pairing: viscount!jamesbucky barnes x lady stark!reader
series summary: regency/bridgerton au. being the younger sibling afforded lady stark the luxury to disregard the marriage market entirely. relinquished from the pressure to marry well, you still find yourself in London for the social season to reconnect with old friends. unfortunately, that also meant that you'd likely have to exchange pleasantries with a scoundrel of a man, viscount james buchanan barnes.
series warnings/tags: enemies-to-lovers. sloooow burn. angst. regency era social norms. smut (18+, mdni) [other tags tbd].
author's note: the following post is for world building and keeping up with the ton's most talked about.
: ̗̀➛ 🗒 series masterlist 🗒 || 📕 main masterlist 📕 || 💌 send requests 💌
୨୧ Lady Stark
The younger sister to Duke Anthony Stark. Early to mid-twenties. Absent from the social season for four years. Content spinster with secure status. Not particularly interested in marrying due to the lack of suitable prospects. Sharp, intelligent, and practical.
୨୧ Viscount James Buchanan Barnes
Recently assumed the role of Viscount. Late twenties. Perfectly content with his life as a bachelor, though forced to marry out of duty. Stubborn, ambitious, and self-confident.
୨୧ Earl Samuel Thomas Wilson & Duke Steven Grant Rogers
Noblemen. Late twenties. Best friends of Viscount Barnes. The two are much more kind and well-mannered than their friend. Earl Wilson, though a stable man, has a heart for adventure and sailing. He has found that he is quite compatible with Lady Monica Rambeau. Duke Rogers is a proper gentleman; an artist with his eyes set on Miss Margaret Carter.
୨୧ Miss Margaret Elizabeth Carter & Miss Natasha Alianovna Romanoff
Young debutantes who debuted six seasons ago. Early to mid-twenties. Lady Stark's dynamic best friends. Miss Carter is a smart, hopeless romantic with a natural talent for music. Miss Romanoff is fiesty, outspoken bookworm who detests the marriage market, but is looking for a stable and secure match. Two of many young women adopted by Lady Hill.
୨୧ Lady Maria Christina Hill
Dowager Countess of Shield. Late forties. Extremely generous matriarch who adopts orphaned young ladies. Highly revered and deemed the "Matron of Festivities" due to her lively and successful social gatherings. Like many matrons, has the propensity to meddle and engage in matchmaking.
୨୧ Miss Yelena Belova & Miss Rebecca Barnes
Younger ladies of noble families. Late teens. Have yet to debut. Opinionated and outspoken. Miss Yelena Belova is one of many girls by adopted by Lady Hill. Miss Rebecca Barnes (faceclaim: katie holmes) is the younger sister of Viscount Barnes.
୨୧ Lady Valentina Alegra de Fontaine & Miss Melissa Joan Gold
Dowager Baronness. The second wife of the late Baron of Oxe. Early fifties. A persistent social climber who is set on dethroning Lady Hill as the "Matron of Festivities" and intent on finding the late Baron's newly debuted daughter, Miss Mel Gold, an advantageous match. Late teens to early twenties.
୨୧ Prince Pietro Django Maximoff & Princess Wanda Django Maximoff
Heirs to the Eastern European nation of Sokovia, a small and formidable country. Mid-twenties. Twins who are incredibly close and shockingly blunt. Committed to pursing what and who they want.
୨୧ Prince Thor Odinson & Prince Loki Laufeyson
Heir and spare of Asgard, a highly revered kingdom in Scandinavia. Early thirties. Two energetic, rowdy, and thrill-seeking brothers who frequently attend Britain's social season for parties more than socializing. Confident and flirtatious royals.
