough with her to give his opinions and boy did he not stray from making his opinion known at this moment. 

“It’s going to be fine,” She laughed it off.

He cocked his eyebrow, “I do not know, miss. You have never met this man.”

“But I know who he is,” She assured. “And besides, it’s not like he’s a complete stranger. He has met my family before. Some of them.”

“So, you are just visiting?”

She nodded, “Yes!” She spoke. “And…Maybe a little more,”

His eyes widened. “Miss Bridgerton, surely you are not gallivanting with a man unchaperoned, are you?”

“No!” She half-whispered, half-shouted. “Do not be ridiculous! Do you think I would ever do anything with a man? Besides, I am an adult! I can make my own choices! I do not need a chaperone to do anything.”

He sighed, “Okay, if you aren’t involved with the gentleman, then why are you here?”

“If you must know, I am going to be working for him.” She told him. “And that is all the details I will give you but I need you to promise me that you will not tell anyone of my whereabouts. You will not tell my family where I am or how I got here.” She warned him.

He looked at her as if she was insane.

Perhaps she was.

She dug into her bag and pulled out an envelope and shoved it into his hands.

“I wrote a letter to my mother. . . They should never know where I am…At least until I am absolutely positive that this will work out. And when I’m sure I will reach out to them myself.” She informed him. “This is my pin money, for your discretion and your help to me for all these years. It’s to be shared between you and Jack,”

The footman shared a look with he coachman who was nestled on the carriage drivers stool.

“That should be more than enough to keep you afloat, and to compensate for your continued clandestineness throughout this period,” She said to him with a wink. “You have been my most reliable ally, John and you’ve also become a close acquaintance. I appreciate all you and Jack have done for me.”

“You speak as if you’re leaving for good, madam,” Coachman Jack spoke with a frown.

“Not for good.” She stated. “Just until I figure my life out. I need to do this. Once I get what I want from this, I will return home eventually but that will most likely be when I say my goodbyes,”

She was confident that this would be the key to the life she wanted away from the ton.

“I need to do this,” She reiterated.

Footman John exhaled a deep sigh, “Very well,” He stated. “We will head back to Aubrey Hall, but what are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

“My brother will have work for you, to be sure.”

“I know, I know. That is not what I’m saying...” He trailed off with a sigh.

“This will also give you the time to finally go after the life you want,” She said with a wide smile and a nudge. “I know you have been pining after Esmeralda for months,” She whispered to him as she flashed him a cheeky, knowing look as she mentioned her friend who he'd taken a liking to.

His cheeks flushed and he chuckled.

“I’ll miss you,” She expressed as she leaned in to give him a tight hug.

He reciprocated the embrace –although he was surprised since the two have barely ever hugged in this way before.

As they pulled away they bid their final farewells, “Goodbye,” She nodded. “Goodbye, Jack.” She said to her coachman.

He bowed his head, “Farewell, ma’am,”

As footman John brought down her luggage, Eloise stared at the expansive house and inhaled a deep breath before sauntering her way up the front steps and standing by the door.

She knocked three times and waited as her footman brought her luggage to the front –it was just her big suitcase of clothes, a smaller suitcase for other items and her case for all her other essential items – and placed it on the ground.

The doors of Romney Hall suddenly came to an open as the butler and a few servants came to inspect what was happening outside. 

The butler—a young, good-looking man who looked to be in his early to mid-thirties— greeted Eloise with a confused facial expression, “May I help you, Miss…?” He chuckled, waiting for her to introduce herself.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, “Miss Eloise Bridgerton!”

His eyes bulged as if the drop of the name emboldened some sort of trigger in his mind; as if he recognized the name.

“Miss Bridgerton? From London?”

She nodded her head.

Did he know who she was?

He chuckled once more before turning to the two servants behind him and whispering, “Please collect the young miss’ luggage and bring them in,”

The servants immediately scuttled off to reach for her belongings.

Eloise furrowed her brows in a frown. Were they expecting her?

“My apologies for arriving unannounced…and also for arriving at such a late hour, I hope I have not inconvenienced the entire household?” She expressed with a soft, regretful smile.

“Er…” The butler uttered as he glanced back behind him briefly before turning back to face Eloise, “No! No, you haven’t. Please, come in!” He ushered her in, just as the carriage drove away.

Walking through the home, Eloise was left in awe of the stunning interior display and architectural layout of the place. From the little she was able to see of the house –and she was positive there was a whole lot more to see to be sure – she was impressed with how intricate, ornate and detailed it was, but she was in particular, surprised at how warm and inviting it was despite the frigid, cool atmosphere she sensed in the air but did not register immediately.

One thing stood out to her most about the home.

It was quiet.

“So, where about is everyone?”

The butler looked at her, “Well, it is close to midnight so I am assuming everyone else is fast asleep.”

Eloise shut her eyes and pursed her lips as realization hit at how stupid she sounded in that moment. Of course they would be asleep! It was the middle of the night.

“Of course,” She muttered, to which the surprisingly casual butler responded to with a laugh. “My apologies again for coming unannounced and at an inconvenient hour,”

“Yes, most callers do not visit in the middle of the night. Most of them do not arrive with two weeks’ worth of luggage,” He stated. “You would be the first,”

Her cheeks flushed in ignominy as she moved a thread of hair behind her ear, “I take it Sir Phillip Crane has already retired in his bedchamber?”

“Oh! Do you want to see him now?” He probed.

Eloise was suddenly unsure.

Was she ready to see him?

“Is it possible? I would understand if it’s not possible…” She trailed off, “Do you know what? This is absurd! I should not have come. I’m sorry—” Eloise expressed as she prepared to spin around and leave.

“No! Do not go!” The butler called. Eloise turned to him. “As a matter of fact, Sir Phillip might still be up. I will see if I can reach him.” The butler said as he began scurrying away.

“Wait right here!” He urged. “Do not leave!”

Eloise sighed as he walked out of the room; essentially deserting her in the foyer of the lavish home.

The atmospheric, neo-classical design of the hall set the scene for the rest of the house. The ceilings were intricately painted, the walls were marbled and the display of family heirlooms and portraits on the coffered walls was a sight. It was too dark to envisage the finer details but she could tell the scenery was inviting.

There was a mahogany staircase that featured treads inlaid with marquetry, with an intriguing frescos on the stairs; leading to different sets of rooms.

This only compelled her to explore more of the home as she found herself walking over the checkerboard, marble tiles; suddenly ending up in what she would imagine was a drawing room with yellow walls that had a white carved doorway which drew her eyes to the multiple familial portraits of the past baronets of Romney Hall.

Eloise hummed at the hand-craft furniture she saw. She had always been a fan of chaise lounge sofas; particularly the velvet kind so she was thrilled to see several of them around the room.

She assumed she would get a much better look at the décor in much brighter lighting.

That is not to say she is expecting to stay.

She still had to meet Sir Phillip.

For all she knew, he could very well take one look at her and send her back home. The lunacy of arriving at someone’s doorstep late at night did not get lost on her.

How would he react to her arrival?

Greenhouse

Phillip had not realized he fell asleep on his working desk until he heard the very faint, vague calling of his name “Sir Phillip! Sir Phillip!” before he was then physically woken up by a light shove to his frame; causing him to jolt up and flip his eyes open.

“Sir Phillip!” His butler bellowed his name, “You should sleep in your bed not on your plants,” He chuckled.

Phillip furrowed his brows as he glanced down to see a flattened plant on the center of his experiment book that he was examining prior to his somnolence. 

“Curse it,” Phillip grumbled groggily as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, “Yes?” He said, turning around slowly, “Gunning?”

“Sir Phillip,” Gunning said, clearing his throat. “We have a caller.”

“A caller?” Phillip echoed. “At this hour?” He questioned after glancing at his clock. 

Phillip groaned in frustration. Who on earth was visiting at this time of night? It was not as if they were accustomed to receiving calls even at reasonable time of the day.

Gunning formed a slight smile, but the kind of smile that told Phillip that he held information he was delaying to share just to torture him.

“Who is this caller?” Phillip sighed, growing rather impatient.

Gunning smirked, “I could tell you their name but then again, you do seem rather tired so perhaps I can tell them to come back at a more convenient day and send them on their merry way,”

“Why did you not tell them this before you came to me?”

“I thought you would be interested to know who the caller was,”

“Then tell me who it is!” He retorted, raising his voice slightly as he laughed at the absurdity of his oblique, lateral and riddled method of communication.

Phillip could not tell if his butler was genuinely obtuse or he was doing it on purpose to rile him up, but the permanent smirk on his face told him it was the latter.

“I thought I would let you inquire it for yourself, sir.”

Phillip scoffed, “You thought you’d let me inquire.” He repeated, shaking his head. “This line of questioning is futile.” He expressed as he closed his books.

“Futile? I do not think so,” Gunning answered. “But if you must know, she is here to see you.”

Phillip glared at him, “She?”

Gunning nodded his head confidently, his dumb smirk growing ever wider and even dumber.

Phillip imagined the caller was another one of his older female neighbors offering some well-meaning, albeit, unnecessary pearls of wisdom and kindness again.

Mrs. Worthington lived a few miles from the family’s home and she often brought a casserole dish of some of her home-cooked meals for the children and Phillip ever since Marina died. Perhaps it was her. Or maybe her granddaughters were in town.

“Fine!” Phillip groaned as he stood up from his stool. “I’ll be right in. Just tell the lady I will be there shortly,”

Gunning beamed. “Excellent, sir.”

Phillip stared at his butler in befuddlement; he was behaving in a rather perplexing and idiosyncratic manner this evening.

“Are you quite well, Gunning?”

“Yes, sir. Why wouldn’t I be, sir?” He repeated the title just as his smile grew.

“Very well…” He sighed, defeated as he had no energy to investigate his peculiar behavior any further. “I’ll be inside soon,” He confirmed again.

Gunning nodded his head and then he vanished.

Phillip yawned.

Goodness! He was exhausted.

He ought to get to bed but now he has to entertain a caller who came to his home without an official notice. He was not one to uphold proper etiquette but he wondered if those manners, particularly for a woman, would be considered genteel elsewhere.

But then again…

Perhaps, this woman was not like most women.

And how right he was.

Romney Hall

As Eloise was admiring one of the paintings, the butler returned; coming in from outside and slipping into the yellow drawing room where Eloise was situated and entering with a surprised look on his face as soon as he spotted her.

“Oh!” He remarked. “I thought I told you to wait by the foyer but I see you have already acquainted yourself with the house,”

“Apologies, I was just captivated by the architecture and these paintings,” She remarked.

She was no art enthusiast by any stretch of the imagination but she can appreciate good artistry when she saw one. Benedict would positively lose his mind if he was here.

“Sir Phillip will be here shortly,” The butler informed.

“Thank you,” She answered. “Is it just you and the servants who are up?”

“No. The gardener is awake as well. He likes to trim the rosebushes at night because the bees are not around. He is deathly allergic to them,” He chuckled.

Eloise smiled, “He would get along with my brother. He despises them,”

“Allergic too?”

“Not really,” She replied. “Just…deathly afraid of them,”

“Very well,” The butler smiled before bowing his head, “I will tend to your luggage and organize a room for you,”

“A room?”

He turned around to smile at her, “Well, yes. That is why you are here, no?”

“Well, I did not want to assume—I do not want to impose…Perhaps—"

"You brought luggage with you, madam?" The butler pointed out as if she'd been caught out and made to feel like an idiot.

Maybe she was.

Snap! He definitely called her out in that moment. 

Eloise blushed, "Is Sir Phillip approving of my being here?” She asked.

He scoffed at her, “He certainly will be,” He answered before walking out of the room.

Eloise pouted her bottom lip as she furrowed her brows before lowering them as she suddenly got the nervous twitching feeling in the pit of her stomach; her guts turning into knots.

She was about to meet him for the first time and she was terrified, but she would be lying if she said there was not an element of anticipation.

… …

Phillip sighed as he adjusted his shoulders; rolling them back and forth as he climbed up the short steps of his terrace leading into his home whilst carrying the briefcase where he kept all his study, formulaic and experimental material in it.

As he waltzed through the house –expecting to be greeted by the elderly Mrs. Worthington, or some woman given that his butler had mentioned the visitor was a she – he was left stunned when he looked up and saw what stood before him.

He stopped short; stumbled, even.

Because the woman that stood before him in the middle of the yellow drawing room was not only younger than he expected, she was also heartbreakingly beautiful, and all he could see was the back of her long auburn-chestnut hair and side profile showcasing her perfectly fair, smooth skin, but even so…

Wow…

And then she turned around.

The second her body turned around in attention to him, her gaze shifted from looking at the paintings and her eyes met with his.

In that moment, he could feel himself forgetting to breathe just as his heart skipped a beat. He almost wondered if how was able to breathe at all after that.

Her eyes…

Oh, goodness! Those earth-shatteringly, intoxicatingly, most achingly beautiful coral blue eyes that reminded him of the hydrangea, no, the delphinium, no, the iris flowers he grew in his greenhouse and garden.

Iris…

Her eyes were certainly blue but it was difficult to discern just how blue they were in such low lighting but he couldn’t help losing himself in them even as she stood several feet away from him.

He could drown in those eyes.

And then she opened her mouth; and the most melodic tone of voice escaped her lips, “Evening! You must be the gardener?”

Phillip furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“The gardener? The butler told me you prefer to work in the rosebushes at night to avoid the bees,” She giggled. “A rather strange dilemma you find yourself in your profession,”

Phillip smiled.

Eloise furrowed her eyebrows, “I do not suppose you know where Sir Phillip is?”

He perked up as soon as she uttered his name which signaled to her that she had found the man she was looking for.

“Oh,” She murmured –mostly as confirmation to herself as she surveyed the man who stood before her.

“Sir Phillip?” she asked.

Before he had the chance to respond with the tilt or nod of the head, she spoke at rapid lightning speed, “I know! I know I have arrived here unannounced on a dreadfully cold evening at this ungodly hour and I am terribly sorry for not taking your sleep schedule into consideration before coming here but I felt I had no other choice, and if I am being completely transparent –which you know I am – if I’d sent notice beforehand, it probably would have arrived after the fact, making the notice quite moot, don’t you think?” She sped through it all in a pressured speech.

Phillip was tired; he knew this, which is perhaps why he was blinking –to keep himself from dosing off – but he also wondered if the blinking had a lot to do with trying to keep up with what she was saying but no longer being able to make out where one word ended and the next began.

“…So anyway, I endured a rather long journey to get here –well not really, I come not far from here but it felt like a long journey to me even though it wasn’t but—well that’s hard to explain I suppose. Regardless, I am here! Excuse my awkward, fancy getup. I just returned from a ball and I did not have time to change out of my clothes…” she continued.

He tried to open his mouth to speak but words were unable to come out; partly because he did not know how to formulate words, and partly because if he was able to speak, he would not get a word in at that moment because this woman could not stop rambling about.

“…what time is it? My pocket watch tells me it’s just five minutes past midnight! Goodness! Again, I apologize for rocking up at this indecent hour. I assure you this is not the norm for me –well, kind of not. Trust me, I know it’s not proper etiquette but like I said, I felt as if there was no other option…”

He could feel his head becoming dizzy as he became lightheaded. His mind was racing as he tried to process each word she uttered.

“…I did not bring much personal items because it was all just such a rush,” she chuckled as she adjusted her shawl.

She was certainly prone to rushing it sounded.

“…Your butler is incredibly nice. He welcomed me in here and helped carry my bags in. Unfortunately I do not recall asking his name,” she muttered nervously, biting on her bottom lip.

This had clearly gone on for far too long, and there was no way of knowing when it would all end. He was terrified that if he did not interject now, she would positively suffocate on her own words and choke and die on the floor or perhaps she would swoon from lack of breath and hit her head on the floor.

Either way, she would be injured or left in perilous pain.

“Madam,” He finally spoke in a careful whisper as he softly cleared his throat.

“…I do have a change of clothes, I just want to reiterate but not enough to last me say, a month. And I know you are not expecting a guest so I do not want to assume I will stay here so I’ll leave…” She trailed off, finally pausing in her rapid talk. “Do you know what? I will leave! Yes! T-That’s what I will do.” She awkwardly spun her body around.

“Madam!” He spoke with more assertion which ultimately caused her to halt in her tracks.

She turned around to look at him with those heart pulsating blue-gray eyes, batting her lashes ever so delicately; like a butterfly. For a moment, he was frightfully off balanced and his head was sent in a loop.

“Yes?”

Now that he had finally gotten her attention, he could finally utter the words he had been waiting to ask the moment he locked eyes with her, “Who are you, madam?”

Her lips parted slightly as she digested the question as she stared at him for a good five seconds before turning her whole body around to him and standing with her head held high as she introduced herself.

“Eloise Bridgerton,” she spoke with such clear diction and conviction. “Of course,”

But Phillip needed a moment to replay her name in his head because he frankly could not believe what he was hearing.

This woman?

This heartbreakingly beautiful woman was the darling, dearest friend he had been corresponding with for the better part of almost a year?

The Miss Bridgerton?

He did not know what he expected from her.

He honestly never thought how she might look as it did not matter to him in the slightest.

Nevertheless, seeing her in the flesh and in all her glory has left him completely stunned and at loss for words –which was not a rare occurrence honestly.

However, Eloise knew she was talking too much and she knew she was talking too fast. But she could not help it. That was in her nature; ingrained in her from birth. Her brothers always teased her that she leapt out of the womb spouting all kinds of nonsense like a madman.  

She tended to ramble excessively, especially when she was nervous, and although she was not one to easily be unnerved by the sight of a man; Sir Phillip made her nervous. He made her nervous than any man ever did.

Upon meeting the mysterious man of her letters, she created a mental image of him and what he might look like but now that he was finally standing before her, she can confidently say he was not at all what she had expected.

Dressed in what looked like an outdoor working shirt –rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the top – and light, brown outdoor trousers and boots; and all Eloise could vision was a man with an incredibly sculptured frame; she could only liken him to a bear and a strong wild cat.

He looked like he had the strength, agility and build of a strong jaguar or lion.

But the demeanor of a wild bear, what with his thick shaggy beard, thick tousled light brown hair that sat in very prominent curls, an adequately hairy chest and forearms.

He was not the clean, distinguished man she imagined in her head.

In real life, he was a lot more rugged, had a lot more grit and nonchalance to his appearance; as if he could not give a damn about his outward exterior.

Strange…

Certainly, strange how she was not in the slightest bothered by it.

“You’re Eloise Bridgerton?”

She looked up into his gaping face and felt the first stirrings of annoyance, “Well, of course, I am. Who else would I be?” She spoke.

But she supposed, maybe she shouldn’t be annoyed. He had no idea she was even coming.

Although, she could not quite understand why he looked as though he did not believe her when she told him who she was.

“I’m sorry,” He muttered inaudibly, it was almost a wonder how she heard. “I cannot even imagine,” He expressed before shaking his head and awkward looking around the room.

Eloise frowned at his behavior. Sir Phillip had set his briefcase down on the floor and dusted himself off nervously before beginning to pace back and forth, muttering words to himself as if he was making calculations in his mind.

He did this for a good fifteen seconds whilst Eloise stood there in silence.

“W-would you like something to drink? Tea? Perhaps a glass of water?” He offered her. “I—I could have the cooks prepare you something to eat? Oh, they would be asleep I imagine…Maybe I can make something for you to eat myself?”

Eloise smiled, “No—there’s no need to go through all the trouble. I am not hungry,” She assured him.

“Are you certain?”

“Positive.”