୨୧ Prince T'Challa, Dame Okoye, & Dame Nakia
Heir to the throne of Wakanda, a self-sufficient and solitary nation in Africa. Stoic, strong, and honourable. Accompanied by two of his most trusted advisors and knights, the fiercely protective and perceptive Dame Okoye and Dame Nakia. Late twenties/early thirties.
dividers by @/bronzewasp (gold frame) & @/cursed-carmine (pink bow)
pairing: viscount!jamesbucky barnes x lady stark!reader
series summary: regency/bridgerton au. being the younger sibling afforded lady stark the luxury to disregard the marriage market entirely. relinquished from the pressure to marry well, you still find yourself in London for the social season to reconnect with old friends. unfortunately, that also meant that you'd likely have to exchange pleasantries with a scoundrel of a man, viscount james buchanan barnes.
series warnings/tags: enemies-to-lovers. sloooow burn. angst. regency era social norms. smut (18+, mdni) [other tags tbd].
author's note: the following post is for world building and keeping up with the ton's most talked about.
: ̗̀➛ 🗒 series masterlist 🗒 || 📕 main masterlist 📕 || 💌 send requests 💌
୨୧ Lady Stark
The younger sister to Duke Anthony Stark. Early to mid-twenties. Absent from the social season for four years. Content spinster with secure status. Not particularly interested in marrying due to the lack of suitable prospects. Sharp, intelligent, and practical.
୨୧ Viscount James Buchanan Barnes
Recently assumed the role of Viscount. Late twenties. Perfectly content with his life as a bachelor, though forced to marry out of duty. Stubborn, ambitious, and self-confident.
୨୧ Earl Samuel Thomas Wilson & Duke Steven Grant Rogers
Noblemen. Late twenties. Best friends of Viscount Barnes. The two are much more kind and well-mannered than their friend. Earl Wilson, though a stable man, has a heart for adventure and sailing. He has found that he is quite compatible with Lady Monica Rambeau. Duke Rogers is a proper gentleman; an artist with his eyes set on Miss Margaret Carter.
୨୧ Miss Margaret Elizabeth Carter & Miss Natasha Alianovna Romanoff
Young debutantes who debuted six seasons ago. Early to mid-twenties. Lady Stark's dynamic best friends. Miss Carter is a smart, hopeless romantic with a natural talent for music. Miss Romanoff is fiesty, outspoken bookworm who detests the marriage market, but is looking for a stable and secure match. Two of many young women adopted by Lady Hill.
୨୧ Lady Maria Christina Hill
Dowager Countess of Shield. Late forties. Extremely generous matriarch who adopts orphaned young ladies. Highly revered and deemed the "Matron of Festivities" due to her lively and successful social gatherings. Like many matrons, has the propensity to meddle and engage in matchmaking.
୨୧ Miss Yelena Belova & Miss Rebecca Barnes
Younger ladies of noble families. Late teens. Have yet to debut. Opinionated and outspoken. Miss Yelena Belova is one of many girls by adopted by Lady Hill. Miss Rebecca Barnes (faceclaim: katie holmes) is the younger sister of Viscount Barnes.
୨୧ Lady Valentina Alegra de Fontaine & Miss Melissa Joan Gold
Dowager Baronness. The second wife of the late Baron of Oxe. Early fifties. A persistent social climber who is set on dethroning Lady Hill as the "Matron of Festivities" and intent on finding the late Baron's newly debuted daughter, Miss Mel Gold, an advantageous match. Late teens to early twenties.
୨୧ Prince Pietro Django Maximoff & Princess Wanda Django Maximoff
Heirs to the Eastern European nation of Sokovia, a small and formidable country. Mid-twenties. Twins who are incredibly close and shockingly blunt. Committed to pursing what and who they want.
୨୧ Prince Thor Odinson & Prince Loki Laufeyson
Heir and spare of Asgard, a highly revered kingdom in Scandinavia. Early thirties. Two energetic, rowdy, and thrill-seeking brothers who frequently attend Britain's social season for parties more than socializing. Confident and flirtatious royals.
୨୧ Prince T'Challa, Dame Okoye, & Dame Nakia
Heir to the throne of Wakanda, a self-sufficient and solitary nation in Africa. Stoic, strong, and honourable. Accompanied by two of his most trusted advisors and knights, the fiercely protective and perceptive Dame Okoye and Dame Nakia. Late twenties/early thirties.
dividers by @/bronzewasp (gold frame) & @/cursed-carmine (pink bow)
hey everyone, i'm still here and dedicated to writing i loathe (love) you. just know that every night, i have working out dialogue and plot details as i fell asleep 😭 anyway, i've been writing all day and have made so much progress (>4k words and approx 40-60% done). i'm pretty confident you will have an update by next week!!!
thank you for all your support. and thank you thank you for your patience 💓
in the meantime:
: ̗̀➛ want to read/re-read the series? click here!
: ̗̀➛ want to be added to the taglist? ask me!
i love your writings! please update viscount!bucky (not pressuring pls dont ban me :)
hehehe i'm glad you're enjoying the series, love! thank you for all your support. doing my best to write the best possible update in a timely manner xoxo
I'm in the middle of writing the newest chapter. In the meantime, I thought I'd share a working list of resources I've been constantly consulting in the writing and world building of "I loathe (love) you". This is for all the nerds and writers.
info on regency era society
titles and forms of address
role of viscounts
role of the mistress of the manor
social season wikipedia page
rules of courtship
regency era lingo
regency glossary
regency cant and expressions
writing like Lady Whistledown
quotes from Lady Whistledown in Netflix's Bridgerton: one two
devils in the details
regency era furniture: furniture style coach
regency era fashion: one two
regency interiors: house plan drawing rooms ballrooms bedrooms
writing tips
words to use instead of "said": one
writing smut: one two three four
emotion thesaurus
school of plot writing guide
- how to write slow burn romance
- how to write rivals to lovers
- how to describe physical appearance
- how to write natural sounding dialogue
- how to hint at romance in writing
- hacks to write settings that feel real
- good traits gone bad || bad traits gone good
- writing a ballroom scene
building an aesthetic
photos from pinterest (search terms include "regency aesthetic" and "bridgerton aesthetic"--it also helps to search specific bridgerton characters and "aesthetic", ex. "anthony bridgerton aesthetic")
dividers: gold frame (@/bronzewasp) pink bow (@/cursed-carmine )
SITTING MY MODERATE SIZED BOOTY DOWN TODAY AND REWORKING MY ENTIRE DRAFT FOR THIS CHAPTER!!! you all have been so kind and so patient. thank you!!!! I'M WRITING MY WAY OUT OF THIS WRITER'S BLOCK DAMMIT! you guys deserve a fire new update of the story.
P.S. if you can keep me company with any guesses/head-canons you have about i loathe (love) you, i will be so grateful. ok back to my draft, ttyl
ok overall ironheart thoughts! (good and bad) (lots of spoilers)
NATALIE is sooooo so fun and charming i love her. i really appreciate the concept of her character of like, she was born out of riri's lasting guilt and grief over her best friend and she feels so so real it's both comforting and terrifying to her. really expanded on the angst potential from her concept in the comics. i really like how we see riri first try to push her away only to start treating her like the real natalie anyway cuz she misses her so much. lyric ross's performance is prob my favorite in the whole show, her and dominique thorne have sm chemistry, and the sheer amount of life she gives NATALIE just makes it more heartbreaking to watch
riri really is the greatest example of "you all love a white male character for [x] traits but the second they show up in a female character or god forbid a woc you act like she's the devil incarnate". she's the smartest person in the room and knows it, she's not great with people, she's neurodivergent coded, she has a tendency to try to handle everything herself rather than asking for help. these are all traits tony had as well n the show was very intentional about that. it makes me sad that ppl are hating on her for being grounded and realistic and flawed in ways tony was too
the biggest difference between riri and tony is that riri has a massive chip on her shoulder bc she didn't grow up ultra wealthy like tony and everyone else big in the tech industry. and i think everybody whining about this on tony's behalf is so weak and won't survive the winter. if tony wasn't born into wealth and privilege he'd be a lot like riri - worrying about money, scrapping for parts, needing to prove himself to the world, etc. it doesn't mean he wouldn't be a genius or a hero or be able to build his suits/the arc reactor, but mecha suits made out of gold titanium alloy can't be cheap! and like, part of iron man's appeal to begin w is the fantasy of the billionaire that actually has a bit of a conscience and gives a fuck abt helping people. to the rest of the world and how he's impacted it, he couldn't have accomplished what he did without his privilege. and that's a perfectly rational thing to acknowledge