He nodded his head and exhaled an exasperated sigh as he continued pacing the room back and forth.

Eloise had to investigate what was wrong with him, “Sir Phillip?”

He looked at her, “Mhmm?” He responded as he was now gnawing on his nails.

“Are you okay?”

“I—” He stopped as he looked around then back to her. “I don’t know how I’m feeling right now,”

Eloise nodded, dropping her head to the ground.

He was not thrilled about her presence.

And why should he be?

It was disrespectful of her to even have the audacity and the gall to show up to his home and disrupting his whole life. Perhaps it would be best if she took her leave and left.

“I don’t know how to feel.” He reiterated. “B-But—” He paused, “I do know that I am happy to finally meet you for the first time,”

Eloise’s eyes shot up as she looked at him in shock, “You are?”

He bobbed his head, “It is a surprise to be sure but, it’s so good to finally meet the woman behind the letters,” He chuckled.

Her cheeks reddened, “I suppose it is good to finally put a face to the man in the letters,”

He smiled softly, “Forgive me, but I have to ask…” He began.

Eloise nodded encouragingly.

“Why did you come, exactly?”

Eloise’s breath hitched.

She supposed she had a lot of explaining to do.

But to give him a short and direct answer, “I’m here to work for you,”

Phillip stared at her with wide eyes and a parted mouth as she said this. 

Chapter Text

Happiness, it hurt like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still no turning back
She hid around corners and she hid under beds
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled
With every bubble she sank with a drink
And washed it away down the kitchen sink

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are coming so you better run

Run fast for your mother run fast for your father
Run for your children and your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your loving behind you
Can't carry it with you if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can't you hear the horses
Cuz here they come

Dog Days Are Over – Florence + the Machine (string quartet violin and piano instrumental)

CHAPTER 11

February 3^rd, 1822

Romney Hall

“You wish to work for me?” Phillip asked after a long pause, likely to process the revelation of the young miss.

Eloise nodded her head unconfidently, “Well, yes I do. You had mentioned in your letters you were looking for a new governess?”

His eyes blinked in befuddlement, “I did?” He probed.

It was Eloise’s turn to blink, “You do not remember?”

“If I am being completely frank, I do not. Sadly.” He confessed with a weak smile, “But if I am being honest, we have had many conversations so I might have—” He stopped speaking abruptly.

Eloise frowned as she looked to the side uncomfortably. Well, this was certainly embarrassing! She really was beginning to feel this was a bad idea.

“Perhaps, I was mistaken—” Eloise began to speak but he interrupted her.

“Wait a minute,” He said as he tapped his forefinger against his chin in thought. “I recall that conversation we had! Yes! Our correspondence from a few months ago. Erm…"

This was ridiculous! He would never agree to this! Eloise thought. 

‘’Y-You would like to be my new governess?” Phillip inquired again.

Eloise nodded.

“If you will have me, that is.”

Phillip smiled softly as he nodded, “You do know I meant the suggestion as a joke in our letters?”

Eloise’s cheeks flushed as she glanced back down, “I know,”

Phillip released a soft, small crack of a laugh as he eyed the young woman up and down –evidently still surprised that the woman behind the quill was real and she was standing right before him in the flesh. She was real.

“But I have thought long and hard about it and it occurred to me that perhaps, it could work.” She stated. “Did you find a new governess?”

“As it stands, no I have not successfully found a replacement for my current governess who’s retiring in just a month,” He said with a sigh, “Mrs. Millsby was supposed to have left at the start of the year.”

Eloise nodded her head.

Phillip sighed again as he looked at her, “Is that why you left a ball?”

Eloise straightened her shoulders, “Yes. That is why I did but—” She broke herself off.

Did she really need to divulge that she’d stolen away from home in the middle of the night?

It would surely not give the better of first impressions if he knew she was one to up and vanish at any given moment. It also did not speak well of her, or her family, for that matter.

She did not want him to know that she had, for all intents and purposes, ran away from home on an act of impulse.

She also did not want him to know a part of the reason why she ran away was because she was trying to evade the Queen’s guards from finding her out to seize her for her crimes as an imposter.

If he had known all of that, he’d have her packed and sent back to London posthaste. He seemed like an honorable man and Eloise was sure he would not be comfortable aiding and abetting a runaway criminal –if you would even call her that.

“That is not to say this decision was made in haste,” She tried to defend. “I did carefully think about it. I just decided to take action tonight.” She explained.

He nodded, “I see,” He spoke before the silence crept up again.

Luckily, he saved their awkward silence from growing to monumental proportions by asking more questions.

“Well, I suppose it would not hurt to have a quick preliminary interview.” He spoke.

Eloise frowned, “An interview?”

He looked at her with confused eyes, “Yes. Every job requires one,”

Eloise quickly tried to hide her ignorance, “Right! Of course!”

Phillip chuckled nervously, “I take it you would prefer to do it in the morning though –as I am sure you are quite exhausted from the journey here. Are you sure this is all your luggage?”

“This is all I have,” She reaffirmed.

“Good,” He smiled before looking around again, “Gunning!” He bellowed.

The butler appeared so quickly that Phillip was sure he was eavesdropping on the entire conversation; he was certainly a nosy fella that one.

Ah! So that was his name. Gunning! Eloise thought to herself as she looked over to him as he stood beside her with his arms behind his back.

He sent her a quick glance and a knowing smirk before shifting his attention back to Phillip, “Yes, sir?”

“Could you prepare a room for Miss Bridgerton, please?”

“I have already done so, sir.” Gunning responded.

“Oh,” Phillip hummed as he glanced back at Eloise then back to his butler, “And could you please take her luggage—”

Gunning interrupted, “Already done that as well,”

Eloise frowned as she glanced back behind her, where she left her luggage in the foyer, and noticed that they had disappeared from their station.

Sir Phillip’s cheeks colored slightly as he realized his butler seemed to have had everything under control, as if he had been waiting for this day.

“Good. That is good,” Phillip answered awkwardly as he cleared his throat. “How long did you plan to stay?”

Eloise thought.

Well…

She did not think that far. All she did was grab the nearest clothes in her vicinity to her to keep her afloat for a specific timeframe before she made her escape but she did not really have a set plan of how long she would be staying with Sir Phillip.

Her being her was her way of seeking solace and refuge from her world. She hoped time at Romney Hall, out in the countryside, would only help her figure herself out as she waited for everything to blow over in London.

Eloise stumbled on her words, “Erm, well…I don’t exactly know how long I plan to be here but–Well, it is only—” She struggled to articulate a string of a sentence.

Phillip swooped in to save her, “It does not matter. We’re glad you made it to us. You are welcome to stay here for as long as you would like,”

What a generous offer! Eloise thought to herself.

He was being unbelievably kind to someone he had just met merely five minutes ago.

“Make sure she has anything she needs,” He nodded his head to Gunning. “We shall make sure we do everything in our power to ensure her stay here is the most comfortable, indeed.” He added.

“Of course,” Gunning said with a nod.

Eloise uncomfortably played with the ribbons of her letters –although, the way Phillip made arrangements for her sort of made her relax a little bit.

“We will be having an interview with Miss Bridgerton tomorrow—”

“Or we can have it now?” Eloise suddenly suggested.

Phillip glared at her with shocked eyes, “Now?”

It was the middle of the night!

Eloise became sheepish, thinking she might have overstepped or rather misstepped; effectively blundering and lessened her chances of securing the job.

“If it isn’t too burdensome, sir!” She quickly explained. “I—I am not opposed to having it tomorrow if that is what you wish! It is entirely,” she found herself clumsily losing her balance, “up to you, sir,” she finished as she cleared her throat.

“Right,” Sir Phillip cleared his throat as well as he fiddled with his fingers.

Gunning found the awkward exchange between the two of them rather amusing, and it only emboldened him to continue adding fuel to the burning embers, “Since it appears you two are already acquainted, I imagine you would like the potential governess to start as soon as possible, so I think an impromptu interview would be a wise course. Don’t you think, my good sir?”

Phillip sent silent daggers at him, “It is quite late—”

“And I do think it would be wise to do it before the children wake up. I’m sure you wouldn’t want them to wake up to a stranger sleeping in their home,” Gunning added, “At least if Miss Bridgerton has a successful interview, which I am sure she will, then the children will wake up to a stranger who is their new governess,” He finished as he turned to Eloise, flashing a wide grin.

Sir Phillip sighed as he shook his head, “Are you done?” He questioned his butler.

Gunning smirked cheekily, “Yes, I am.”

Sir Phillip sighed as he closed his eyes before opening them again to lock with Eloise’s eyes.

“Very well…” He muttered. “W-why don’t we get to it? Shall we discuss things in the red drawing room?”

Eloise nodded her head, “Very well,”

Sir Phillip formed a soft, gentle curve of a smile as he studied her facial features. Her skin was impossibly smooth, almost as smooth silk or a velvety leaf texture, full of moisture and bright; full of luminosity,

 “Good,” He answered.

As she took a seat on the comfortable red velvet chaise chair, she folded her hands in her lap, then watched as he prepared the fireplace; tossing a broken tree, wooden log into the flames before shaking off the debris on his hands and wiping them with his trousers.

“Erm, that should warm up the place.” He muttered, mostly to himself. “Are you cold?”

Eloise clasped her hands together as she rubbed them, “A little bit,”

He then crossed over to a drawer to pull out a thin, purple, throw blanket which he handed to her as he approached her.

Eloise smiled, “Thank you,” She whispered as she took it from his hands and unfolded it; flinging it over her thighs and covering down to her feet.

Sir Phillip then went to take a seat across from her, folding his rather well-developed frame into the chair.

The pair then sat on separate chairs; in silence.

Silence.

A departure from life at Bridgerton House which was in a constant state of bustling noises in every corner.

Romney Hall was quiet.

And Sir Phillip was an incredibly quiet man. Evidently, he did not seem like much the conversationalist he appeared to be in his letters.

But Eloise wondered if it had to do with his personality or his fatigue.

He did look rather tired, evident by the bags underneath his eyes. However, Eloise wondered if that was a reoccurrent state for him.

He seemed positively exhausted and drained by his demeanor. He looked like he just arrived back from battle and still performed labor intensive work. He looked physically and mentally drained. 

Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt for not being too eager to talk as much as she would hope. 

He smiled politely which involuntarily caused Eloise to smile politely, hoping she appeared encouraging to him, before she swung her gaze to somewhere else.

She was rather nervous herself.

She had never had an interview in her entire life.

She did not know what the proper etiquette was.

Was she supposed to speak first? Is that why Sir Phillip was so quiet?

He then cleared his throat.

She leaned forward.

He then shifted in his chair and cleared his throat again; practically coughing.

She then shifted positions; sitting up straight and leaning forward even more.

Phillip then sighed as he glanced past her face to look behind her, lingering on the door as he gave off a far off look; a facial expression that suggested that he is preoccupied by something else or contemplating something and not paying attention to his currents surroundings.

Eloise noticed he did that a lot in the last half an hour or so since she met him. He seemed to get lost in his own little world at odd intervals between conversations. It wasn’t that he was easily distracted, she didn’t think.

Rather, it was almost like he can easily lose consciousness of his surroundings and just stay in one solitary position for a few seconds.

She did not even think he did it intentionally or that he even knew he did it, perhaps, he did not know it was a habit of his. So she wouldn’t fault him for it. He probably did not mean it in a rude way, but, it was definitely something Eloise noticed the moment she met him –what with her being so observant and all.

Eloise was curious what that was all about.

He did look rather, innocent and infantile –if for lack of a better word – when he zoned out. Eloise found it rather adorable in some odd way.

Sir Phillip knew he was awkward and he knew the whole situation was awkward but he did not do well in unexpected situations. He was a meticulous man who preferred to plan his day and what he planned to do. He was not spontaneous at all –well, not all the time.

He hadn’t planned to have an interview tonight. He certainly did not plan to be interviewing his letter writing companion for a job.

But he knew he could not let the poor woman bear another second of this cumbersome, uncomfortable silence anymore.

“Miss Bridgerton—” He began to speak.

But just as he spoke, she spoke, “Sir Phillip—”

They both fell silent again, before they simultaneously fell into small fits of laughter; both of them realizing the absurdity of the situation.

“I’m very nervous,” Eloise explained.

“I’m gathering that,” Phillip scoffed, smiling as he blinked and slumped back in his chair. “I suppose I am a bit nervous as well.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s just…strange. That I am actually talking to you and it’s not through letter correspondence anymore,”

Eloise scoffed in agreement, “It’s quite strange for me too,”

He simpered, “The tea should arrive at any moment,” He informed her, as he scratched the thick hair on his chin.

Subsequently, one of the servants came into the room carrying with them a tray.

“I would normally hold such meetings in my office but,” Phillip spoke as a servant brought in the tray of tea, milk and a plate of cookies. “I thought you would much prefer a more comfortable environment after such an arduous journey from London,”

“I did not come from London,” Eloise answered.

“Thank you,” Phillip said to his servant with a smile. “You may now retreat to bed if you’d wish, Geraldine.” He told her politely.

“Goodnight, sir.” The servant expressed with a bow of the head and a small curtsy before turning to Eloise and repeating the same genuflect, “Goodnight, madam.”

Eloise smiled and dipped her head as she watched the servant leave the room; closing the door behind her.

She found it quite endearing and benign that he seemed to be very courteous to his servants; it was unlike the way many gentlemen treated their household staff. He treated them almost as if they were part of his own family in some odd way—despite his rather withdrawn persona.

“So, you did not arrive from London?” He inquired. “Where did you arrive from then?”

“Not far from here,” She explained but she chose not to divulge too much information in case Phillip wished to send her back to where she came from.

If Eloise was to ever go back it would not be Aubrey Hall or to Bridgerton House.

She could not foresee herself going back there yet. Not until she had the taste of the freedom and the life she so wished to have dangling right in front of her.

“But not in London,” She emphasized.

He looked at her with blinking eyes, “You are quite elusive, Miss Bridgerton.” He remarked as he leaned forward to make his tea.

“I would say the same about you, Sir Phillip,” She stated.

He chuckled softly, “Apologies, I—I tend to be that way,” He spoke. “It-It’s in my nature, I suppose. I am a rather reserved individual.”

Eloise nodded, “I see,”

“Do you prefer milk in your tea?” He pointed out.

“Yes,”

“Sugars?”

“No sugars,”

Phillip smiled as he poured the milk into her cup and began stirring the tea before reaching to hand it over to her from the other side of the sofa.

“Thank you,” Eloise remarked with a smile as she took the cup and saucer in her hands before blowing air into it, “You know, it is usually the women who prepare the tea in this situation,”

“Well, I much prefer to make my own tea. I am very particular about it.” He explained.

He then took two cups from the tray and set them on the table; he poured milk into one cup and a different type of tea into another cup; essentially keeping those two mixtures separate for some reason, although, in his cup of tea it looked like he used dried herbs.

As Eloise took a sip of her tea, she was amazed at the flavorful taste; almost making her tongue melt, “Mmm, what is in this tea?”

“It’s wild mayweed chamomile tea,” He replied. “Do you like it?” He acquired, looking up at her.

She licked her lips after taking another sip and letting the scent and taste ferment her tongue.

“The flavor is marvelous,” She exclaimed in awe. “It is so good! Where did you find this tea?”

“I grow it in my greenhouse,” He answered as he poured the hot water into his cup. “And many other herbs as well,”

“Of course,” Eloise rolled her eyes as she took another sip. “Being a botanist and all, why am I not surprised you have your own tea subdivision?”

He laughed in a way that made Eloise’s stomach flutter. What a beautiful sound his voice made when he laughed.

“I wouldn’t call it a subdivision,” He stated. “But yes, I do prefer to harvest my own herbal teas. Chamomile is known to have a calming effect and a frequently used sleeping aid; enhancing sleep quality which I am sure you’d appreciate after tonight,” He said as he completed his task by adding honey, “It’s also good for stabilizing blood levels and improving digestive health.” He informed as he brought his cup to his lips.

Eloise hummed and smiled at the quick lesson, “Noted.” She whispered as she drank again.

“Please, go ahead and have muffins and cookies,” He gestured to the two plates, “This is all I can offer you at this hour. Gunning shall have a more extensive breakfast prepared for you in the morning which is in a few hours,”

Eloise giggled, “This is lovely, and more than enough for now thank you.” She replied as she reached for a cookie and immediately took a bite of it.

He smiled, “Have you worked as a governess before?”

Eloise shook her head, “No, I sadly have not. I haven’t had the opportunity to work in any capacity,”

“Right, you did mention as much in your letters,” He recollected.

She nodded, “Yes, but— No, I'm lying! I have been working for my brother for several months. Clerical work. So I do have somewhat of an experience,"

"Oh,"

"Yes, but as a governess, no. I do know what the job entails to a certain degree. Obviously being exposed to different governesses in my lifetime, I have a general overview of what they do.”

He nodded, “Do you like children?”

Eloise very nearly choked on her tea as he asked that question; not because she did not expect it, but rather, she did not know how to answer it.

Certainly, she could not answer ‘no’ or else that would squander her chances completely.

But she also couldn’t lie…

“I do think my experience with my younger siblings has taught me the value of patience, care and discipline,” She chuckled, “My two youngest siblings have been known to be quite the handful so I look after them quite often so I suppose that has given me the experience of being around children. Not to mention my older brother and his two little ones,”

Phillip smiled as he drank his tea, “That is good to hear but you did not answer my question, Miss Bridgerton,”

Darn it!

He was smart and intuitive.

She cleared her throat as she set her tea onto the table and then ran a finger through her hair; moving a tendril behind her ear.

“I do not hate children,” she answered, but he was not convinced. “I love them, yes, I do! Especially when I can hold a conversation with them,” she broadened with a panicky giggle.

He shrugged, “I suppose I can understand. You can never truly know what babies want,”

“Exactly!”

“And conversations with infants can be rather dull,” He joked.

“And non-existent!” She giggled.

He laughed as he nodded, “How is your knowledge in languages?”

“I love the English language and literature. Fluent in Latin, German, and French,” She replied. “I studied Polish, Dutch, Swedish, and Spanish recently though, although I am not as fluent but I am gradually getting there,”

Phillip flashed an impressed expression. She knew eight languages? He only spoke two languages fluently and could string a few sentences in barely two or three more.

“And other subjects?”

“Well, as I conveyed in previous letters, in addition to linguistics and English, my interests have always lied in the humanities subjects such as history, literature, geography, classics, political science and relations, sociology and media studies. But recently, I have developed a knack for philosophy as well.”

“Is that so?”

She gave him a look, “Don’t act so surprised,”

He smirked, “Believe me, I am not surprised at all. That is quite literally the least surprising thing I could hear from you,”

“Live with me for a few weeks and you’ll regret saying that,”

“I guess it’s a relief that you came then,” He joked. “Now I can finally judge the notorious Miss Bridgerton for myself,”

Her cheeks burned a deep scarlet.

Eloise chose to keep quiet in that moment; she did not want to admit that to Sir Phillip that he was the one who got her interested in philosophy.

He went on to ask her a few more questions in regards to her skills and interests. He then went on to ask her about her approach in discipline.

“What would you do in the event where the children are behaving rather unruly or they are distracted?”

“I would approach it with tact, I suppose. I’d relay the ground rules beforehand to the children so that they may understand what is expected of them.” She answered truthfully.

He smiled.

He liked that answer.

“But my feeling is that, children will excel more in an environment they enjoy so I guess I would hope I could do that,”

He almost scoffed.

Getting Oliver to enjoy his lessons would be a tall order. He was almost certain no governess would ever get that boy to enjoy school. That was why he hoped at the very least, Eloise would be the kind of governess that gets him to at least do his work and succeed at it.

“Good luck with that,” He said to her.

Eloise looked at him with a scrutinizing, accusing gaze, “Why? You do not trust me?”

“I did not say that,” He smiled confidently as he crossed his arms as he leaned back onto his chair, “I am just saying, my children…are quite rambunctious! More so than your siblings, I take it. I do not want them to scare you off,” He said in a joking way.

But deep down, he was terrified that if he did hire Miss Bridgerton, his children would have her packed and gone by the following morning.

Nurse Millsby was heaven sent and it is a wonder how the children have not sent her into an early grave instead of retirement, but they were rather comfortable with her but he wondered if it had a lot to do with the fact that they could get away with a lot more around her given her old age.

If they met Eloise, he wondered if they would take advantage of her young age to drive her insane.

He certainly hoped that was not gonna be the case because he selfishly wished Eloise would stay on a permanent basis. He felt that way from the moment he met her.

But obviously, he could not voice that aloud.

Something in his gut was telling him that she was the right fit for the job.

“I have brothers and sisters, Sir Phillip.”

“I am aware,” He replied.

Eloise could tell he still was not one hundred percent convinced she would be able to handle the children.

Granted, neither was she but, never one to shy away from a challenge, Eloise was now emboldened to actually rise to the occasion and test her own endurance and prove herself and Phillip.

Besides, how bad can the children really be?

“I’ll be fine,” She assured him.

He sighed, “All right. If you say so,”

She rolled her eyes, “Tell me about them. The children. What are they like?”

Phillip exhaled a heavy breath as he gave a far off look to the side as he thought of his children before forming a small smile; Eloise could only take it as a sign of fatherly pride.

“What can I say?” He began, “Honestly, the twins do keep me on my toes for sure. They are eight years old. They have always been inseparable, physically and metaphorically since birth, joined at the hip even despite their many, many squabbles. You would be hard pressed to find two siblings that are not as co-dependent as those two,”

Eloise smiled as she listened intently to the father speak of his children.

“Ever since their mother, Marina—Lady Crane died, it has been a turbulent, difficult adjustment period for them. Amanda has taken the loss the hardest. She was incredibly enamored by her mother, or rather, she was enamored by the idea of her. And losing her has made her despondent.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,”

He nodded then continued, “Oliver on the other hand, he’s always been quite the handful from the moment he was born. He has given me more gray hairs than I can count,” He laughed, “But he is a lovely boy, he’s always eager to make others laugh by his antics. Reminds me a lot like my brot…” He paused abruptly.

Eloise stared at him.

Phillip sighed, “Anyway, Oliver has handled the loss differently than Amanda and he handled it by being rebellious and destructive at times,” He stated.

Phillip then realized he probably shouldn’t divulge too much in case it scared her off –which was something he did not wish for her to do.

“Not to say he isn’t manageable or controllable!”

Eloise nodded.

“He just needs to be veered into the correct direction,”

“Well,” She sighed, “It sounds like you’re a very attentive and loving father who just wants the best for his children,”

He smiled, “Sometimes I think I am doing it all wrong,” He muttered.

It sounded like he did not intend to vocalize it or for it to reach her ears but Eloise heard it anyway.

And she chose to keep quiet.

From the entire interview, Phillip deduced that Eloise was a very outspoken, well-read and articulate woman who would be able to not only teach his children but perhaps even encourage them, particularly Amanda who needed a strong, confident, self-assured female figure in her life who would convince her to break out of her shell.

He knew what his decision would be.

“Well, I guess that is all for tonight,” He spoke. “Congratulations! You got the job!” He stated as he extended his hand out to her.

Eloise’s eyes bulged in shock.

She got the job?

She got a job?

She’s finally got something she can call…work?

“Are you quite serious?”

Phillip chuckled, “Yes! You seem to have a good disposition, good morals, very intelligent and outspoken and well-read and also self-assured which are qualities I was looking for,” He stated.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I do not want you making a big mistake you’ll soon regret.”

“I highly doubt that,”

Eloise groaned, shrugging her shoulders as she mumbled something, “Don’t bet your money on it,”

Phillip frowned, “If we’re going to work together, you might fare better if you try trusting me a little bit more,” He mentioned, cocking an eyebrow at him as he smirked at her.

She smiled, “And how much do you trust me?”

“I guess we’ll see,” He laughed as he gesticulated his outstretched hand.

Eloise gnawed her bottom lip as she stared at his hand before she grinned again.

She gasped, “Thank you! Thank you!” She squealed in excitement as she excitably tapped her feet rapidly before stretching out her hand to shake his outstretched hand.

As she went to touch his palm, she felt an electrifying spark of energy surge from their hands contacting with one another; a spark that sent the familiar, uncomfortable butterflies in her stomach to begin fluttering again.

Eloise tried to ignore it by quickly shaking his hand and letting go of her grip.

Phillip cleared his throat and stroked his bearded face, “Uh,” He muttered as he glanced at the clock. “Ten minutes. That’s good. I hoped to keep this interview short. You must be tired,”

As if on cue, Eloise yawned, “Quite tired, in fact. Wow!” She mentioned, even she was surprised how tired she had become.

He laughed, “I don’t wish to keep you here any longer if you wish to go to bed. I’ll show you to your room,”

Phillip escorted his new governess out of the drawing room, with Sir Phillip closing the door behind them as he escorted Miss Bridgerton to her lodgings.

“Sir?” His butler called as he made an appearance, “The interview was successful, I take it?”

Phillip nodded, “Yes, Gunning!” He said, looking down at Eloise with a soft smile. “I would say so. What do you think, Miss Bridgerton?”

“I got the job!” She uttered, still elated that she finally can say she holds a working role in society.

Gunning applauded, “That is fantastic! Welcome fellow staffer,” He said with a bow of the head. “Should I escort you to your bedchamber?”

“No need, I will show her to her room,” Phillip suggested.

Gunning gave him a look that only Phillip was able to catch and he chose to pretend to ignore and avoid it.

“Very well,” Gunning muttered, “Goodnight. I will see you in the morning,” He bid farewell.

“Goodnight,” Eloise waved to him.

Phillip cleared his throat as he swung his arms behind his back and fixed his eyes onto Eloise.

“Tomorrow morning – Or should I say later today,” He chuckled, “I will introduce you to the twins. Amanda is terribly shy though, so it will take a while for her to warm up to you. Oliver gets easily distracted when he’s highly energetic so do not be alarmed at his high level demeanor,”

Eloise nodded, “Okay. You did say he was manageable, correct?”

“Indeed! Definitely!” He tried to assure her but he glanced to the side with wide eyes because he did not know what would happen if she found out the real depth of it.

“Erm, I will also introduce you to rest of the household staff. I will organize a proper tour for you so you can see the rest of the house as well as the grounds. Mrs. Millsby will come by for the twin’s lessons tomorrow so you will meet her and she will show you the ropes,”

Eloise bobbed her head in understanding, “Right. Has she always worked for you?”

“Yes, and no,” He responded. “She has been my governess since I was a young lad, and she left once I was old enough to attend boarding school but I requested for her to work for the family again a year ago. She has been an incredible asset and valued member of the family for decades,”

Anxiously, Eloise fiddled with the fabrics of her gloves, “Her shoes will be impossible to fill,”

“Do not fret,” He assured her, “You will do well, I am sure of it. She is also an incredible teacher and mentor,” He told her.

She nodded.

“Why did you decide to become a governess?” He randomly asked.

Eloise was almost stunned by the question, “Erm, I don’t know really. You sounded like you were in desperate need of help in your letters and I wished to experience work, and being a woman in society, there are not many job opportunities for us.”

He gave a sympathetic look to her, “I see,” He said, “Well, I do not want to hold you in this position forever. Let’s think of it a temporary post; we’ll work on a trial basis which allows you the choice to leave whenever you wish to,”

She turned to him, “If I leave, wouldn’t you be without a governess?”

“Yes,” He said, “But I do not want you to feel pressured to stay in the job if it gets too strenuous and tiresome for you. This is a new territory for you. I do not wish for you to burn out,”

“That’s very considerate of you,”

“And besides, I think with your arrival it will buy me more time to find a more permanent governess and I can finally let Mrs. Millsby go. She has so graciously fulfilled her role. It is time for her to rest up,”

She smiled.

As the two of them walked, the familiar silence crept up again but it wasn’t as awkward as before. It felt a lot more like comfortable silence.

Eloise finally broke it when she wished to pose a question.

“Sir Phillip—”

“Please, call me Phillip,”

“You are my employer now and I think I would feel much more comfortable if I call you by your respective and formal title,”

“Very well, if that is what you wish,” He stated.

Sir Phillip noticed she was very quick, direct and assertive in her speech; a certain tenacious and fierce flare to her. She spoke her mind and was unafraid to let her feelings known. 

In truth, he found that intriguing about her instead of being intimidated by it. 

Eloise stared at the ground with her hands firmly centered at her midsection. 

“I suppose it would be strange to call your employer by his first name,” He remarked as he thought about it, flashing her a puzzled yet goofy look which made her giggle.

As his gaze shifted from her, she looked at him; surreptitiously studying him. He was a lot rougher-looking; less urbane than she expected. His letters were so detailed, orderly, elaborate and well-written; she had pictured him to be very distinguished, clean and smooth, almost suave but he was totally different.

Granted, he did look as though he had been working outside all day. But that in itself was surprising. Did botany require doing manual labor? From the knowledge she knew about botany, it did not require him to dress in a white outdoor shirt with patches of dirt from soil or sand residue, or rough trouser and outdoor working boots.

His light brown hair –a trait which he described in his letters – was also not how she imagined it to be. She pictured his hair to be quaffed; neatly trimmed short and neatly combed back or sitting in a straight position, however, what he looked like in reality was vastly different to her imagined perception.

His brown hair was fascinating to look at. They had an unruly wave to the deep curls, making him appear somewhat disheveled but not in a ghastly way though.

She was so amazed at just how wrong she predicted he would look like. She was never one to easily accept being wrong about something but she had definitely read Sir Phillip incorrectly. He was a peculiar individual to construe and study; unreadable.

“You are not quite as I expected you to be, Sir Phillip,” She remarked.

He turned to her, “I do hope it’s a good thing,”

She giggled, “Yes, it is.”

“As you can probably tell, I do have all of my teeth,” He joked, gesturing to his perfect row of teeth.

Eloise rolled her eyes, “I can see that,” She laughed before simmering her laughs and nervously glancing at the ground as they found themselves in the foyer. “Am I everything you expected?”

He glanced to her, “To be honest, no. Not at all,”

Eloise frowned; wondering if his answer was meant to be a good thing or a bad thing but deciding not to ask.

“Is it my teeth?” She teased. “Are they hideous?”

He gave her a look which made her giggle, “No. Your teeth are fine, Miss Bridgerton,” He responded.

 “I must confess…” Eloise began. “You are the first man outside of my own immediate family who I have ever stayed in close proximity to for longer than a few hours,”

Sir Phillip suddenly realized the major error he committed in that moment.

“Oh, no!” He grumbled. Eloise frowned. “Damn it! Forgive me, Miss Bridgerton. I had no idea what I was thinking! I—I will see to it tomorrow that you have an assigned chaperone with you at all times during your say,”

I do not need a chaperone! She thought to herself.

Chaperones made her feel as though she was a child that needed monitoring, instead of a grown adult woman who was capable of making her own decisions.

“There is really no need, Sir Phillip.”

He ignored her, “I shall make a formal request tomorrow and your chaperone shall arrive before end of day,”

She decided to just accept it because she wondered if it would make him more comfortable if she had a chaperone.

Indeed, this was not her home. It was his. 

And he was doing her a great kindness by allowing her to stay here.

She was not one to dictate the rules of someone else’s home.

Besides, she was an unmarried woman and chaperones were required etiquette in these situations. 

It certainly beats having her mother as acting chaperone. 

“You have a lovely home,” She expressed, shifting the topic of conversation elsewhere as she pointed to the ceiling décor, admiring it. 

“Thank you,” He said. “This has been the Crane household for many generations, many centuries. There is a rich history within these walls,”

“I see that,” She spoke. “I do love the paintings,” She mentioned as they passed by the yellow drawing room.

Eloise then was compelled to change course on their journey as she slipped into the yellow room where she was drawn to the wonderful artefacts on the wall.

Phillip followed her tail.

“Are these portraits of the past baronets?”

“Mhmm,” Phillip remarked. “Dating all the way back to the 1600s when the first baronetcy of the Crane estate was appointed,” He stated, gesturing to a painting of a man from that time period. “That is my ancestor, Sir Henry Crane, 1^st Baronet of Romney Hall. His lineage to aristocracy and royalty afforded him the luxury of obtaining this large estate,” He answered.

“What was he?”

“The son of a prince,”

Eloise’s eyes widened, “A prince?”

Phillip nodded.

“Wow!” Eloise hummed as she looked up at the painting.

“He was the son of the second or third prince, I can’t quite remember. So, not pretty significant in the line of succession.” Phillip answered.

Eloise continued observing all the portraits of his family; with each portrait, Phillip explained their connection to him and their history within the family.

“This is Sir Victor Crane and his wife Lady Farrah Crane,” He gestured to a portrait of a couple and four children. “Born in 1714. Sir Victor Crane was the 7^th Baronet of Romney Hall. He was my grandfather,”

“Oh,”

“I never had the chance to meet him, and I do not know much about him. My father rarely talked about him when he was alive. My grandparents were blessed with four children; two girls and two boys. My father was the eldest boy, but the third born child of the family.” He expounded.

Eloise nodded her head, as she moved onto the next painting, “And I take it this is your family?”

Phillip halted in his tracks as he looked up at the portrait painting of his father, mother and of him and his brother as teenage boys.

“That is Sir Thomas Crane and, uh, L-Lady—” He stumbled on his words as he spoke about his mother, “Lady Aileen Crane. Sir Thomas was the 8^th Baronet of Romney Hall. Born in 1758. A war veteran.” He spoke about him as if he was just another historical figure of the past and not his father.

Eloise would be lying if she didn’t notice how strange that was; almost like he did not care at all about him, as if he was desensitized by the very mention of him.

She looked back at the painting, “And this is George?” She pointed to the man who stood beside him. Phillip did not respond. “You both look very similar. Granted, you are siblings,” She giggled.

Phillip did not share her same humorous intonation as his eyes were fully transfixed on the image of his brother.

Eloise’s laughs tapered as her smile began to drop as she gazed up at the gentleman who looked to be lost in thought; or perhaps lost in memory.

“Sir Phillip?”

He quickly responded, “I think it ought for us to retire to bed,” He confirmed abruptly as he spun around on his heel and began walking away.

Eloise looked back the portrait of his family before following his tail.

He escorted her to her room where her bed was already prepared and servants had already drawn her a hot bath.

“I hope you find your lodgings to your comfort,” He told her as he stood by the doorframe as she explored her room, “Feel free to request for anything you need,”

“Thank you,” She answered. “And thank you for your kindness,”

He smiled slightly, nodding his head as he reached for the door handle and backed away, “Goodnight, Miss Bridgerton,”

“Goodnight, Sir Phillip,”

Later that morning, Eloise woke up with a start –having had only a good five hours of sleep before she could hear the shuffling of the household staff starting their day.

Regardless of the unfamiliar, busy, rattling sounds waking her up, she still had a good night’s sleep on her first night at Romney Hall.

After getting ready for the day, she traveled downstairs where she was hoping to meet with Sir Phillip, but was met with the cheeky butler.

“Ah! Miss Bridgerton,” He acknowledged. “You’re up bright and early! How was your first night? Did you sleep well?

“I did,” She stated. “Where is Sir Phillip?”

“He’s working in the greenhouse. He should be here in a few minutes,” He mentioned. “Would you like breakfast?”

Eloise smiled, “I would appreciate that,”

He laughed, “Very well. Follow me,” He said as he escorted her to the dining hall where the servants had been bringing food from the kitchen.

The scent of the food was saccharine and delicious; a sensationally gratifying smell to be sure.

Several minutes into enjoying her breakfast meal, Sir Phillip entered the room.

“Good morning,” He greeted.

Eloise looked at him with a smile; but her eyes lingered down to his attire. He was dressed in a new white outdoor shirt but this time he sported the look with a brown leather vest and dark trousers.

“Morning,”

“Are you enjoying your breakfast?”

She nodded after swallowing a forkful of eggs, “It’s delicious. Thank you,”

He smiled as he rolled up his sleeves, “Mrs. Millsby has arrived. When you are finished I would like to introduce you to her in the drawing room.” He said with a nod as he turned around.

“Sir!” She called as she grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth. “Have you eaten?”

He turned to her, “Do not worry. I shall eat in an hour or so. Enjoy the rest of your meal,”

Eloise exhaled a heavy sigh as she returned back to finishing her plate.

She did not know why she was surprised he was so professional this morning. She was his new employee after all. But still, she was taken aback by just how professional and systematic he was being, as if the friendly chatter they shared last night was gone from the mind.

But this was what she signed up for, she supposed. He may have been a friend in the letters but that did not matter in this moment. Their dynamic has shifted the second he hired her. It would be a conflict of interest if he treated his new governess like a companion.

Once she was done, she returned back into the yellow drawing room where she found Sir Phillip conversing with an elderly lady; she could not be older than seventy.

“Ah! Miss Bridgerton,” He cleared his throat as he tried to contain the beaming smile of his as soon as he saw her. “This is Mrs. Millsby, Mrs. Millsby, I would like you to meet our new governess, Miss Bridgerton,”

Mrs. Millsby was rather surprised at how youthful and beautiful the young lady was, “Greetings, young miss.” The old lady spoke in a saccharine, honey type of voice; her voice matured because of advanced age but still, very sweet and welcoming, warm.

Eloise smiled.

“I did not know what an old lass I was until right this moment. My, you are younger and far more beautiful than I expected, Miss Bridgerton.” Mrs. Millsby stated.

Sir Phillip felt slightly embarrassed; he did not know why because he was not the one who said it, but he would be lying if he said he did not think it as well.

Eloise’s cheeks flushed, “Thank you. I have heard so much about you.” She replied as she went to shake her hand.

“Mrs. Millsby will give you an induction on the job. She has agreed to stay for a month to act as an advisor. She’ll be arriving on occasion during the weekdays, so if you ever need any assistance, she will be available to you.”

“Oh! I shall certainly need all the help I can get,”

“I very much doubt that, you will be a natural.” She expressed. “The children are a delight once you learn how to keep them engaged. You will find what work’s best for you. Your methods might be different than my own but I think it’s important to keenly follow the advice of more experienced ones,”

Eloise did not know how to take the last part of her words. She seemed amiable but she found her last phrase to be rather condescending.

Perhaps, she was reading too much into it. She was indeed inexperienced.

After being introduced to the old governess, Phillip went on to introduce her to the rest of the household staff.

They went to the kitchen where she met the two cooks—who were rather short staffed after letting go several others a few weeks prior— and then she went on to meet the servants and maids, where she was introduced to her very own lady’s maid.

The head housekeeper was Miss Clarisse who had recently taken over from the household’s long-serving housekeeper Mrs. Hurley.

After she met the household staff, Phillip took her outside to see the magnificent, vast and evergreen grounds.

“The grounds are magnificent, Sir Phillip,” She remarked in awe. “Amazed how you maintain all the wonder even in the dreary winter season,”

“I credit my longsuffering gardener,” He stated.