Also far from home having him build a fucking. killer drone satellite to give to peter is far more character assassination than anything in ironheart. but like the ppl complaining now didn't complain back then. so what the fuck ever
the bar is truly beneath the floor for disney+ shows but this show doesn't look like gray concrete! you can see things during the nighttime scenes! there are bright colors! there's interesting lighting! fight scenes that make use of the location! oh my god it's a miracle. chicago feels so grounded and tangible and real it has its own character in a way and the show gets a lot out of that
in terms of mcu supporting casts i think the show does a great job of making them likable and interesting. slug and clown especially were really great and i loved them. honestly i could watch a whole show about anthony ramos and his criminal polycule
i cannot help but feel the show used to have far more teeth in its political commentary but it couldn't commit all the way bc of marvel/disney executives or something. the condemnation of capitalism is definitely present in the subtext but it could go even further i think
i don't MIND zeke becoming evil at all but the way they executed felt a bit too unrealistic. not in the sense he could never be evil but because i think for someone who has spent so so long trying not to be his father his slip into evil wouldn't be something he acknowledges as such. i think he would still being denying being like obadiah and he would not be nearly that self aware. "i'm NOT like my father" as he tears up riri's suit and raves about power would hit a lot harder than him out loud acknowledging he's following in obadiah's footsteps. maybe he realizes it just as he's about to kill riri and has a meltdown abt it and that's how she can escape. i love alden ehrenreich's portrayal though, he did such a good job, i just think he could've Really chewed on "zeke fervently denying he's anything like his supervillain dad while becoming more and more like him"
i wish they committed to centering riri's guilt over killing john - you can still have NATALIE try to convince her that it wasn't her fault and she was acting out of desperation/in the moment self preservation, which is true, but a lot of tony's character dealt with him having (or at least feeling like he has) the blood of so many people on his hands. i think the most interesting thread ep4 brought up that was sadly resolved immediately was riri asking xavier whether she was a good person. bc we know tony believed he wasn't for like, most of if not all the time he was a superhero. having that be a weight on her conscience would connect her to tony in a really substantial and interesting way. it also gives weight to her connection w zeke if we see her doubting herself and thinking "he called me a selfish kid that doesn't care how many people she hurts, what if he's right"
i mentioned this in a previous post but episodes 4 and 5 are kind of slow and the scripts don't feel as punchy as 1-3 and 6, maybe it could've done better without the standard 6 episode miniseries format
riri using magic in her suit was something i was initially skeptical about but i REALLY like how it was executed. it wasn't her cracking magic using tech, it's never been her area of expertise and the show understands that. instead her final suit was a labor of love from others helping her. if she never accepted zelma's help she wouldn't have been able to access the magic able to defeat parker. i really like that!!
probably my biggest gripe with the show is that riri doesn't get the chance to grow into her superheroism. we have SO much setup paralleling parker and riri and how they mirror each other. we have SO much exploring riri realizing that only relying on her own judgment and intelligence will only make her miserable and also get her killed. we see her learning to depend on those around her, her community, to deal with everything she's struggling with. to have her just follow in parker's footsteps, to have her shoulder everything again + make that deal with mephisto to bring natalie back, just feels narratively unsatisfying considering where everything in the show was leading towards. maybe that was part of the point, that riri is more of an anti-hero type character, but idk the show as a whole doesn't feel like a complete narrative without her having a real hero arc (again harkening back to the riri killing john point. let her grow past this! let this be her turning point! i wish we got to see scenes of her saving people...i wish so bad.....)