“Surely, you work on the garden too.” She mentioned, “I notice you dress for the outdoors a lot,”

He shrugged, “Y-yes well, I do it because I love it.”

She smiled, as she looked ahead; her eyes were now staring at the lake, “Beautiful lake,”

His eyes followed her gaze; and suddenly memories of a year ago flooded his mind.

A year ago, his son drowned in that very lake and it was that series of events that lead to the death of Marina. He could not believe how quickly things deteriorated for the worst after that dreadful day. He has never allowed the children to even go near that lake because the memories were too haunting and terrifying for either him or them to relive.

“We should head back,” Phillip urged with a soft smile.

Eloise nodded in agreement, unaware of his mental and emotional plight, “Okay,”

As the pair traveled back to the house, they were greeted by the loud barking and boisterous ball of energy that was the family dog, Bessie running up to them.

“Hi, there!” Eloise laughed as she bent down to begin stroking the fur of the pup who was wagging her tail at the new guest, licking her fingers. “What is your name?” She spoke in a cooing tone of voice.

“Bessie,” Phillip said of the small English springer spaniel family dog, “The family dog we acquired less than a year ago for the twins.”

Bessie wagged her tail ferociously as she nuzzled her nose against Eloise’s palm and sniffed her before panting; forming a sort of dog smile as she looked up at the young woman.

“She is certainly friendly,”

“She likes you,” Phillip added.

Eloise smiled as she stroked her fur.

“Bessie!” Eloise heard the call from a young voice that drew her attention away from the dog and onto a little boy who was charging towards them.

“Father!” The energetic little boy greeted with excitement, “You are awake?!”

“Morning, Oliver,” Phillip laughed as the young boy went to give his father a small hug around his waist. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes!” Oliver exclaimed before getting distracted by the new guest currently petting his dog, “And who is this, father?”

Phillip scolded his insolence, “Let’s not be rude now, Oliver.”

“But I wish to know who she is!” Oliver complained. “Is she your lady friend?”

Phillip’s cheeks colored a slight reddish tint, as did Eloise, as the boy spoke bluntly.

The two adults glanced back at each other.

Phillip was almost certain Oliver did not know what the term ‘lady friend’ meant. He probably assumed it meant in the literal sense that she was a lady and a friend.

“N-No!” Phillip quickly responded, “I mean, yes she is a friend but—”

“I am Miss Bridgerton,” she said, taking over the conversation.

“Are you our new governess?” Oliver asked, with suspicion evident in his voice.

Eloise smiled, “Why, yes, I am.” She answered. “And you must be Oliver?” She tried to exhibit a sort of excitement she had seen from her sisters and sisters-in-laws whenever they talked to their children.

Eloise did not want to give off any impression that she was not good with children.

But there was something in the way the boy looked at her that made her slightly discomfited, perhaps he saw right through her shtick.

“You are our new governess,” He said again, although it sounded more like confirmation to himself.

“Yes, I am,”

He pouted as he looked down at his dog sniffing her feet. He then went to bend down to collect the spaniel in his small arms and hoisted her up, clutching her close to his chest before looking up at the woman again.

“You are very pretty,” he spoke. “You are too pretty to be a governess!”

Phillip coughed. Loudly. Uncomfortably.

Oliver did not seem to catch the hint, “Are you not supposed to be old?”

Eloise gasped; not in shock, but in amusement because she found his forwardness to be oddly refreshing.

“Oliver!” Phillip scolded. “I am terribly sorry for my son’s rude countenance.” He clasped the boy’s neck, dragging him towards his side.

“Ow!” Oliver playfully swatted his hand away but he soon got the hint and decided to quit making incendiary remarks.

“Apologies, Miss Bridgerton.” He stated. “I believe Oliver is rather grumpy this morning. He ought to learn to display proper manners, huh?” He said, ruffling his son’s curly hair and nudging him. “Maybe you should express your regret for your behavior to Miss Bridgerton,” He encouraged his son.

Oliver sighed, “Sorry,” He mumbled as he brought the dog’s face against his cheek and swayed it around as he cuddled her.

“No, it’s totally all right,” Eloise explained. “My younger brother pokes fun at me all the time,”

Oliver perked up as she said this and exhibited a rather mischievous grin on his face, “You have a younger brother?”

Eloise nodded, “Mhmm,”

“Does he perform pranks on you?”

“All the time,” She tried to establish common ground with him.

“Hmm,” He mumbled as he cuddled with his dog, “I have a sister as well. Amanda!”

“Is that so?” Eloise responded as she dropped down to his eye level.

Phillip smirked as he watched her interact with him.

“She is still sleeping, I think. Or perhaps getting ready. One of the two. She takes forever!” He groaned.

“Mmm,” Eloise hummed. “Us women tend to take a while to get ready, don’t we?”

“Mhmm,” He agreed.

Phillip shook his head as he watched the young miss humor the mind of his little boy.

“Perhaps, we should go meet this sister of yours?” She spoke.

He nodded, “Follow me!” He began, eagerly assuming the role that would’ve normally been assigned to the head of the household.

Phillip flashed an amused, surprised expression as he looked back at Eloise as their son led the way to the house.

Eloise giggled.

“Well, how the tables have turned,” He joked. “Now he wants to be the new Sir Oliver Crane,”

She laughed.

As they returned back into the house, Oliver set the dog onto the ground and called for his sister’s name.

Amanda suddenly appeared down the stairs, dressed in her pale pink chiffon dress and ballet flat shoes.

“Oliver! Why did you bring Bessie into the house? Now look! Her paws are dirtying the floor!” She complained.

Oliver grumbled, “Shut up!”

“You shut up!” Amanda fired back.

Bessie then began to bark as she stood in between the two bickering twins.

“Hey!” Phillip ordered his wrangling children with a clap of hands which seemed to do the trick as the two instantly fell quiet as they focused their attention on their father.

Amanda’s eyes locked with Eloise and immediately she froze and wore a blank facial expression; as she was now in the presence of a stranger in her house and not a family member or household staff who she was comfortable with.

“Children,” Phillip began, “This is Miss Bridgerton. She will be taking over Mrs. Millsby for the foreseeable future on a temporary basis. She is to be your new governess.”

Eloise smiled, waving her hand, “Hello!”

Children, that were not her own family, horrified her but she did not desire to show that. She wanted to ensure the children were at ease around her –which in turn would most likely keep her at ease.

Thenceforth, she sauntered her way up to the little girl who had not moved an inch since she laid eyes on Eloise.

“Good day,” Eloise spoke as she extended her hand out to the girl. “My name is Eloise. You must be Amanda?!” she thought it be best to introduce herself by her first name to the little girl.

Amanda stared at her outstretched hand; contemplating whether or not she would take it, but being deathly afraid to move a muscle. All she could do was stare at the woman.

“Erm, your father has told me a lot about you.” She tried to encourage, “You like to dance?”

The little girl did not budge.

Eloise was now running out of things to say, “You look very pretty in your little dress,” Eloise replied as she went to touch the fabrics.

But as soon as she inched closer to her, Amanda suddenly regained mobility and charged straight up the stairs as she ran away from the new guest and did not look back.

Eloise glanced back at Phillip who gave her a small, sympathetic shrug of the shoulders.

“She, uh, she’s a bit socially inept,” He informed her. “A rather shy little girl like I said before,”

Eloise nodded, “I see,”

Affirmatively, Eloise realized that the children would definitely be a challenge going forward.

Although, Eloise relished a challenge.

Chapter Text

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue
I'd go crawling down the avenue
Know there's nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love’

Make You Feel My Love – Adele (violin orchestral string quartet)

CHAPTER 12

February 3rd, 1822

Romney Hall

After a long day of being acclimated and inducted into the Crane household inner workings and meeting all the members of the household, Eloise thought it be best to retire to bed early that evening after dinner to prepare for tomorrow.

Tomorrow would be her first official day of work.

Actual work! 

She still could not believe she actually held a job. Granted, working as a governess was the last thing she ever saw herself doing as a career, however, she was not one to complain.

It was at least an honest job that would provide her the independence, income and freedom she needed to start building the life she had always dreamed of.

She hoped it would be a stepping stone to something greater in the future.

Today was an eye opening day for her, especially in relation to Sir Phillip.

Although, he was always present with her in showing her around the house and introducing her to the rest of the household, he was much more distant than he was the day prior for some reason.

Eloise attributed his countenance to him being professional since she was now just as his other employees —but she did notice he treated several of his household staff differently than she expected a normal employer would. 

Almost as if they were his family in a way. 

Especially Mrs. Millsby…

But other than that, he still appeared to be incredibly quiet and reserved. He did not speak much unless it was absolutely necessary.

He was still courteous, kind and welcoming, but not as open as he was in his letters.

Granted, Eloise probably wasn’t trying to establish anything other than a working relationship with him even though she believed they had a friendly rapport with one another.

The children were another conundrum that Eloise could not quite solve just yet. Oliver seemed decent enough, but from what she could deduce of him, he was mischievous. Although, he reminded her of Gregory in that way. It did not seem like anything she could not handle.

Amanda was unlike her brother though. She was incredibly shy.

Perhaps, too shy.

After she met Eloise, Amanda kept herself locked in her room and only came out to have lunch and dinner or to pet the dog. Sir Phillip reassured her not to take offense to it as it was nothing she had done that caused that reaction, but rather, the girl did not do well with meeting new faces.

Eloise could tell this new job would prove to be a challenge; but a welcomed challenge. However, naïve that may sound.

She only hoped the children liked her enough. She was never good with children, unless they were her younger siblings.

As Eloise was sauntering down the hallway, she overheard the muffled sounds of voices and giggles coming from one of the rooms.

The sounds grew more coherent the closer she approached the bedroom and when she reached the one bedchamber with a bright light shining out of it, hitting the wooden floors.

Eloise stood behind the door as she decided to poke her head passed the door, peaking in to see Sir Phillip, crouched down beside one of the twin’s bedside.

“I see your face,” Phillip whispered to the little girl before covering her face with a fabric doll, “Now I cannot see your face,”  He said, causing Amanda to giggle. “Where is Amanda, I wonder?”

Amanda gurgled as her laughter was muffled by the doll covering her face before she reached her hands up to swat it away, “Here I am!”

“Ah! There she is!” Phillip exclaimed in unadulterated joy in his voice which ignited a giggle from the little girl as she looked lovingly into her father’s eyes.

Phillip then tucked the fabric play doll in between the little girl’s eyes before tucking her comfortably underneath the covers.

“Father?”

Phillip looked down into his daughter’s eyes, “Hmm?”

“Why is Nurse Millsby leaving us?” She asked. “Does she not like us anymore?”

“Oh, Amanda. No, why would you think that? She loves you, and your brother dearly.” Phillip assured her, glancing back at Oliver who was in his bed covers as well. “She’s not leaving us, sweetheart. At least not at the moment,” He informed her. “She will still be with us for another month to help Miss Bridgerton,”

“How long is Miss Bridgerton going to be with us?” Oliver asked.

Phillip looked over at his son, “It will be temporary. Only until I find a more permanent governess,”

Oliver nodded his head as he fell quiet, sharing a look with Amanda.

“It will be fine,” Phillip reassured them as he stroked the forehead of his daughter; his hands grazing over her thick curly hair. “Tomorrow, I need you to be good for me, children. I trust that you will make Miss Bridgerton feel at home and welcomed. Hmm? Could you do that for me?”

The children dipped their heads up and down reluctantly

“Very well…” Amanda sighed begrudgingly as she smiled up at her father.

“That also goes for you, Oliver! Especially you!” He pointed his finger at the boy who looked slightly offended but pouted his lip and dropped his eyes.

“All right,” He whispered, almost inaudibly.

“What is that?” Phillip playfully sauntered his way over to his bedside, “I did not quite hear that, boy. May you repeat that?” He teased before reaching to begin laying his fingers all over his torso, tickling his tiny body which led to the young boy to convulse and echo in incontrollable laughter.

“All right, father! I will be good! Stop!” Oliver laughed loudly.

He tried to catch his breath as Phillip ceased his playful assault on him.

“Go to sleep,” He said, bending down to embed a gentle kiss on each of his children’s heads. “Goodnight, children.”

“Goodnight, father!”

Eloise couldn’t help but smile as she watched the exchange; experiencing memories resurfacing of her own father tucking her and her siblings to bed at night.

As Phillip went to turn the candle lights off, Eloise quickly scurried off quietly as she made her way to her bedroom where the housekeeper was preparing her bed for her.

“Evening, Signora Bridgerton!” The Italian housekeeper acknowledged her presence in a rather thick accent.

“Evening, Miss Clarisse,” Eloise greeted in reply, “I do call you Miss Clarisse, right? That is proper etiquette from your country?”

The housekeeper laughed elegantly, “You may call me whatever makes you comfortable, signora! I am just preparing the bed for you.”

Miss Clarisse was a rather elegantly dressed woman for a housekeeper. She was dressed in the traditional maid’s colors fit for a head housekeeper, but her styling was that of someone who was a lady of the house. If Eloise had not known any better, she would assume she was the lady of the house. A very fashionable woman.

“Thank you so much for all your aid, Miss Clarisse.” Eloise said to the head housekeeper as she adjusted the bed sheets and duvet.

“You are very welcome, dear,” She answered with a smile. “Sir Phillip wished for you to feel most comfortable throughout your stay,” She replied. “I had the maids warm your bed up for you hours ago so you needn’t worry about the cold air disrupting your sleep,”

Eloise smiled nervously as she enclosed her arm around the pillar at the edge of her bed, “Has Sir Phillip always been known to be quite…”

“Reserved?”

Eloise nodded her head.

“Well, I have not been working for him as long as others here. I was recently appointed in my new position a few weeks ago after taking over his longtime head housekeeper Mrs. Hurley, who I believe shall return in a few months,” She told. “But from the little I do know of him, he keeps to himself. So yes, he does seem to be reserved, more so now with the loss of the late Lady Crane, but he is an otherwise very kind gentleman. He always greets me with a pleasant and warm smile, always willing to lend a helping hand even if it’s not necessary,”

Eloise nodded her head.

“Perhaps, you would gather more reliable information about him from Mrs. Millsby. She was the one who was instrumental in raising him after his mother passed.”

Eloise shook her head, “Oh, no! It’s quite well. I was just…I was just curious, that is all.”

Miss Clarisse formed a small smile as she eyed Eloise up and down before bidding goodnight, “Very well. I hope you sleep well. Do not hesitate to call if you need anything. I will see you in the morning. Goodnight,”

Eloise nodded, “Goodnight,”

And then the housekeeper left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Eloise sighed as she reached for her luggage and hauled it onto the bed before unclipping and opening her suitcase filled with clothes and began sorting through them; placing some articles of clothing in the drawers and hanging others in the wardrobe.

She did not have any time to unpack her personal belongings ever since her whirlwind arrival last night; but it was not like she had much belongings anyway.

She did not bring much clothing along with her to last her more than two weeks. She wondered therefore if she would need to stop by a local modiste to acquire new garments; especially now in her new role as a governess.

Governess Bridgerton.

Eloise shook her head at the thought.

As soon as she was done unpacking, she undressed her clothes from the day and slipped into her sleeping nightdress before heading to the washroom to rinse her face clean.

Once she was done preparing for bed, she jumped straight into bed and nestled herself underneath the comfy covers and reached for her nightstand to blow the candles out.

… …

February 4th, 1822

The following day, Eloise was to begin her first day on her new job as the Crane’s governess.

When she woke up, she washed herself up and went to get dressed in a pastel cream dress that she picked out of her wardrobe. She wore her dark chestnut trusses in a neat bun, with a creamy ribbon keeping it in place.

As she went to retrieve a pair of shoes, she heard a strange croaking sound that she did not register in her head, but when it the noise became more prominent, she halted in her tracks to listen further.

The sound did not immediately return after that but it appeared as though it was coming from somewhere inside of the room.

Eloise decided it was probably nothing to worry about and she then continued about her preparation as she strolled across the room to her cupboard.

Subsequently, as Eloise opened the drawers and reached for her two shoes, the croaking sound resumed, but this time it was loud. And then in a blinding flash, all hell broke loose.

To her surprise and terror, a slimy green frog suddenly leaped out of her slippers and landing onto her head which caused her to shriek in a piercingly loud scream that the windows rattled at her high pitch wail.

“Oh!” She yelped as she sprinted around the room like a madwoman, shaking her hair frantically. “Get off! Get off! Ah!” She wept as she shook the frog off her head; with the disgusting creature landing onto the floor with a thud.

Eloise panted as she watched the tiny frog hop a few times on the wooden floor, before skipping onto the window pane and out of the window.

Clutching her heaving chest, Eloise could finally catch her breath.

Whew!

Ghastly creature!

That was quite literally the most horrific experience of her entire life!

How the hell did a frog find its way in her drawers?

The sound of a soft, mischievous giggle coming from behind her door answered her question. 

Eloise darted her head at her slightly ajar door to see the silhouette of the twins sneakily peeking through the opening;

Eloise furrowed her brows as she went to investigate, but as soon as they saw her approaching, the twins immediately scuttled away.

“Shh! She’s coming! Run!” She heard one of the twins whisper to the other before the taping of their feet disappeared from view as they traveled down the stairs.

Eloise swung the door open and watched the back Oliver’s shoe as he disappeared from view.

Eloise sighed.

Eloise made her way down the stairs and into the dining hall to have breakfast with the family.

As she waltzed into the room, she could see the family already digging into their breakfast meals, but they were all sat in silence.

A stark contrast to breakfast at Bridgerton House with all her siblings where conversation and movement was booming.

Sir Phillip’s head shot up –from slicing a piece of egg with his fork and knife – to acknowledge Eloise’s presence, as she made her way to her seat.

Eloise cleared her throat, “Good morning,” She greeted as she pulled up her chair and took her seat. “Apologies for being late this morning,”

Sir Phillip shook his head with a soft smile, “No—No, needn’t apologize. We would have waited for you but the children were hungry,” He explained. “Good morning, Miss Bridgerton,” He finally greeted.

Eloise smiled back politely as she shifted herself in the chair and grabbed a napkin to place onto her lap as she drifted her eyes onto the twins who were shying away from her gaze; perhaps to help stifle their laughs as to not appear too obvious.

“Good morning, children.” She acknowledged them with a sly smirk.

Amanda nervously shifted in her chair as she dropped her head down to her plate, whilst Oliver managed to bolster the courage to look up at her.

“Morning, Governess Bridgerton!” Oliver received with a cheeky smirk as he nudged his sister with his foot, causing her to jolt up.

“Morning,” The little girl murmured so low, one would wonder if she uttered a word at all.

Eloise smiled, then glanced over to Nurse Millsby, “And how do you do, Mrs. Millsby? I trust you slept well?”

“Indeed, Miss.” Mrs. Millsby answered with a slight nod.

“And I hope you slept well?”

Eloise turned her head around to see Sir Phillip looking directly at her from across the room as he assumed the head of the table.

“Very well, sir.” She answered. “Thank you.”

He chuckled nervously before beaming a smile, nodding his head before shifting his eyes back onto his newspaper reading whilst he ate.

“And how did you sleep?”

Sir Phillip looked up in confusion, “Pardon?”

“You. How did you sleep, my good sir?”

Sir Phillip cleared his throat as he wiped his mouth, “Good! Uh, I slept well, I think.”

“You think?” Eloise asked with a frown.

“I did!” He tried to reassure her. “I slept just fine. Thank you,” He clarified.

Eloise nodded as she dug into her meal, “I will say, I would like to thank the twins for this morning’s surprise.”

In that moment, Oliver and Amanda froze –with Oliver looking petrified with his mouth open wide, full of food and Amanda glaring at her brother, but fear and embarrassment all over her face.

“A surprise? What surprise?” Phillip asked.

Eloise smirked as she glanced at the children before turning to Phillip, “Oh! I’ll keep it between us but I thought it was very thoughtful and adorable.”

Amanda and Oliver kept their faces to their plates.

“It certainly made me skip and leap for joy!” She teased as she swallowed a piece of sausage. "Thank you for making feel welcome," 

Amanda made a clanking noise as she suddenly dropped her fork as her fingers were shaking nervously.

“Sorry,” She whispered, looking up at her father who was looking at her with a frown.

“What’s the matter, Amanda?”

“Oh, nothing! My fingers slipped. Sorry, father.” She apologized rapidly before stuffing her face with food.

Eloise’s smirk grew as she pressed her lips together, holding herself back from cackling as she resumed eating her meal.

Sir Phillip excused himself to meet with his secretary who had just arrived to discuss and tend to some business with him.

Eloise had not met his secretary but she had heard a lot about him. Apparently he was also another important figure in Sir Phillip’s life in a similar way Mrs. Millsby was.

“Children, are you done with your meal?” Mrs. Millsby asked.

The twins nodded, “All done!” They both responded in unison.

Mrs. Millsby stood up from her seat, “Very well. We ought to get started with your lessons then,”

Oliver grumbled in a moan as he swung his head back over against the chair.

“Miss Bridgerton will be joining us today. She will be helping me with the lessons until she takes over the lessons tomorrow,” Mrs. Millsby announced.

Eloise glared at her, “I am?”

Mrs. Millsby nodded, “Mhmm,” She hummed. “Now, come along, young ones!” She clapped her hands together before ushering the children out of their chairs and out of the dining hall and leading the way.

Eloise looked around anxiously before following the older governess’ tail.

As they exited and made their way to the classroom, Sir Phillip stopped Eloise in her tracks. “Miss Bridgerton!” He called out to her as he came out of his office.

Eloise spun around.

Sir Phillip flashed a bright smile as soon as he saw her face, his face positively lighting up at the young woman’s impeccable beauty, “Hi!” He panted out, as if he had to catch his breath for a second.

“Yes, sir?”

Sir Phillip cleared his throat, “Erm, I would like to introduce you to someone. Come inside,” He motioned for her to come in as he stood by the door.

Eloise glanced back at Mrs. Millsby who gave her an encouraging nod before ushering the children into the lesson room.

Thenceforth, Eloise turned around and walked towards the office, walking past Phillip as she entered the room –with Phillip getting a whiff of her scented hair in the process – before he closed the door behind her.

Eloise spotted a distinguished and venerable looking gentleman –not older than early to mid-forties if she hazarded a guess - seated on one of the mahogany leather single sofas.

“Miss Bridgerton,” Phillip began as his hands briefly pressed against the small of her back which involuntarily sent shivers down Eloise’s spine as she glanced down, staring at the corner of her eye at his long fingers peeking out from the side of her waist.

The graze was only momentary as Phillip swiftly dropped his hand to move it behind his back.

“This is my longtime secretary, Mr. Miles Carter,” Phillip introduced as he gestured to the man who stood up from his chair, “He has worked for the Crane family for nearly two decades. He was my father’s right-hand man and he’s been working for me ever since.”

Eloise nodded, “Oh!”

“Mr. Carter, this is Miss Eloise Bridgerton. The twin’s new governess.” He admitted.

Mr. Carter glared at Sir Phillip with eyes, “The Miss Bridgerton? The new governess?” He asked, requesting affirmative clarification and repetition.

Sir Phillip nodded.

Mr. Carter frowned but quickly ceased it to turn his attention onto Eloise as he outstretched her hand out to her, “Miss Bridgerton, it is lovely to finally meet you. I have heard a lot about you,”’

Sir Phillip suddenly cleared his throat, shooting a dangerous warning look at Mr. Carter who simply rolled his eyes and ignored him.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Carter,” Eloise replied, reciprocating his handshake.

“Miss Bridgerton will be with us on a temporary basis. She offered to work for us until I find a more permanent governess replacement for Mrs. Millsby,” He explained to him.

Mr. Carter nodded his head, although, it looked as though he had already known this information, “I see,” He responded before dropping her hand. “Well, welcome! I hope you enjoy your stay here out in the countryside!”

“Oh, I do. This place is wonderful,” She remarked. “Reminds me of my family country home in Kent. The grounds are magnificent, I told Sir Phillip yesterday. So are the paintings and artefacts. So much rich history on these walls,”

“Yes,” Mr. Carter replied, “This home has been standing for more than two hundred and fifty years. It’s rather unusually well-preserved for a house that –"

Phillip interjected. 

“Ancient? Old-fashioned? Antiquated?”

“Holding on,” Miles corrected. “Its history adds to its charm, do you not think so, Miss Bridgerton?”

Eloise nodded her head, glancing back at Sir Phillip, “Indeed,”

Sir Phillip sighed, shaking his head but smiling at her, “In any case, I also brought you here to gift you with something.” He said as he quickly ran over to his office desk.

Once he reached his desk, he unfurled his drawers and pulled out a book that was wrapped with brown paper and tied together by a string and several flowers.

“You mentioned that you were a fan of the rights of women and I read this book a few years ago.” He spoke as he walked towards her, “It’s the Declaration of the Rights of Women and The Female Citizen by a French author, Olympe de Gouges.” He said.

Eloise widened her eyes, “Oh! Sir Phillip, you did not have to.”

“I know – It’s an incredibly long title for a book. I would’ve shortened it myself, but I think it is otherwise a good read. Highly recommendable.” He replied.

Eloise was amazed.

Not least because it was a novel he had read for years or that he generously and graciously set it aside for her, or that it was a book on women’s rights (a kind of book men would rarely ever admit to reading).

She was amazed because…

This was the first time he spoke so animatedly in her presence.

“A little caution though, it is entirely written in French,” He informed her.

Eloise giggled as she took the book, “I am sure that will be fine. Thank you so much, Sir Phillip. I greatly appreciate it.” She replied, flipping open the book and skimming her eyes over the pages.

Sir Phillip smiled crookedly as he nervously shoved his hands into his pockets, “Uh…I also needed to let you know that I will be away for a few days.”

Eloise frowned, “What?” She demanded. “You’re leaving?”

“Only for a few days.” He answered. “Two or three days maximum. I have a few lectures to conduct in Cambridge until Friday,”

Eloise nodded, “Of course,”

“While I am away, I want you to be able to roam freely outside of the estate. I do not wish for you to feel like a prisoner in this home, Miss Bridgerton,” Phillip joked. “Therefore, I have assigned to you, your very own personal carriage. Gunning will give you the rundown on the arrangements. You may therefore travel to the local market or the modiste if you so wish. Anywhere you’d like,”

Eloise did not know what to say.

Nobody had ever been this generous to her before. She honestly never ever quite considered that people in the ton were kind. She had always imagined everyone was so fixated in their own lives and the lives of others that people tended to forget to be human.

In a way, Eloise had always dehumanized the members of the ton to the point where she did not expect someone to ever be genuinely nice and caring.

Phillip was nothing like the men in the ton.

He cared for the wellbeing of those around him. She had seen it with the way he treated the staff and how he treated his children.

“Wow,” Eloise remarked, clearing her throat. “Thank you. That would be perfect actually. I have been meaning to visit the modiste at some point,”

Sir Phillip nodded, “Perfect,” He said. “Anyway, I will be leaving later this afternoon,”

“Oh, I do not want to keep you waiting,” She spoke. “I ought to get back to the children. Thank you again for the book. And the carriage,” She giggled.

“You’re very welcome,”

Eloise smiled politely at Mr. Carter, “Lovely to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” He said with a courteous bow of the head.

As soon as Eloise left the room and shutting the door behind her, Sir Phillip could sense the judging eyes of Mr. Carter on him.

“What is it, Miles?” He sighed as she walked around his desk again to take a seat on his office chair.

Mr. Carter sighed, “Forgive me, sir but…Why?”

“Why what?”

Miles cocked his eyebrows, “You hired the young miss you have been corresponding with for the better of a year to be your children’s new governess?”

“Yes?” He said as if it was a question, “What’s the matter?”

“Sir, I have to caution you,” Miles Carter began, “Although, I have always expressed my support for this friendship you have developed with Miss Bridgerton, I certainly hope you are aware that the dynamic between you might become a point of contention,”

“Contention?”

“Your friendship,” Mr. Carter said, “It could be a conflict of interest since she is now a lot more than just your friend. She is your employee.”

“Oh,”

Phillip did not consider this fact.

Although, Phillip always thought himself to be quite professional and Eloise seemed to approach this arrangement in a similar fashion.

There was no room for a conflict of interest.

They both knew their places.

“Miles—Mr. Carter, you need not concern yourself over this,” He assured her. “Both Eloise and I are professional individuals and I assure you, she is very eager to earn an income to live an independent life. I do not think she would do anything to jeopardize that,”

“I suppose you are right,” Mr. Carter sighed, “As long as you know this then I guess there is nothing left for me to say. She does seem like an enchanting lass,”

“Yes, she does,” Phillip agreed.

Presently, the children were having their lessons with Nurse Millsby taking the reins whilst Eloise was sat on the sidelines, taking notes and examining her teaching style, her disciplining techniques and so forth.

“Now, Miss Amanda Crane, read the following passage for me.” Mrs. Millsby instructed.

The young girl glanced over to Eloise’s side, showcasing shy and timid eyes, before she began reading.

Eloise listened attentively to the girl read an excerpt from a children’s book she grew up reading herself.

Eloise was amazed at the wondrous and lovely way she was able to read so fluently, with incredible modulation, diction and clarity.

In that moment, she would not have sensed that the girl was the introverted, diffident and bashful little girl she first met a day ago.

“Excellent reading, Amanda!” Eloise pointed out as she applauded the little girl when she finished.

Amanda blushed, forming a small smile but never met her eyes.

Eloise’s smile dropped.

“Master Oliver Crane,”

Oliver bellowed in a moan before he begrudgingly began reading the following excerpt.

However, Oliver – bless his soul – struggled with his reading. It was difficult for him to comprehend word groupings, simple phrases, adhering to punctuation, inserting words that were not on the page and stumbling on repetitive or longer, difficult words. The struggles made for a rather fragmented, incoherent and disjointed reading display.

And he beat himself up about it as soon as he finished. Eloise could sense the frustration on his face that he did not get it right.

Eloise felt overcome with sympathy for the boy.

Subsequently, after a long three hours of lessons, the children had taken a break from school with Mrs. Millsby to enjoy their lunch.

She was sitting on the comfortable garden chair whilst she read her new book outside on the terrace, enjoying the fresh air, as the children munched on their bacon and cheese sandwiches with their lemonade.

Eloise was engrossed in the new novel, although, she did struggle on a few French words –her knowledge of the language was rustier than she remembered – but she did enjoy it so far.

Whilst she was reading, she suddenly shook at the sound of a dog barking.

“It’s just Bessie!” Oliver informed her.

Eloise looked over to him, “I see that,” She remarked.

Oliver then let out a loud, drawn out and unbecoming burp which caused both of the two girls to gag and make a face.

“Argh! Oliver! You are repulsive!” Amanda caterwauled as she waved her hand in the air as if to swat away the smell of his breath.

“That is disgusting, Oliver,” Eloise concurred.

“Sorry!” He apologized. “May I be excused to go play?”

“Are you done with your meal?”

Oliver vigorously nodded his head as he showed his empty plate to her.

“Very well,”

Oliver squealed as he leaped off his chair and ran down the terrace steps to begin chasing after the dog.

Thereafter, Eloise and Amanda both sat in silence as the little girl finished her meal.

The silence was at first comfortable.

But it soon became awkward.

At least from Amanda’s end.

And after a rigorous deliberation and debate in her head, she finally puckered up the courage to speak to Eloise.

“Governess Bridgerton?”

Eloise looked up, “Amanda?”

Although, it was a happy surprise to Eloise that she was finally speaking to her, Amanda had not looked up into her eyes yet.

“…The frog this morning was Oliver’s idea,” Amanda whispered. “I—I tried to convince him not to do it,”

Eloise laughed, “It’s okay, Amanda. I quite understand. My little brother and sister played pranks on me as well,”

Amanda smiled and nodded her head.

“May I have a refill of lemonade?”

Eloise glanced at the glass jug; the vessel was on its last drops from being emptied entirely.

“No problem,” She reached for the container and went to call for the servants but they were nowhere in immediate sight, “The servants seem to be busy. I’ll go see if I can get a refill for you,”

Amanda smiled sweetly as she sheepishly looked up before looking over her shoulder to watch her brother playing with the dog.

“You may go play with your brother and the dog,” She told her.

Amanda bit her lip before jumping out her seat and running away.

Eloise shook her head as she stood up, placing her book in between her armpit, and making her way back into the house where she was met with the butler entering the room.

“Oh! Gunning! Good!” She exclaimed. “Could you please ask one of the servants for a refill of lemonade for the children?”

“Miss Bridgerton…That is quite literally my job.” He substantiated.

Eloise flushed, “Right,” She remarked as she handed him the jug.

Gunning bowed his head, “One refill of lemonade coming right up,” He stated before disappearing out of the room and making his way to the kitchen.

As Eloise waited patiently, Phillip entered the room dressed in a dapper meadow green waistcoat and suede brown jacket with a floral cravat –a clear indication that he was due to leave soon.

“You’re still here?”

“Yes! I had a few matters to attend to but I will be on my way in a few minutes,” He answered with a sigh as he ran his fingers through his light brown hair that he swept back in neatly quaffed waves.

His disposition looked as though he was agitated.

“Anxious for your lectures?” She teased.

He shook his head, “No! I have a faculty meeting tonight upon arrival and I have to make a speech,” He answered as he pulled out a piece of paper that seemed to have his speech written on it.

“Are you not big on public speaking?”

Phillip exhaled a breath, “No—Not really,” he nervously chuckled. “I can speak fine in front of one person, two people, maybe even five or ten but definitely not fifty some faculty members, as well as in front highly educated and wealthy potential sponsors.”’

“Sponsors?”

“I wish to include a summer program for botany students at Cambridge that would eventually lead to the university commissioning its very own conservatory,” He said, “And I need to convince these investors to…invest in it,” He added.

“That’s incredible,” she spoke, “I would have thought that the university would have a conservatory,”

“Not yet,”

She nodded.

“How is the book?”

“Oh,” Eloise glanced down, “Wonderful! A great read, in fact! It’s funny, I realized I had left all my books at home before I came here,” She snorted, “So I am happy I have a book to keep me engaged,”

“You do not have any books to read?”

“Unfortunately not,” She answered.

Sir Phillip had a thoughtful expression.

“What is it?”

“There is something I want to show to you,” He mentioned, “Follow me,” He stated before leading the way.

Eloise frowned in intrigue as her legs carried her in the direction to where Phillip was leading them to; a section of the house she was never privy to before.

They strolled along the dark, gloomy antechambers of the house on the west wing. Eloise almost wondered if she was in the world of Sleepy Hollow in that moment.

“You are not leading me to my death, are you Sir Phillip?”

Phillip glanced at her, “What?”

“Where are you taking me?” She laughed.

"Just wait and see,” He told her as they approached two large antique, patterned, brown wooden doors.

“Most of the time, I use this place to garner information on subjects related to my work but other times I spend my free time reading whatever I can find,” He began before reaching for the handles to open the doors wide and waltzing into the room.

As Eloise followed suit, her eyes were astonished at the sight before her. She could not fathom putting into words at just what a glorious sight it was.

Books.

Books at every corner.

Books upon books on every shelf.

Literature. Old. New. Historical. Modern day. Fictional. Fact.

It was a treasure trove of literary wonder.

The library room was so large, she could have fit her bedchamber in it twice, maybe even thrice more.

“I’m sure you can find at least one or two books of interest in here,” He remarked nonchalantly.

Eloise did not say anything.

She was too distracted by the enchanting vision she saw of collected works display to even articulate a thought.

“What?”

“I cannot believe it!” She pointed out in awe. “I have never seen so many books in my entire life.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes!” She gasped out, her hands flying to her lips, her fingers delicately tracing her lips as she salivated, “This is absolutely wonderful! How many books are in here?”

Sir Phillip smiled as he watched the woman react favorably to his collection of books.

“I’ve lost count, in truth,” he answered truthfully, “If I had to hazard a guess, it is around the ballpark of ten, maybe fifteen thousand books?”

Eloise comically twirled on her heel to glare at Phillip as if he had spouted crazy talk.

“Are you quite serious?”

He shrugged.

“And have you really read every single one of these books?”

He frowned, “No—Not all of them. Definitely not! I wish though. Most of it is collected from over the centuries in the family,”

She scoffed, “Wow!” She shook her head. “I could literally live here and never see the light of day and I would be content.”

“You would?”

She nodded as she animatedly twirled around the room like a ballerina, going from each corner to scan her eyes over each book she could find.

“You have murder mystery novels? Argh! I love those!” She remarked as she pulled a book off the shelf and ran her eyes through the pages. “Anything that has to deal with investigative literature, be it fictional or nonfiction is what excites me a lot.”

“Yes,”

“And you have romance?” She questioned as she reached for a Guinevere and Lancelot book, “I would never have pegged you as someone interested in silly romances, Sir Phillip.” She jokingly mocked him.

Sir Phillip smiled weakly as he sauntered his way to her side and stood close to her.

He took the book from her hands to look at the cover, reminiscing.

“This was my mother’s favorite novel,” He informed her. “Guinevere and Lancelot was her favorite love story. That and The Winter’s Tale by William Shakespeare. Mother had my brother and I reenact a lot of scenes from her favorite plays. I remember enjoying A Midsummer Night’s Dream,”

Eloise smirked as she looked up into his eyes; his piercing cornflower blue eyes that seemed so sweet, and almost innocent in that moment.

She then moved her eyes back down to the book.

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream is one of my favorites as well. My best friend Penelope loves it,”

Sir Phillip formed a lopsided, yet weak smile, “Well, if you like the library so much then it is yours. You may also use it for the twin’s lessons if you’d like.”

“I suppose it’s good for them to have a change of scenery once in a while,” She responded. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” He whispered as his eyes locked in an intense gaze with hers.

It did not dawn or register to them just how close the proximity of their bodies were to one another in that very moment.

Their closeness felt so natural that it did not come to mind that they were both in a position that if someone were to walk through the doors and see them, assumptions would be raised.

There was no weird, underlying tension between them that would suggest there was anything going on between them in that moment. It felt comfortable.

But the optics from an observer’s perspective would surely suggest otherwise.

It was not until Phillip heard the whispers of some of the servants walking by from outside of the room down the corridor that he soon came back down to earth from his mental utopia.

“Ahem,” He cleared his throat as he took several paces back and handed the book back to her, “I, should, uh….I should probably get a move on,”

Eloise nodded her head, “Yes! Yes! And I s-should—should probably return to the children soon,”

“Yes,” He repeated, “Yes,”

Eloise reiterated clumsily, “Yes,”

“…Yes,” Phillip uttered, “Yes, well, the request for a formal chaperone for you has taken longer than I expected. I haven’t gotten a response yet so in the meantime, I will have a maid act a chaperone for you, just until my aunt arrives in a two or three weeks,”

“Your aunt?” She asked. “From London?”