my overall verdict . show is good, feels v original and confident in its identity, and i had a good time generally. it is def not perfect i have some elaborate gripes but if people are out here saying that it's bad or the worst mcu project ever they are blatantly lying. 7/10 idk if i'd recommend this to people burnt out on marvel but if you're a riri enjoyer give it a go and i think you'll have fun
so i found out the guy who they cast as mephisto, sacha baron cohen, is islamophobic and a zionist n has sexual harassment allegations against him. very disappointing but not unexpected from marvel since this has been an established pattern of a behavior. would not recommend supporting the show/watching it thru legal means
i just finished ironheart the other day and man...ALL of this! some things i wanted to add:
While I love love loved Natalie/NATALIE as a character, I hated the concept of it and the position that the show wanted us to arrive at. I completely understand Riri being in constant grief over the tragic and violent loss of her best friend. I understand that it was an accident that her AI took on the form of her deceased best friend because she programmed the software based on her brain. But implications of the show saying that using the imagery of a dead person is okay?????????? It rubs me the wrong way that they made Natalie's brother, who is rightfully upset after finding out that Riri has created and is keeping an AI version of his dead sister, later say something along the lines of "I don't like it, but I'm trying to understand". HELLO?????? Does that not rub anyone else the wrong way??
Tiny detail, but it gave me the ick: In the first episode, Riri is thinking about what to do after getting kicked out of MIT. There is a throwaway line about going to Dubai because it's a rich, technologically advanced place. Like really? It seems like such poor taste to mention the UAE, who is enjoying prosperity because they are literally committing genocide in Sudan. But I guess what else should I have expected from Disney and Marvel?
Completely agree about the disappointment in casting ultra Islamophobic & Zionist, Sasha Baron Cohen, as Mephisto--who may play quite a prominent role as a multi-franchise MCU villain. Just an incredibly gross human being.
Overall, I do like Riri as a character. She's resourceful, smart, and tenacious. I like aspects of the story; mainly about grief and legacy. I like the concept of fighting with science AND magic. But there are parts of the storytelling that take me out of the story and detach all together.
pairing: viscount!james bucky barnes x lady stark!reader
series status: in progress 🔄 || last update: 11/29/2025
summary: regency/bridgerton au. being the younger sibling afforded lady stark the luxury to disregard the marriage market entirely. relinquished from the pressure to marry well, you still find yourself in London for the social season to reconnect with old friends. unfortunately, that also meant that you'd likely have to exchange pleasantries with a scoundrel of a man, viscount james buchanan barnes.
word count: 9.6k & counting
warnings/tags: enemies-to-lovers. sloooow burn. angst. regency era social norms. smut (18+, mdni) [other tags tbd]
: ̗̀➛ 📕 main masterlist 📕 || 💌 send requests 💌
𐙚 prologue || part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || epilogue
𐙚 character list
𐙚 writing & world building aids [because i can't help but share resources]
author's note: i was inspired to write this after reading @blowingbarnes' bucky fic! both fics are inspired by netflix's bridgerton because honestly...it’s classic text atp. this is my first time writing a "period piece" and smut so be kind!
dividers by @bronzewasp (gold frame) & @cursed-carmine (pink bow)
pairing: viscount!james bucky barnes x lady stark!reader
summary: regency/bridgerton au. being the younger sibling afforded lady stark the luxury to disregard the marriage market entirely. relinquished from the pressure to marry well, you still find yourself in London for the social season to reconnect with old friends. unfortunately, that also meant that you'd likely have to exchange pleasantries with a scoundrel of a man, viscount james buchanan barnes.
word count: 7,292
warnings/tags: enemies-to-lovers. sloooow burn. no use of y/n. angst [Bucky and reader are stubborn little shits lol]. regency era social norms. no smut in this chapter.
: ̗̀➛ 🗒 series masterlist 🗒 || 📕 main masterlist 📕 || 💌 send requests 💌
part one
Viscount James Buchanan Barnes is perfectly content with the life he lives. Being the eldest of the only two children of George and Winifred, he is accustomed to solitude. Other than his lovely, yet irritating sister, Rebecca, and his two best mates, Steve and Sam, James—or Bucky as they fondly call him—is completely satisfied with his own company. He assures that he has grown up to be a good man, worthy of carrying his family’s legacy. He excelled in school, is incredibly well-read, sharply athletic, pragmatic and practical. Bucky has become so well-rounded that two years ago, his father trusted him enough to hand over the title of Viscount, rather than bestowing it upon the young man at the event of his passing.
And while Bucky Barnes is a good man, but he is definitely not perfect. His temper can be as short as a thimble. His attitude, sharp as a sewing needle. But most notable, Bucky is a stubborn man. It stems from the clear vision he has for himself; he knows what he wants for his life and he’ll be damned if he settles for less. Unfortunately for him—the first born, the only son, the heir—the Viscount finds himself in a damned fate. The life he has so carefully and painstakingly crafted is temporary, as his duty to his family looms over. If he could have it his way, he would live as he currently does; assuming the role of Viscount and managing his family and his estate. He would leave the next generation to his sister, even though he knows that she’s not particularly ready for family planning, let alone courtship.
Marriage and children are not milestones he dreams for himself. His work keeps him plenty busy and his leisure keeps him plenty gratified. As any dashing and strong man like him, Bucky has his fair share of women who casually satisfied his needs without the emotional baggage and formalities of courtship. What more can he possibly ask for? Alas, as fate would have it, the Viscount is obligated to wed and produce an heir. And to do that, Bucky has to engage with polite society. He must court someone.
That is why Bucky finds himself at this season’s first ball. Every year, the ton welcomes the new social season with a grand rout hosted by the powerful and revered Countess, Lady Maria Hill. Anyone who is worth something attends—it is practically mandatory. More often than not, the Queen herself makes an appearance at this ball, quietly observing and judging the ton's young singles. And whatever transpires at these soirées, all of Britain eagerly awaits to read all about it in Lady Vraidire’s blasted gossip paper. It is the event that no one would want to miss; except maybe Bucky.
To be fair, he thinks that he could probably enjoy such spectacular events, if only there wasn’t so much fuss throughout the night. And if Bucky has to concede to his duties, he supposes he can try to have some fun in the process. He figures he should at least find a spouse that he can tolerate. A respectable and agreeable woman who can somewhat keep up with his heavy responsibilities and quick whit. He’s almost certain, however, that such a social gathering cannot possibly allow him to find someone like that; not with the hoards of mamas, chaperones, and debutantes pestering him throughout the evening.
The Viscount finds solace in a quiet corner of the ball room, near the servants’ corridor. It wasn’t a bad place to take refuge considering that uniformed men frequently pass by with trays of spirits and hors d'oeuvres. Bucky reaches out, taking a healthy palm’s worth of finger sandwiches in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other.
“I take it that your mission to wed by winter is going swimmingly,” he hears a familiar, friendly laugh; one the Viscount instantly finds relief in, though he'd never be caught admitting it out loud.
“Wilson,” Bucky side-eyes, greeting him with a mouth full of bread and smoked fish. The interaction only makes his friend laugh harder.
“You know, being a Viscount means you are going to have to attend these kinds of things; host them, even—once you find your missus, of course.” Lord Samuel Wilson is a dear friend of Bucky’s. Like many people he holds dear, Sam often gets on his nerves. Most of the time, it’s because he says truths the Viscount does not care to hear.
“I’m starting to think that won’t happen in a million and one years!” Speaking of people who annoy Bucky, Rebecca had observed her big brother throughout the night and is not very impressed. Seeing him sulk in the corner, she decided to trudge over and give him a piece of her mind.
“Blimey, Bec. Remind me to gift you a bell for your birthday,” Bucky begrudges.
Sam watches the siblings bicker, reminded about his relationship with his sister, Sarah, who along with her two sons, have been left in the countryside while he participates in this year's social season. His laugh momentarily disarms the young lady, who curtsies at him before continuing her lecture.