“No! My aunt from Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland!”

Eloise nodded.

Right!

She recalled from their correspondence that Phillip was half-Scottish from his mother’s side.

“So, I will see you in a few days then,” He said. “Write to me if you need any assistance in anything.”

“Will do,”

“Very well,” He spoke.

Sir Phillip gave Eloise one last look, a look that reminded her of the moments where he was sent into a inattentive, woolgathering daze, before turning around and walking out of the library.

What a peculiar man. Eloise thought.

Chapter Text

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own
I made up my mind, I'm better off bein' alone
We met a few weeks ago
Now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes

Salute to me, I'm your American Queen
And you move to me like I'm a Motown beat
And we rule the kingdom inside my room
'Cause all the boys and their expensive cars
With their Range Rovers and their Jaguars
Never took me quite where you do

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for
King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa
And all at once, you're all I want, I'll never let you go
King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa

And all at once, I've been waiting, waiting
Ooh whoa, ooh whoa
And all at once, you are the one, I have been waiting, waiting
Body and soul, ooh whoa
And all at once

King of My Heart – Taylor Swift (orchestral string quartet arrangement)

CHAPTER 13

February 5^th, 1822

Romney Hall

Eloise wished she could say the next couple days went with a blur or that they all went smoothly with no hiccups –but it was definitely quite an experience to say the least.

Sir Phillip was away for two or three days in Cambridge where he had several lectures to conduct at the University of Cambridge.

And while he was there he was meeting with faculty members and sponsors for this big botany conservatory project of his.

He had a valid reason not to be around.

But…

With Phillip gone, effectively out of sight and out of mind, one young Oliver Crane was therefore compelled to commence his antics and shenanigans all over the house.

It was as if Phillip's absence seemed to have been the only obstacle getting in the way of his mischiefs; of holding him back from wreaking terror.

On the first night after Phillip left for Cambridge, the schemes for Oliver’s impending descent into wickedness were already in motion. It was clear in the air of the house.

The household could sense something ominous was looming.

After their dinner, Oliver grabbed hold of his sister’s hand and took her into their bedchamber to devise a plan for the coming days.

Their main target: Eloise.

“We have to get the new governess to leave,” He told her.

Amanda frowned at her brother, “Miss Bridgerton? Why?”

“Why not?”

“What has she done?”

“She’s the reason Nurse Millsby is leaving us!” He pointed out. “If it wasn’t for her arrival, Mrs. Millsby would still be our governess,”

Amanda rolled her eyes as she got up from the bed, “You don’t know that for sure!”

“Do you not want Nurse Millsby to stay?”

“Yes, I do!” She stated. “But father said she is retiring,”

“She would stay if we don’t have a governess,” Oliver countered. “Mother would have wanted her to stay,”

Mentioning their mother triggered something within Amanda. She had always loved her mother dearly when she was alive. The twin’s mother loved Mrs. Millsby very much, so in action, the twins loved her because they loved whatever she loved. They loved the things that made their mother happy because she was not a happy person.

The twins saw their mother’s melancholy, without ever understanding why she was that way. They could not conceptualize what she was going through in her melancholic state. But they did know the things that gave her happiness.

Mrs. Millsby provided some happiness to their mother when she started working for the family months before she died.

She trusted the governess.

And therefore the children were able to trust her as well.

“I don’t like Miss Bridgerton,” Oliver reiterated.

“Why?”

Oliver thought, trying to conjure up a reason, “She is too…young,” He whispered with a pout, “And she’s too pretty! Too young and pretty to be our governess,”

Amanda just shrugged her shoulders.

“We cannot have her as our new governess!”

“But she’s nice!”

“And she’s going to want us to work harder,”

“Is that not a good thing?”

“No!” Oliver objected. “We need to tell her to leave or give her a reason to quit,”

“I don’t know, Ollie,” Amanda replied.

“It will work. Trust me.” Oliver explained. “With father away, we can have her packing her bags and gone before he even comes back!”

Amanda sighed. “How are we even going to do that?”

Oliver smirked devilishly, “Leave that to me,”

That night, Oliver snuck into Eloise’s bedroom while she was not around –with Amanda standing at the door and acting as the lookout. He tiptoed to her bedside and snatched one of her pillows and began filling the pillow case with a surprise for her to find out.

Once he was satisfied, he snuck out of the room and closed it before taking his sister back to their bedroom.

After sitting by the fireplace and reading her book, Eloise called it a night and made the journey back to her bedchamber to prepare for bed.

She sighed as she flipped open the covers and slipped into her bed.

The second her head came into contact with the pillow, she heard a sudden cracking sound that turned into the sensation of a slimy substance. Her head shot up as she grabbed her pillow and opened it wide to reveal at least six cracked; splattered everywhere.

She sniffed.

And the most horrendous, vomit inducing stench emitted out of the pillow that quickly filled the air.

Six rotten eggs!

She gagged.

…Those darn twins! Eloise thought to herself.

February 6th, 1822

The next day, Eloise was to begin her teaching lessons as a governess to the children for the first time.

To say she was apprehensive for today was an understatement.

Nurse Millsby was going to be around to monitor her —which also in itself put her in a daunting position.

She did not want to mess up!

But as she found herself standing in front of the children in their provisional classroom, she was left unable to capture their attention in the way she intended.

“Have you done your reading this morning?’

Oliver and Amanda looked at her; blinking.

“How is your arithmetic coming along?”

Oliver and Amanda did not answer.

“Very well,” Eloise sighed, “Let me test your knowledge then. A father left his eldest daughter £1,500 more than his youngest daughter, and the eldest daughter's fortune was £11,111 and 11 pence. What was the eldest daughter's fortune, and how much did the father leave them in total?”

Oliver yawned dramatically whilst Amanda looked over to the side in disinterest; although she could tell Amanda was not as fully committed to the bit as Oliver was.

Eloise could tell the girl was aching to give the answer to the math problem even behind the farcical performance she was displaying.

She knew that look all too well.

As a fellow overachiever in schooling when she was her age, she could tell it was difficult for Amanda to not participate.

Eloise smiled, “Amanda, would you like to try?”

Amanda looked at her, “Me?”

Eloise nodded encouragingly.

Amanda quickly retrieved her abacus and writing paper and pen and began calculating; much to the offense and dismay of her older twin brother.

Approximately two minutes later, Amanda’s hand shot up and she raised her paper in the air with pride.

“The youngest daughter got £12,111 so the eldest daughter got £13,611 which makes a total of £25,722.” She answered.

Eloise smiled, “That is correct, Amanda! Well done!” Eloise answered as she went to write the answers down on the board.

Amanda smiled brightly.

“Stop it,” Oliver growled at her in a low whisper.

Amanda frowned, pouting at him, “What?”

“Oliver!” She called. He turned to her. “If Amanda has 15 apples and gives 4 away, but 1 is returned back to her, how many apples does she have left?”

Oliver thought about it but dropped his facial contortion to look disinterested again, “I don’t know,”

Eloise cocked an eyebrow, “Wrong answer,”

He grumbled, “I truly do not know,”

“Write it down,”

He moaned as he theatrically and begrudgingly took his pen and began calculating the word problem on the paper. It took him slightly longer than his sister to get to an answer.

“Erm…Nine?”

Eloise shook ahead, “Try again. Think of the question again. 15 apples, 4 are given away and 1 is returned to her. How many apples are left?”

Oliver counted on his fingers, “Twelve?”

Eloise’s eyes widened, “Yes! Yes! Very good!”

Oliver’s face lit up as he got excited to have finally gotten something right in school.

He immediately pulled his fists back in triumph.

Eloise smiled with a similar sense of victory that she finally was able to get through to them and glanced over at Mrs. Millsby who gave her a nod of approval.

About an hour later, Nurse Millsby excused herself for a brief respite.

Eloise turned to the children, “You two are doing well,”

Oliver and Amanda looked at one another; as if they were having some telepathic communication with one another and then decided to not respond to her.

Eloise sighed, “I found your gift in my pillow last night,”

Oliver covered his mouth with his fisted hand to withhold himself from falling into hysterical laughter.

“Rotten eggs as well? How original,” She said, giving them a wink. “But I think that is one of the oldest pranks in the books. Surely you can do better than that,”

Oliver’s smile fell down as he picked up on her making fun of his prank.

Clearly she was not fazed by it.

Oliver accepted the challenge though.

Eloise smirked as she jotted something on the board, “Why do you do the pranks anyway?”

“We don’t like you!” Oliver spoke rashly. 

Eloise turned around to look at him, “You don’t like me?”

He nodded his head confidently.

Amanda hid her face away from Eloise tentatively when she glanced her way.

“May I ask why?”

“We prefer Nurse Millsby!” Oliver answered.

Eloise bobbed her head, “I see,”

Mrs. Millsby warned her that the children might take a while to warm up to her. They’ve had a series of governesses come and go over the years, and she was the only one who managed to stay the course.

The children obviously felt a sense of allegiance to her.

“You need to go,” Oliver blurted out, his arms crossed so tightly that his face as turning red, “We don’t need you! We prefer Mrs. Millsby!”

“Yes, you made that clear.” Eloise replied, politely as she turned around to continue writing on the board. “Well, I am not leaving until you find a new permanent governess so you are stuck with me until then,” Eloise told them, firmly.

Oliver and Amanda shared another look.

“It will take a lot more than frogs and eggs in my bedroom to send me away,”

Eloise would later regret saying that.

Later that day, the twins went playing outside in the garden and walked down the hill near the lake.

“We need to think of something better to get Miss Bridgerton to leave,”

“I don’t think anything will work on her,” She said. “You heard what she said?”

“I have an idea,” He said, throwing a stick to the side for the dog to go fetch. “But I will need your help,”

“I do not feel so good about doing this, Oliver.” Amanda spoke. “What has Governess Bridgerton done to deserve this?”

“Nothing!”

“Then why are we doing it?”

“Because it’s fun!”

“We did not do this to Nurse Millsby!”

“That is because Nurse Millsby is an old woman!” Oliver responded, “She was gonna fall off the bone anyway. The pranks would not be enjoyable,”

Amanda sighed, “What do you want?”

Oliver smiled as he looked over to the lake that their father had forbidden them to ever visit.

He then looked over to the tree to see a bunch of acorns on the ground.

“Help me pick these up!” He ushered her as he ran over to the big tree.

In the evening when they were about to have dinner, the children made sure to be ready and seated before anyone else.

“Evening, all!” Eloise greeted as she entered the room with a cheerful smile.

“Good evening, Miss Bridgerton,” The children greeted.

As Eloise went to take a seat on her chair, she immediately yelped in a piercingly loud shriek and shot up instantly as the agonizing stabbing and prickling of sharp objects caused her excruciating pain.

She looked down to see several tiny, sharp acorns placed on her chair; she counted at least seven.

The twins chuckled in fits of giggles as the servants observed the comedic display as they brought the food in.

Eloise’s face was washed with ruddiness; she was mortified because her reaction was most inelegant and ungraceful.

Gunning walked into the room with an amused expression, “Miss Bridgerton? Are you quite well? You seem a bit prickly?” He teased.

Oliver and Amanda fell into hysterical guffaws.

Eloise rolled her eyes and sighed.

February 7^th, 1822

The following morning, Eloise woke up and got dressed for the day. She went to the wardrobe to slip on her formal working shoes.

They felt softer than usual but she didn’t think anything of it as she walked down the stairs to have breakfast.

As she went to sit down on her chair, she suddenly could hear the growling and snarling sounds of the family dog Bessie baring its canine teeth up at her.

Eloise liked dogs. Her family had dogs when she was younger. But she was not entirely a dog person—she much preferred cats to dogs— because dogs terrified her when they got aggressive.

But she thought Bessie was a friendly, well-trained and adorable enough dog when they first met.

This was not the overly friendly dog she had known for almost a week now.

 “What’s wrong with her?”

Bessie barked.

Gunning looked over, “Bessie! Stay!”

Bessie barked again.

“Bessie!” Gunning grunted as he went to grab her by the collar but she barked more.

The English springer spaniel quickly maneuvered out of his grasp to charge for Eloise’s feet and began licking her shoe before attempting to bite at it; chewing and chomping on the fabrics.

Eloise gasped, “What is she doing?”

“I don’t know! Bessie!” Gunning called, “It appears she wants to eat your shoes for breakfast,”

Eloise shot up from her chair as the dog’s teeth had a firm, tight grip on her shoe.

“Could you get her off?!” She started speaking impatiently.

Gunning sighed as he bent down to reach for the dog, “Bessie! Let go of the miss! Now!” He ordered as he peeled the small dog off her foot.

“Did you shove meat in your shoes this morning, Miss?” Gunning laughed as he stroked Bessie’s fur.

“What? Why would I—” She paused as she thought about it.

Oliver and Amanda.

She groaned as she bent down to take a shoe off her foot and sniffed it.

And what do you know?

It smelled like raw meat; ground beef to be exact.

She grinded her teeth together, gnashing them hard.

“…Those children are a nuisance.” She muttered underneath her breath.

“Would you like me to—?”

“No, I have it under control,” She informed him as she took her second shoe off before marching out of the room barefooted, in just her white stockings.

“Children!” She called in a raised voice. “Oliver! Amanda—” She was instantly interrupted by the sudden gush of cold, cold water pouring down onto her head and onto her body; essentially leaving her drenched.

Gasping, shivering and huffing, Eloise was way passed the edge of equanimity.

“Ah!” She screamed.

Then she heard giggling.

They had the audacity to giggle!

Her blazed eyes darted up to see the children looking down at her from the balcony, with entertained facial expressions; Oliver looked beside himself with satisfaction as he pulled back the bucket he used to dunk water on her.

“You—!” She trailed off as she stumbled on the right words to use that weren’t absolutely vulgar or foul.

She chose to refrain from saying anything further.

As if things weren’t already humiliating enough for her, Oliver proceeded to drop a bag of flour onto her already damp and wet head of hair and body.

Suddenly, there was an audience of watching as the servants came into the scene.

Gunning gasped, “Goodness….” He muttered to himself as he ran over to her side.

Eloise’s eyes closed as she coughed up the white flour out of her mouth and then shook her white as sheet powdered arms.

She did not even want to imagine how dreadfully grotesque and horrifying she appeared in her current condition. 

“Miss Bridgerton—”

“Don’t!” Eloise shouted, raising her finger in the air whilst wiping some flour off her eyes. “Don’t say another word,”

Oliver and Amanda laughed.

...  ... 

Later that morning, Eloise managed to wash away most of the residue of flour off her chestnut hair and changed into a new fresh set of clothes.

She was running out of clothes to wear.

Stopping by the local modiste sounded like a plan to spend her day.

Never did she wish to go to the modiste more than she wanted to in that moment.

She heard a light tap on her bedchamber door.

“Enter!” She stated.

The head housekeeper, Miss Clarisse, entered the room with a tray of tea for her.

“Your tea, miss,” She smiled sympathetically. “Apologies for the unfortunate events that transpired this morning with the twins. They are quite a rambunctious pairing,”

“Have they always been this bad?”

She sighed, “They’ve always been a little bit mischievous here and there, but not to the degree they have been as of late. Not since their mother died.”

“Have they done something like this to other governesses?”

“Yes,”

Eloise sighed, “Oh! I suppose I should be relieved that this isn’t an isolated incident against me, then.”

Miss Clarisse did not respond.

“How did the governesses employ discipline?”

“Sir Phillip frowns upon spanking or whipping children. That is the number one rule—”

“Oh—I would never do that,”

“Yes, well, an incident occurred with one governess years ago when the children were maybe…all but four years old? I think the governess’ name was Nurse Edwards, I believe.” Miss Clarisse revealed. “She was recruited from a nanny agency where they believe in physical spanking as discipline. Sir Phillip did not know about this so when he found out he grew incandescent with rage; he was purely livid and threatened to take litigation at the nanny and the institution to the courts,”

Eloise’s eyes widened, “Wow,”

“She did not last longer than a few days on the job, and she got her license revoked,”

“Well, that is good…”

Eloise knew of those type of childcare agencies. It was pretty common in the ton to hire childcare services where physical punishment was an accepted form of punishment.

She was thankful she never grew up in that household before.

“I heard it from the other servants but they tell me they have never seen him angry before, but that day was certainly a day they would not remember.” She stated.

“I can imagine,” Eloise sighed, “He only wished to protect his children,”

“Indeed,” Miss Clarisse said. “From there on, Sir Phillip has personally interviewed each and every one of the governesses before he hires them. He ensured all of them were vetted before a preliminary interview took place.”

“How does Sir Phillip discipline his children then?”

Miss Clarisse shrugged her shoulders.

“He has to have an opinion when the children act this way. What does Sir Phillip have to say about it?”

 “He is quite stern I suppose. You’ve seen him with the children, correct?”

Eloise nodded.

Whenever the children said or did something out of turn in his presence, he did speak to them in a way that showed his authority over them without appearing domineering and they appeared to heed his parental direction.

However, she couldn’t help but feel as if he sometimes lets them get away with a lot more than they should be. By his own omission, he was a reserved individual. And he was incredibly kind and generous.

Perhaps, the children take advantage of his kindness.

She wonders then if he should be more firm with them. She knows she would be if they were her own children.

Perhaps that is why she shouldn’t be a mother one day.

Another reason not to have children.

Unruly children!

“He has done all he can to control the situation, and the children are normally mostly on their best behavior when he is around but…” She paused as she set the tray on the bedside table, “If you ask me, I think the children are behaving this way because they find it hard to accept change. It has nothing to do with you in particular but it likely relates to their mother. The late Lady Crane did not have the happiest of experiences here and that might have impacted the children somehow,”

“Wait—why was she unhappy?”

Miss Clarisse sighed, “I have already said too much,”

“No—”

“It is not my place, signora.” She backed away with a curtsy. “I hope you enjoy your tea,”

Eloise exhaled after the housekeeper left her bedchamber.

She glanced over to the tray of the tea to see a letter placed on the silverware as well.

She reached for it and opened the letter with sweet-smelling, odorous pink azalea flowers pressed into it.

Eloise grinned.

She could recognize that penmanship and anecdotal floral display on the letter anywhere.

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I trust you are doing well holding down the fort there. I hope the children are not driving you to the point of insanity. If they are, please let me know.

Oh wow! It was as if he instinctively knew what was happening outside of his glare.

I found these pink azaleas blossoming on the campus courtyard. Beautiful, are they not? Their fragrance is delightful as well. They represent mounds of luck which I am sending your way for the remaining two days. I shall be home by Friday evening. But if you would like to ever speak with me about anything? If you need any assistance at all, do not hesitate to write to me. I am a mere three hour journey after all.

Tell the children I do miss them, terribly. And that I will see them soon.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

What a sweet letter.

Eloise did not expect him to write to her; honestly, she thought that tradition changed the moment he hired her to work for him but it was thoughtful that he still kept up their preferred line of communication.

Subsequently, Eloise chose to write back to him.

February, 5^th, 1822

Cambridge University

As soon as Phillip finished speaking, he was finally able to breathe as the crowd of invited guests, sponsors and faculty members gave him a rousing applause.

He gave a little bow of the head as he got off the stage, shook a few hands with the university’s chancellor, vice-chancellor, headmaster and sponsors –all of whom gave him high praise for his speech – before he immediately made a beeline for the refreshments table to gain some composure.

Speaking to a room full of fifty some people was daunting for Phillip to say the least. He was relieved it was all over.

As Phillip was pouring himself a glass of sparkly champagne, he heard the loud footsteps of heels approaching his way.

He staggered his head around to see a distinguished woman with neatly heaved back honey-blonde hair and deep blue eyes with a bold red lip.

If Phillip hazarded a guess, she did not look older than thirty.

“Sir Phillip Crane, I take it?” She spoke with a thick, posh English accent as she delicately extended her hand out to him; pointing her gloved fingers towards him.

He glanced down before taking her hand and shaking it, "Yes,”

“I thoroughly enjoyed your speech up on that stage,” She spoke with a deep cackle. “You are an intelligent, confident and eloquent speaker,”

Sir Phillip chuckled, blushing, “That is high praise but I assure you, I was dreading it the whole way through. My knees were beginning to fail me and I was on the verge of profuse perspiration,”

She laughed loudly, “If there were nerves, I certainly did not sense it. You carry yourself incredibly well; with great charm and an enchanting presence. I hold you in high esteem,”

Sir Phillip smiled, “Thank you for your kind words, Mrs...” He frowned as he waited for her to introduce herself.

“Lady Elizabeth Strauss,” She spoke. “But you may call me Lizzy,”

Sir Phillip smiled, “Lizzy, it is pleasant to meet you,”

It was so refreshing to have normal conversations with entitled members of the ton who were not pretentious or prone to snobbery.

“I take it you are one of the sponsor’s wives?”

Lady Elizabeth smirked, “I am a sponsor,”

Sir Phillip’s face dropped as he realized his presumptuous error of judgment.

“Forgive me, my lady,” He said with a bow of the head.

She laughed, “It is quite well, Sir Phillip. My late husband, Lord Francis Strauss, was on the Cambridge board before he passed away a year ago,”

“You have my deepest sympathies,”

“As do you,” She spoke. “I heard you are also a widower? Lost your wife in death as well a year ago?”

He simply nodded his head.

“I suppose we can bond on our collective loss,” She stated with a soft chuckle.

His lips apprehensively curved lopsidedly.

He went on to have a lengthy conversation with the widowed lady. Sir Phillip was never the conversationalist unless the person wished to hear about his own interests but most of the time he preferred to listen to other people speak so she did most of the talking.

As the night drew to an end, Phillip retreated back to his apartment that was offered to him on the Cambridge grounds.

Whilst he laid in bed, he couldn’t help but think of his children who he missed terribly. He missed their loud voices ringing through the entire house.

He hoped they were behaving themselves with Miss Bridgerton.

He could trust her with the children. But he was not one hundred present sure he could trust the children would treat their new governess well. 

She surely would write to him if things went into disarray, right?

Consequently, he decided to write to her.

Dear Miss Bridgerton,

I trust you are doing well holding down the fort there. I hope the children are not driving you to the point of insanity. If they are, please let me know.

I found these pink azaleas blossoming on the campus courtyard. Beautiful, are they not? Their fragrance is delightful as well. They represent mounds of luck which I am sending your way for the remaining two days. I shall be home by Friday evening. But if you would like to ever speak with me about anything? If you need any assistance at all, do not hesitate to write to me. I am a mere three hour journey after all.

Tell the children I do miss them, terribly. And that I will see them soon.

Yours in friendship,

Phillip Crane

February 7^th, 1822

The following day, Eloise responded to his letter which he took the time to read during his lunch break.

Dear Sir Phillip,

Well…All is well here! I think. The children are spirited I should say.

They do miss you too. Oliver absentmindedly called out for you in your office thinking you were there.

Yours in friendship,

Eloise Bridgerton

Phillip chuckled as he read the recollection of his young boy.

He couldn’t wait to see them soon.

February 8^th, 1822

Modiste

The next day, Eloise planned to take a trip to the local modiste in hopes of finding some suitable clothes for the remainder of her stay here.

However, she was starting to really reconsider if becoming the Crane twin’s governess was the right decision.

She was being in over her head.

She was not good with children. She would never be good with children. Why was she kidding herself into thinking she would ever establish common ground with children?

“Miss Bridgerton?”

Eloise expressed a heavy sigh as she halted in the foyer before twirling around to see the young Amanda standing behind her; dressed in a pastel colored dress that was an inch too short above her ankles.

“Yes, Amanda?”

“Where are you going?”

“To the modiste, why?” She spoke.

Amanda nervously swayed back and forth, “May I come with you?”

“Why? So you can stuff Bessie’s excrement in my shoes there?”

Amanda’s face dropped; hanging in sudden shame.

Eloise sighed, “Let us go,” She uttered.

Amanda’s head shot up, beaming widely as she sprinted towards her and voluntarily took her hand.

Eloise was shocked at this as she glanced down at the little girl, but she did not question it and just continued walking until they made it to the carriage.

The coach stopped by a nearby clothing shop where Eloise and Amanda looked around for new dresses.

“What type of dress are you looking for?” Amanda asked, in an attempt at small talk.

It was a step up from her usual quiet disposition.

“Any dress, really.”

“You should get a green dress! Green is father’s favorite color,” Amanda stated.

Eloise glance down at her, “Is that so?”

Amanda nodded her head, “He says it reminds him of spring time and the forest.”

Eloise smiled, “What do you think about lilac?”

“I like it,”

“Lilac was my father’s favorite color,”

“Is he still alive?”

Eloise shook her head, “Sadly, he is not. He died when I was about your age,”

Amanda’s eyes bulged, “Your papa died when he was young too?”

“Yes,” Eloise answered. “He was a very entertaining parent; full of exuberance and light.”

Amanda displayed a sorrowful expression, “I wish mother was happy,”

Eloise stared down at the girl. It came out of nowhere. She did not expect to hear those words come out of the little girl’s lips. She would have asked her to elaborate further but she did not find the correct words to articulate her thought in that moment.

So she just resorted to changing the topic swiftly to a new one.

“Uh, what do you think of this dress?” Eloise’s hand landed onto the floral pink dress.

Amanda’s eyes widened, “Oh it is wonderful indeed!” She gasped, her eyes lighting up as she went to touch the fabric.

Eloise smiled, “Do you like it?”

“Very much so.”

“If you like it so much then it’s yours,” She told her.

Amanda looked up at her with amazed eyes, “Really?”

Eloise nodded before calling for the modiste over.

"May I help you, Miss?”

“Yes,” Eloise began as she pulled the dress off the rack. “Could we please have this dress fitted to her size?”

“Of course, my lady,” The modiste nodded her head. “Right this way,” She said, motioning to the tailoring and fitting booth.

Eloise took the little girl’s hand and walked with her.

Amanda couldn’t contain the gleeful grin as she looked up at Eloise. The modiste instructed Amanda to station herself on the stand while she went to retrieve the dress fabric and equipment she needed to take measurements.

“I confess, I am not very keen on dress shopping,” Eloise whispered to the girl.

“Why?”

Eloise shrugged, “It just never appealed to me,”

“Well, I used to love going to the modiste with mother,” The girl spoke. “She loved visiting the modiste. It made her happy and so it made me happy. I haven’t been to one in years. Father sends one of the maids to get new dresses for me.”

Eloise frowned.

That explains why her dresses were a few inches than they should be. The measurements for her were wrong    and outdated. They clearly did not consider that Amanda was a growing child and she was not the same height she was a year ago; not even the same months ago.

The modiste returned to the room.

“Could you please commission three dresses for the young lady,” Eloise smiled, winking at Amanda.

“Of course, ma’am,”

“Are you not here for a dress as well?” Amanda asked innocently.

Eloise shook her off, “Do not concern yourself with me. I will procure a new one some other time,”

“Thank you,” Amanda spoke so sweetly.

Amanda was incredibly well-mannered for a child who was prone to doing pranks with her brother.

“You’re welcome,”

“It is so lovely to see a loving mother and a daughter shopping together,” The modiste mentioned.

Oh! No!

Eloise shuddered at the mere mention of her being a mother. Mother and Eloise should never be in the same sentence, she thought to herself.

Motherhood was the last thing she ever wanted to achieve in life.

“Oh—No, I am not…” She trailed off when she glanced over at Amanda.

She did not wish to make the girl feel as if she was unwanted so she refrained from correcting the modiste.

Once they were done at the modiste, they made their journey back to the house in the carriage.

“What are you reading?”

Eloise looked up, “A book on women’s rights,”

“Women’s rights?”

“Yes,”

“What are women’s rights?”

Eloise frowned.

She found it so disheartening and maddening; borderline exasperating that young girls today were never taught of the rights of women. Girls today were simply taught how to display proper etiquette and ladylike manners for the mere purpose of attracting future suitors.

Women were all taught to be pigeonholed into a box that the male-centered and male-dominated society deemed appropriate. They were taught to listen, to shrink back and be quiet.

Women were educated in a variety of subjects that were considered appropriate for their gender and social status. Embroidery. Needlework. Music. Motherhood.

They were never taught to dream too big; to have a vision of a life for themselves outside of becoming a wife and lady of the house or breeding children.

And it all started young.

Children Amanda’s age were impressionable and filled with wonder. Society molds these girls to either contain their imagination or rid of it completely because their destiny was already predetermined.

And that infuriated Eloise.

Young Amanda does not know that she was capable of greater things than what society expects of her.

“I will lend you some of my books so you can read up on the topic yourself,” She told her.

Amanda smiled brightly, “Thank you!” She said before she began to nervously fiddle with her fingers. “Sorry about this morning with the dog…and the water…and the flour,”

“You and your brother certainly are trying your hardest to get me to break,”

“Oliver--We thought it would be funny,” She whispered.

Eloise sighed, “…Maybe to you it was.”

Although, even she could admit she almost had fits of giggles when the children poured flour on her. It was humiliating but…entertaining as well.

“You won’t tell papa, will you?”

“I don’t know,” Eloise answered.

Amanda nervously tapped her foot as she pouted her bottom lip and wore an apprehensive expression.

“Should I?”

Amanda vigorously shook her head, “Please! Do not! I—I do not want papa to be angry! I don’t like it when he is angry.”

Eloise frowned, “Why? What happens when he is angry?” She asked with concern in her voice.

“Nothing! I just…I love him too much and it makes me sad,”

Eloise sighed.

“Well…I will think about it,” She said to her, flashing her a small smirk as she flipped through pages.

Amanda giggled softly, “What time is father coming home tomorrow?”

“He mentioned he would be home before the evening,” She answered.

Amanda nodded, “I miss my papa,”

Eloise turned to her, “I am positive he misses you too,”

“Father is always away for work,” Amanda stated, “And when he is home he likes to play with us but…I want him to be with us all the time!”

Sir Phillip did seem like a present father but with him attending to his lectures at Cambridge for some days in the week, the children appeared to be affected by his absence.

Over the past few days she had been staying with the Cranes, she noticed how attached Amanda was to her father. She clung to him and relied heavily on him for comfort. When he wasn’t around, she was not quite herself.

Eloise was exceedingly observant to such things –admittedly, much to her own detriment.

Granted, Eloise could be reading way too much into it. She only just met the child a four days ago. But she couldn’t help but wonder whether she missed her father because she felt safe with his presence near; perhaps she had a fear of abandonment.

February 9^th, 1822

Romney Hall

The next day, Eloise woke up and got ready for the day. As she sat on the dresser, she took one look on her face and instantly gasped.

On the top part of her lip, she saw the visible markings of ink on her skin to resemble a mustache.

A mustache!

She grumbled!

Oliver!

She grabbed a napkin to begin wiping the ink away but it did not budge. It did not remove. It was as if the ink was now a part of her body.

Her blood suddenly boiled.

“Oliver Crane!” She screamed as she shot up and marched her way out of her room.

A loud childlike cackle filled the air as she watched the boy run down the corridor and down the stairs.

That child was exceptionally primitive!

Eloise decided to chase after him.

“Oliver! You get back here this instant!” She shouted as she speedily descended the steps.

Oliver laughed as he glanced back, “Catch me if you can!” He teased as he stood in front her with his hands out and a mischievous grin on his face.

“Argh!” Eloise groaned as she lunged her hand for him but he quickly swerved out of her reach and slipped underneath her, crisscrossing his way to run straight past her again.

Dreadful child! Eloise would find him eventually.

Eloise stomped her foot, “Amanda!”

“It wasn’t me!” Amanda cried from the top of the balcony, raising her hands in the air.

As Eloise spun around on her heel to chase after Oliver again, she was halted in her tracks when Mr. Carter, Sir Phillip’s well-regarded secretary, stood in front of her.

Mr. Carter sported his own facial hair with a trimmed mustache although it was a real one.

How perfect!

Now he will think she is mocking him.

Her wrathful disposition was now replaced with a chastened expression as she adjusted her dress.

“Mr. Carter!” She gasped in a high pitch. “Good morning! I—I did not expect to see you this morning.”

He frowned at her appearance, “Trying a new look, Miss Bridgerton?”

Her cheeks burned a deep scarlet red; shamefaced, “It’s the children—They are just making a funny,”

“Ah!” He replied.

Her embarrassment only intensified.

She was only grateful that he did not press on the subject further. 

“In any case, I stopped by to handle some of the work for Sir Phillip while he is away. He will be home in the late afternoon. But I wished to ask you something. You are the younger sister of the Viscount Bridgerton, correct?”

“Yes, Lord Anthony.”

He nodded, “Lovely gentleman. I met him at the House of Lords,”

She nodded.

“Does he know you’re working for Sir Phillip? I imagine he would have an opinion on his younger, unmarried sister having an occupation. He must surely support your new endeavor?”

“Uh,” She began to sweat nervously. She couldn’t lie but… “He doesn’t particularly care what I do,” She chuckled.

Nor should he!

“He’s already preoccupied with his own household.” She elaborated.

He nodded, “I see,”

She smiled anxiously,

“Nevertheless, I ought to return to my work. Have a lovely day, Miss.” He bowed his head before retreating to the office.

Eloise exhaled a shaky, nervous breath.

When Miles Carter left the room, Eloise hung her head back in exasperation.

“What did I get myself into?” She muttered to herself.

Gunning entered the room, sporting a smirk on his face as he took in her appearance, “Miss Bridgerton. What’s going on? Are you inspired by Mr. Carter for your new look? I didn’t know you grew facial hair—” He teased as he motioned to his top lip.

She glared at him, “Do not utter a single word!” She snarled at him.

He laughed as he watched the disgruntled woman storm away up to her bedchamber.

… …

Later that afternoon, Eloise began writing letters to her friends in the city.

Not to Penelope though – as she was not quite ready to speak to anyone in her family from Mayfair who would surely trace her back to this location – but to her friends in Kensington; Gladys, Naomi and Esmeralda.

They were the only ones who would truly understand why she left.

Admittedly, she was beginning to feel slightly homesick even though she did not particularly regret leaving the city. She wasn’t homesick enough to want to go back though but she did miss her friends.

Whilst she was penning the letters, she heard the sounds of horses and a carriage approaching the house. She looked out the window of her bedroom to see Sir Phillip had returned from his trip; climbing out of the carriage and pulling his hat off his head, revealing his neatly quaffed brown hair.

Sir Phillip entered his home where he was greeted by his children.

“Father!” The twins all squealed with excitement as they bombarded him with warm hugs.

“Hi!” He laughed as he bent down to kiss the top of their heads. “I missed you,”

“We missed you too,”

“Were you good for Nurse Millsby and Miss Bridgerton while I was gone?”

Amanda and Oliver shared a look with one another before chuckling anxiously and running away rather theatrically out of the house and into the yard.

Sir Phillip frowned in confusion, shaking his head as he set his briefcase and luggage onto the ground.

Miss Bridgerton made an appearance as she descended the steps.

His heart leaped for a moment at the mere sight of her.

“Afternoon, Sir Phillip,” She greeted with a bow of the head and a curtsy. “Welcome back,”

Sir Phillip slipped his jacket off his shoulders, “Thank you,”

“I trust that you enjoyed your trip,”

“Thoroughly, yes,” He replied with an amiable smile as he struggled to shake his arm out a sleeve.

“Oh, let me help you,” She sauntered over to assist him.

As her hands touched his arm, Phillip’s eyes immediately hit hers and she returned his gaze as she looked up into his blue eyes; both of them scrutinizing the very scope of each other’s soul for a brief pause of a few seconds.

She realized she’d been staring at him, mesmerized by the planes of his face. Her lips parted with surprise, and she so wanted to look away in those seconds, feeling the need to blush or stammer because she was caught by him looking at her, but still…she couldn’t find herself looking away.

She just stood there, transfixed, breathless, as a strange heat spread across her skin whilst her eyes circled the contours of his chiseled, manly face.

It was only momentary.

But that moment was so intense, it could have lasted for years.

Subsequently, Eloise dropped her gaze down to his arm and wriggled the rest of his jacket sleeve off.

“There we go,” She sighed.

He cleared his throat, “Thank you.” He whispered as he rested the velvet jacket over his free forearm. “How was your first week? Were the children good to you?”

Eloise gulped, “Yes! Very much so!”

“Good,”

“Good,”

And they just stared each other again for what felt like forever.

“Uh…Right! I’ll be in the office!” He stated awkwardly, clumsily motioning to his study before beginning to walk away.

“Right! Of course! Y—You do that…Hehe,” She spoke gracelessly as she twirled her body around cumbersomely to hang her head down in shame.

As Eloise ascended the stairs to return to her bedroom, she had not realized that there were a pair of eyes that observed her awkward exchange with Phillip.

Amanda could not fully comprehend what she had just witnessed between her father and the governess but she knew she did not have a good feeling about it.

… …

Early that evening, Sir Phillip left his office, after his meeting with Miles Carter, and searched for Miss Bridgerton who was seated in the yellow drawing room reading a book.

“Ah!” He called, “Miss Bridgerton! There you are.”

She looked up at him, “How may I help you, Sir Phillip?” She asked as she closed her book.

“I wanted to give you something,” He smiled as he extended his hand out, giving her an envelope. “Your first week’s salary,”

Eloise’s eyes widened as she shot up from her chair, “Oh?”

“I thought it would be better if you were compensated on a week-to-week basis. That way you can choose to do whatever you wish for the weekend,” He spoke.

She took the envelope, “Thank you, Sir Phillip,”

“It is I who should thank you. Mrs. Millsby assured me that your first week went off successfully,”

“Well—"

“She knew you would be a natural at it,” He chuckled. “My children can get a bit rowdy so I am pleased that did not seem to deter you,”

Eloise chuckled nervously.

She glanced down at the envelope in her hands. Her first salary! 

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't elated. 

“Do the apparel bags upstairs belong to you by any chance?”

“Oh—No! They belong to Amanda,” She told him. “I took her along with me to the modiste yesterday after our lessons. I initially planned to get a new dress or two but she was in desperate need of a new dress that fit her well so I bought her three dresses—”

“You did not need to do that,”

Eloise shook him off, “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble at all! She loved it—”

“Please, do not ever do that again.” He spoke to her sternly. “If my children are in need of new clothes, I will see to it that a lady’s maid attends to it. I appreciate your help but it is not needed. It is not your job,”

Eloise was stunned; she had never seen him so...perturbed and ruffled. She had never seen him so offended. It was almost as if he felt affronted by Eloise in that moment; like a scolding father.

She did not like his tone at all.

It was reminiscent of the way men in the ton spoke to women or their wives; to put them in their place, to let them know their station, to ensure that they conform to whatever a man says should be done.

Granted, she probably did overstep. It probably wasn’t her place to buy clothes for his daughter without his official approval or instruction.

But Eloise was too proud to admit that to herself.

She was convinced that he was in the wrong in this instance.

Although, she decided to take his words in graciously. He was her employer at the end of the day.