“Mother and Father told me to keep watch, you know. I’m meant to report to them tomorrow,” her chin tilted high and her tone so matter-of-fact. “I’m sure they’ll be quite pleased to know that Viscount Barnes is smitten with Benedictine,” her gaze lowering to the flattened cucumber sandwiches in his hand. “Might they expect some grandchildren by morning? Perhaps twins? Dyspepsia and Crapulous [indigestion and hangover]? I will not be surprised to read all about it from Lady Vraidire.”
“Don’t you have a group of lambs to herd?” Bucky grumbles, eyeing the small group of girls huddled in a circle, giggling as their dear friend berates her brother. Seeing the futility of her rant—especially as her brother continues to snag treats from serving trays—she turns on her heel with a huff, returning to her friends.
Lord Wilson, ever patient and ever kind, still stood beside his friend, waiting with his hands clasped behind him. It’s not like he hasn’t witnessed the two Barnes siblings argue many times over. It was practically a guaranteed event when he visits their residence.
“I see the countryside has not mellowed Miss Barnes.”
“No, but it has made me quite melancholic,” Bucky quips, downing his second glass of champagne. "Is it too much trouble for Lady Hill to provide any brown liquor at these events?"
Sam snickers at the wordplay, affectionately nudging the Viscount’s arm with his elbow. “Seriously though, Buck. How do you plan to marry before the end of this year if you are not even mingling?”
Since taking up the title, Bucky has made an admirable attempt to rise to the occasion. For two years, he's worked alongside his father, who has provided him mentorship and ensured that the transition between them would occur smoothly. Despite this, his father has chosen to withhold certain records and responsibilities from his son until the young man is able to “forge a stable future”. Translated plainly, Bucky will not have access to the full resources and capacities of a Viscount until he is married. So, he’s made it his mission to find a wife by the end of the season.
“Why is everyone so concerned with my love life?”
“Because you practically never stop complaining about your predicament.”
The Viscount has no response to that. He only huffs, resembling the same response his sister had for him earlier. Sam is almost convinced that the action is an inherited instinctual behaviour of the Barnes'.
“Are you even trying?”
“Of course I am, Wilson.”
Sam does not believe him for a second. “Really?”
Bucky nods in response. “In the past hour, I’ve spoken to 13 women at the very least,” as if the statistic will sooth his friend's concerns.
“How many of those women did you have an actual conversation with? And how many dance cards have you signed your name onto?” Sam turns his body to face the Viscount fully, crossing his arms in displeasure as he continues to press his friend. None.
Sensing Bucky's disinterest in continuing this topic, Sam positions himself back beside his friend. They take a few moments to scan the room and enjoy the lovely renditions of the band. At the same time, the two men spot Steve across the ball room, standing on the sidelines and making pleasant conversation with Miss Carter and the rest of Lady Hill's girls. "Shall we join the bloke?" Sam suggests.
“If only to sweep him away,” Bucky murmurs, letting his friend lead the way.
It is quite an overwhelming experience to attend the first ball of the season, especially when you have not attended in quite some time. You are certainly no hermit, being present at all of Tony's dinner parties and business meetings in the countryside. Those events, however, can never compare in scale to the festivities of the season, where it seemed like all of Britain and the world were confined to a single manor. That is why you find yourself on the sidelines with the young women of Shield, listening in on the conversation between your friend and her love interest.
"How was your winter, Your Grace," Peggy sweetly queries.
Duke Rogers, who was leaning in slightly due to the loud ambience and height difference, stands tall and straight before answering. "Quite alright, thank you, Miss Carter. I travelled to Paris to study painting. The artists there have quite a knack for colour mixing and brush work. And how are you? I imagine things at Shield continue to be vibrant."
"Oh yes, Your Grace. Though, I do find peace at the stool of our pianoforte." The Duke's smile brightens at Peggy's words, recalling many previous conversations of Miss Carter and her passion for music. His expression is so gentle, causing Peggy to blush as she continues to share. "I've made quite the progress in learning Mozart's--"
"Rogers!" A cheery, booming voice approaches. It's none other than Lord Wilson, proudly walking towards you all with a brooding dog-of-a-man trailing behind.