“My apologies, sir.” She answered, “It will not happen again,”

Sir Phillip nodded, “Very well,” He replied before leaving the room.

February 10^th, 1822

The next morning, Eloise was having breakfast with Mrs. Millsby and Miss Clarisse in the yellow drawing room.

Sir Phillip briefly entered the room as he returned from his greenhouse.

“Good morning,” He greeted the women with a nod.

He but did not acknowledge Eloise’s presence, rather, he just continued straight ahead.

Eloise rolled her eyes as she sipped her drink.

Men were so rude and obnoxiously uptight! She spoke to herself.

“Is something amiss with Sir Phillip? He has been acting strange ever since he returned from his trip to Cambridge,” Eloise finally thought to inquire from the women.

“However do you mean?”

“I mean…Yesterday when I told him I took Amanda to the modiste, he gave me the cut direct for commissioning new dresses for her. I understand that I perhaps should have asked but, he did not need to be so uncouth about it? Is he normally like that?” She muttered.

“I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for his behavior, miss.”

“Like what? Bad manners?” Eloise accused. “The way he spoke to me was just odd. Did I do something to offend him recently? He spoke as if my actions signified that I was high on the instep, when in actuality I was simply just doing the little girl a kindness,”

“And I am sure Sir Phillip appreciates that,” Mrs. Millsby spoke.

Eloise scoffed, “He has a funny way of showing it,”

Mrs. Millsby sighed, “Miss Bridgerton, your perceived slight against you based on his behavior has nothing to do with you. Trust me.” She stated.

She turned to her with a frown, “I—”

“He has a lot weighing him down at the moment. It is just the stress,” The elderly lady spoke so softly and kindly, “It is the first anniversary of Lady Crane’s passing,”

Eloise suddenly felt a sickly and odiously uncomfortable feeling at the pit of her stomach; guilt.

“Oh, I didn’t realize—”

“So, yes, it does not have anything to do with you, dearie.”

Eloise pursed her lips together as she looked away and into the horizon. She felt horrible now.

Greenhouse

Presently, Phillip was in his study, pretending to tend to his clerical work, but in actuality, his mind was elsewhere.

He had a lot on his mind.

And he did not know which problem to tackle and grapple with first.

Was it wise to focus his attention on the staff he lost in recent months?

Was it wise to focus on the growing list of problems and pressures Marina’s father was putting onto him?

Was it wise to focus on the fact that he ought to marry again to protect him from the same legal woes Mr. Thompson was putting him through?

Was it wise to focus on the uncertainty of the outcome of his request for a conservatory at Cambridge that could potentially further his career?

Was it wise to worry about his children who were in desperate need of a mother?

Was it wise to focus on the fact that the anniversary of Marina’s death was fast approaching?

Not to mention he felt regrettable about the way he treated Eloise yesterday. His behavior to her was uncalled for and completely unnecessary.

He wished to apologize to her; she deserved an apology for his behavior but he couldn’t bring himself to do so because that would require him to have an explanation which he was not ready to give.

Especially not to her.

His problems were not her burden.

He groaned.

He knew he would drive himself insane if he stayed another second in this wretched house.

He was beginning to feel claustrophobic –both physically and mentally.

He needed to go somewhere where things made more sense. His sanctuary.

He left his office and made his way out of the house and went straight to his greenhouse where he predicted he would be for hours; maybe even all through the night,

As Eloise laid in bed – finding it difficult to fall asleep after she tossed and turned for close to an hour – she couldn’t help but think about Sir Phillip.

He may have been rude to her; but he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for his behavior. Granted, she did not dispute that insolence was unnecessary, it was an explanation.

Marina was his wife and the mother of his children. She imagined he loved and cared for her deeply. He surely must be reeling from the grief of her loss still to this day.

Instead of thinking he had to apologize for his behavior, she felt compelled to apologize for her own behavior.

She jumped out of her bed and glanced out the window of her room to see a big, bright light coming from the greenhouse.

Was Sir Phillip still up?

As Eloise made her way downstairs, she grabbed a candlestick and lit it up in a lantern before slipping out of the house and journeying her way down the hill in the cold night; the wind almost blowing her lantern away.

When she reached the greenhouse, she knocked on the glass door and waited patiently; her arms crossed against her chest as she shivered in the breeze.

Sir Phillip appeared a mere few seconds later and flung the door open.

“Miss Bridgerton?” He whispered.

She took his appearance in; he was dressed in his outdoor dress shirt that was untucked over his brown trousers, rolled up to his elbows and his feet bared.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?”

“I saw the light from the greenhouse shining brightly and I wondered if you perhaps mistakenly left it on or—”

“No, I did not. Erm…Sometimes I work so much I forget where I am and lose track of the time,” He chuckled.

Eloise smiled politely.

“Would you like to come in?”

She did not trust her words; but her body spoke for because she nodded her head.

He stepped aside to let her in.

The second Eloise waltzed into the greenhouse, she was left awestruck by the marvel and wonder of the place. The greenhouse was bursting with foliage. Rows upon rows of different genus of flowers and plants occupied much of the space and the glass walls were covered with various vines and flowers, giving it the feel of stepping into a magical, utopic environment. It was absolutely beautiful.

The mixture of various scents of the greenhouse was positively ambrosial as well.

“This place is amazing,” She gasped as she stood in the center with her arms folded. 

Sir Phillip followed her marveled gaze to observe his greenhouse, “Yes, well, I appreciate the sentiment,”

Eloise chuckled as she began strolling along the rows, her hands running through the lilies and lilacs; and then over to the hydrangeas and lavender; and then over to the thistles and jade plants.

“So this is the source of your flower pressed letters?” She joked.

He smirked sheepishly and shrugged.

Eloise laughed, “Well—I think the orangery at my familial home is much more diverting in my unbiased opinion.” She teased.

He gave her a look.

Eloise suddenly realized he took it seriously, “Oh—No I did not mean to offend you! It was a joke! I jest! I jest!” Her hand touched his hard forearm.

He simpered, “It’s quite alright, Miss Bridgerton.” He laughed.

Eloise blushed as she dropped her hand off his arm and turned around.

She spotted a chaise lounge sleeper chesterfield with a soft blanket sprawled across it.

“You have a sofa in your greenhouse?”

“On the days I have a lot of work to do, I need a place to rest my eyes,” He pointed out.

“Of course but…Why?” She laughed. “Do you not think it’s a bit too much trouble for a greenhouse?”

“This is my sanctuary, Miss Bridgerton. My safe haven.” He spoke as he went to reach for a white rose and gave it a whiff. “I find that I think a lot clearer here and I find some morsel of solace among my plants,”

Eloise smiled, “I quite understand. I find solace in reading myself,”

He stared at her.

“Listen, Sir Phillip…”

“I would like to apologize!” He interrupted her. “For my unfortunate behavior yesterday and earlier today, you did not deserve it. It was completely uncalled for on my part and I do hope you forgive me,”

“There really is no need to apologize, Sir Phillip.” She tried to appease him.

The poor man was beside himself with worry.

He clearly genuinely felt remorseful.

Little did he know, she was here to apologize to him as well. 

He smiled, “Would you like to sit down? I have coffee!”

“You have coffee?”

He nodded as he gestured to the table, “I source my own coffee beans from my evergreen shrub, and I have developed this distiller that grinds the beans and turns them into a warm cup of coffee.”

“You made this contraption on your own?” She asked in amazement as she looked at the device.

“Mhmm, I call it a coffee machine,” He mentioned proudly.

She rolled her eyes, “How original!”

He chuckled, blushing as he poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” She responded as she took a sip. “Mmm. Very good!”

He sighed in relief, “Good! You’re the first person to have ever tasted my coffee,”

“Am I really? Well you should be proud.” She said. “You should show me how you make it one day,”

“Gladly,” He said, “Please come take a seat,” He motioned to the chaise lounge as he ran over to snatch the throw blanket off and rolled it before tossing it onto the opposite free table.

“Pardon the mess,”

Eloise cleared her throat, “I haven’t seen a greenhouse this well-tended to and taken care of since I last visited my sister in The Highlands.”

“Scotland?” Phillip asked as he took a seat beside her on the long chaise lounge.

“Mhmm,”

“Wow!”

“Are you surprised that I have been to Scotland?”

“Yes—Not really but, I always assumed you were confined in London.”

“For a while I did feel as though I was a prisoner in London, but one day I just decided that enough was enough and I explored the country,” She stated. “I haven’t been to many places yet; just within the United Kingdom thus far,”

“Where else have you been?”

 “I’ve been to Wales and I’ve been to Scotland,” Eloise said. “Many years ago, in fact. After my younger sister married the Earl of Killmartin, I traveled with her to their Scotland residence and spent a year there.”

“Your sister is a countess?”

Eloise nodded.

“You have a Duchess and a Countess for sisters?”

“Indeed,” Eloise chuckled. “My mother ought to be proud that she married her daughters' off to the finest titled noblemen of the ton. I wouldn’t be surprised if my youngest sister, Hyacinth marries a duke or an earl one day. Or even a prince! She has always wanted to be a princess!” She giggled.

Sir Phillip smiled as he sat there; listening attentively to her speak about her life.

“…Every day I thank my sisters for being so perfect so that I need not be,”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, my mother has this obsession with her children finding a love match and settling down,” She spoke. “She thinks the peak of happiness is matrimony and bearing children; the humdrum life of wedded bliss and she wishes all her children to experience the same type of love her and my dear papa had,”

“And you do not wish it for yourself?”

Eloise sighed, “It is not to say I do not believe in love, I just…I do not believe it to be in the cards for me and I am content with that fact. I am happy being alone. I am most satisfied being unmarried. Unbound to a man for the rest of my life. My sisters can go on to bear grandchildren for my mother while I am forever designated to being the fun, single aunt,” She joked.

He laughed slightly as he adjusted in his seat so his full body was facing her as he listened to her speak.

“While my sisters seem content with the idea of marriage, I always felt like I was destined for bigger and greater things. I want to change the world. See the world. Live in the world. With no restrictions or expectations. No boundaries.” She expressed.

Sir Phillip flashed an amused facial expression as he leaned his head against the palm of his hand as his elbow rested on the head of the chaise lounge; just taking in everything she said as she spoke so patiently about her wants and dreams.

“I know I sound harebrained and fanciful,”

He shook his head, “No! No! I love the passion. It is refreshing. Keep going,”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes but continued.

“Merriment does grow tiring over time and I just feel that marriage as an institution will never lead to constant happiness for anyone; especially a woman in society,” She said. “The thought of having to give up so much of ourselves to please our husbands puts me off from the whole thing entirely. I still want to have my own autonomy, my own freedom, and my own ability to choose…” she trailed off suddenly.

She realized she sounded radical.

But it did not seem as though Sir Phillip was fazed.

“I suppose I do not see myself living a life that my mother desires for me,”

“Do you think your mind could potentially change when it comes to marriage?” He asked, crushing his knuckles as he watched her; waiting for her to continue.

Eloise exhaled as she thought for a brief moment, “I don’t know. I don’t see it changing soon though, but then again, I never saw myself as a governess,”

Sir Phillip’s eyes twinkled; his eyes crinkling as he smiled. That was one thing she noticed most about him. Whenever he smiled, he smiled with his whole face and his eyes crinkled every time.

It was decidedly sweet to witness.

“Why do you not want children?”

“The simple answer is: I don’t see myself as particularly maternal if I am being honest,” She answered truthfully. “The complicated answer has a lot more layers to it. There are so many factors into why I do not see children in my future that I cannot pinpoint in specifics what the main reason is,”

“Do you think a part of the reason you feel that way is because of fear? Fear of the unknown?”

Eloise glowered at him as her lips parted; in more of a flabbergasted type of scowl because she had not expected him to follow it up with a question that would require her to unpack some underlying trauma she herself was not ready to acknowledge.

“I don’t know,” She answered. “What about you? Did you always see yourself as a husband and father? Was it your lifelong dream?”

“It was sort of expected of me,” He said. “It felt like the necessary thing to do. The natural progression as it were,”

Eloise frowned, “Well, yes but surely you had to have a desire to wed and produce children? You were born the second child so bearing an heir was not a duty for you.”

He didn’t answer.

“I suppose it worked for the best. You married someone you love and had children,”

He sighed, “My marriage to Marina was not a love match,”

Eloise’s lips parted in surprise, “It was not?”

He shook his head, “No, Marina and I did not even get along with one another,”

“Oh,”

“From the moment we met, Marina and I did not particularly warm up to each other. There was no ill-will for each other though –at least not from my side. We simply were two very different individuals with vastly different personalities and philosophies of life,”

Eloise was confused, “If you did not marry for love and you didn’t get along then why did you marry her?”

“It seemed like the right thing to do?”

“Why?” She demanded. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but, I want to understand. You could’ve had your own pool of women to choose from? Amiable women who you could enjoy spending your life with? Or perhaps not be completely miserable with?”

He looked at her; blinking, “You don’t know…”

“I don’t know what?”

He sighed, “The reason Marina and I were not a love match was because she belonged to another man,” He admitted. “Marina was betrothed to George, my brother.”

“Your older brother?”

“Marina was his fiancée,” he said.

Her breath rushed over her lips, and she shifted her eyes to him, setting the coffee cup onto the counter. “I didn’t know,”

“Nor would you, it is not public knowledge,” He said. ‘

“You married your brother’s fiancée? Why?” She questioned. “The only explanation that makes sense would be if she conceived…” She trailed off as she finally connected the dots.

The twins were not his!

Sir Phillip was not the biological father of the children!

She gasped, “Oh my god!”

He glanced down at his bare feet as he allowed her the space to fully react.

“The children aren’t yours; they’re your brothers,” She confirmed. “And that is why you married Miss Thompson!”

“It was the right thing to do,” he reiterated, “As the new baronet by default, I had to ensure that the future line of the baronetcy was safe and as a brother, I had to ensure that George’s honor was protected, that his family was protected and supported. It was my obligation to realize my brother’s late wishes and give his family a place in our family line,”

Eloise could not believe it.

She wondered why Penelope had neglected to mention this fact in their conversations with one another when the whole scandal with Marina unfolded.

Perhaps, she was protecting her as well?

“My brother had always been the more impulsive one of the two of us; he frequently did things without thought and often times, his misguided errors got the best of him and haunted him for years, so I suppose I was not entirely surprised that he took liberties of Marina’s virtue…” He cleared his throat. 

Eloise looked away.

“He was blinded by love, I thought at the time but…He genuinely cared for Marina and he wished to have a family one day with her.” He explained. “And marrying Marina…I was merely doing my duty,”

Eloise sighed as she pressed her lips together in a thin line, “So, you chose to be miserable?”

“I did not have any other choice,”

And then it hit her.

Men in society were all groomed to uphold societal expectations. They were all pressured to live life a certain way.

Duty was required of men to be put first above all else. Above all passion. Above all dreams. Above all love. Above all happiness.

Just as women were primed to uphold societal expectations. Above all passion. Above all dreams. Above all love. Above all happiness.

And men and women were all the more miserable for it.

“To answer your question: No, marriage and children was not something I aspired to have in my life. I shared a similar view to yours. Changing the world in whatever small way I can,” He stated.

“You can still do that you know? You’re a man in society! You don’t have any limits.”

He laughed, “It is not that easy for men too, I assure you.”

“What about what you want in life?”

 “Does it matter what I wanted?”

“Yes! Of course it does!”

“I am a father,” He answered. “That’s my first priority. That takes precedence over anything.”

Eloise nodded her head; deciding to choose to drop the subject.

They both had different ideas of their lives because they were both in different stages of their life.

Sir Phillip was a man of duty and honor.

Eloise was a woman of freedom and choice.

“The children must miss her,” Eloise said, needing to say something, anything that would restart the conversation and restore her composure.

For a brief pause, Phillip did not say anything.

And then finally he spoke: “Yes, they miss her terribly. Nary has a day gone by where they do not mention her in some way,”

“I know the feeling all too well,” She said, “My father died when I was their age as well,”

He nodded, “Yes, you did mention in your letters. Edmund was his name, was it?”

She nodded, “It’s not something I talk about often. It was a long time ago. I almost start to forget his face though which is terrible because I genuinely did love him. He was my everything,”

“Did it take you a long time to get over it?”

“I’m not certain it is something you truly get over,” she said. “Completely, that is. But no, I do not always think of him. Which is why it’s become hard to remember his face on occasion.”

“I’m sorry,”

She smiled, shrugging, “I think it was more difficult for my older brothers,” she said. “Anthony was already a young man when it happened and he had to watch it all. He was there when my dad died.”

“How did he die?”

“He was stung by a bee,” She expressed. He widened his eyes. “I know. And my brother had a difficult time grappling with it. They were very close. And my mother…She was devastated.” She looked over to him, “My parents had a love like no other,”

“Eight children losing a father so young…” He said.

“You remembered I had eight siblings?”

“Well…You have seven siblings. Surely you cannot count yourself as your own sibling, Miss Bridgerton?” He teased.

Eloise rolled her eyes, biting her lip as she playfully shoved him on the shoulder – causing an eruption of laughs to escape his lips.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Was your parents’ marriage a love match?”

His demeanor and countenance suddenly shifted; he increasingly became uncomfortable.

“No,”

“You don’t have to get into it—”

“I truly don’t,” He answered bluntly.

At least he was honest.

“Not right now,” He told her.

“That is okay,” She said to him, “It’s really none of my business anyway,”

He did not respond to her.

Eloise just continued to look at him though.

In the candlelight, Sir Phillip was somehow more handsome, perhaps dangerously so; she was almost certain he was a heartbreaker before marriage. The rugged planes of his face seemed to angle and shadow in the flickering light, lending him a more chiseled looked, almost like the statues she visited at the British Museum.

Women must have thrown themselves at him when he was younger; before marriage.

This brought her to wonder then why he had not remarried yet in the year since Marina died; especially now with the revelation that their marriage was not a love match but rather an arrangement; a marriage of convenience.

“Would you ever remarry?”

He thought, “I—I don’t know yet,”

“Well, advice from a singleton, it is not so bad for us,” She joked.

He laughed.

“Only if you have a purpose though,” she said, “Everyone in my life seemed to be falling in love whilst for me, I felt as though I was falling behind. Never moving forward.”

“Well, look at you now! A governess,”

She covered her face in her hands.

He laughed before glancing out the window, staring at the night sky, the stars shining ever brightly and the moon at its peak. He then glanced back down at his watch.

“Goodness! Look at the time,” He stated, showing her the watch. Her eyes bulged. “We should probably head back inside before the sun rises,”

“Perhaps we should,”

They both smiled warmly to each other as they stood up from their chaise lounge chesterfield.

“Don’t forget your coffee,” Phillip said as he went to reach for Eloise’s coffee from across her.

During this maneuver, his hand lightly grazed the tips of her dangling fingers and the familiar spark of energy radiated off their bodies and they both quietly gasped as their eyes locked; their faces suddenly mere inches away from each other.

Phillip found his eyes wandering down to her lips; her soft, supple, round lips.

He did not know their faces were inching closer until the sound of the owl hooting in the distance interrupted them; essentially breaking the unspoken moment.

Eloise gasped.

“Let’s go inside,” Phillip announced.

She just nodded her head and they both left the greenhouse.

Chapter Text

Summer after high school when we first met
We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead
And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos
Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof
Talk about our future like we had a clue
Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you

In another life
I would be your girl
We keep all our promises
Be us against the world

In another life
I would make you stay
So I don't have to say
You were the one that got away
The one that got away