The Duke offers Peggy and the girls a silent, apologetic smile before turning to greet his friends. "Wilson! Barnes! They let both of you enter this elegant affair? I'm afraid Lady Hill has made an error in invitations."
The three men share a laugh, which ends quickly and abruptly when a powerful presence with a stern face enters the conversation. "I do not make errors, Your Grace." The group of young singles adjust their posture, giving the highly respected woman a bow or curtsy.
"Lady Hill, allow me to apologize. I only jest," the Duke frantically fawns.
After a beat, the matron cracks a smile. "I know. I merely enjoy giving young men a hard time." she finally laughs, breaking the tension completely. "Perhaps I can forgive you if you ask Miss Carter for a dance or two."
Without another word, the Duke bows at Lady Hill before offering his hand and leading Peggy to the dance floor. You will never be unimpressed with how smooth and strategic the matron is; you marvel at the way she continues to carry herself, vowing to be the kind of woman she is when you get to her age. The interaction inconveniences the two men left with the group, who had just manoeuvred across the large room to catch up with their friend, avoiding rogue dance partners and persistent mamas along the way. Lord Wilson, though disappointed, did not let this emotions show. He is quite a polite man, after all. And perhaps you or Natasha would have entertained the idea of courting him if his eyes were not so lovingly set on the driven and delightful Lady Monica Rambeau. The Viscount, on the other hand, is sporting knitted brows and a slight, down-turned pout. The look makes you glare at him, which he is completely oblivious to. The young men huddle together, engaging in hushed dialogue.
The Dowager Countess then turns to you, grasping your hand and giving it an affectionate squeeze. "It's so lovely to see you again, my dear."
"And you, Lady Hill."
"I hope you do not intend to remain a wallflower all night," she tuts, peering at the empty dance card hanging from your silk-gloved wrist.
"That's perfectly alright, madame. I'm quite content right here," you comfort, your heart beginning to beat faster. Lady Hill has replaced her disapproving brows, now wearing a smirk of mischief and meddle; a look that she so often dons when she, and other matrons like her, is up to something.
"Perhaps…" her eyes are scanning the room, now. Drat. That's how you know you are absolutely done for. "Ah, Viscount Barnes, perhaps you can untangle this lovely young lady from the wall."
The two men turn back to face you both. It is then that you notice your expression equally reflected on the Viscount's face; a wide-eyed shock and discomfort, not dissimilar to an unwilling child whose mother insists that they kiss the cheek of their distant aunt's—one that might as well be a complete stranger.
Bucky glances at Sam, silently pleading for any way to bail him out of the situation. A business dealing. An empty champagne glass. Anything. But the excuse doesn't come. He just stands there with a wide, approving smile. "Damn him," Bucky thinks. Meanwhile, you turn your head, looking at Natasha for help. She gives you a tight smile; one that says that she wouldn't dare contradict to her matriarch's ideas.
The Viscount winces before mustering up what seemed like every ounce of his energy to change his face into as polite of a smile as he can. God, why does he make it seem like the thought of interacting with you is as painful as pulling a tooth? If it was not for his rotten demeanour, you might actually admire the dimple in his cheek and the sparkle in his dazzlingly blue eyes.
"Of course," Bucky dutifully replies before extending his hand. "Lady Stark, may I have this dance?" Much to your dismay, you place your hand atop of his and he leads you to the dance floor. You take note of how big, rough, and warm his hand feels but snuff out any other thoughts about him after that. Satisfied, Lady Hill makes her way around the party to greet other guests. "Behave ladies."
When Bucky leads you to a satisfactory spot on the dance floor, you turn to face each other. His hand is still clasping yours while the other settles entirely too low on your back. You would have paid more attention to the strange beating of your heart, if it were not for the impolite gesture and worry of your image to the rest of the ton. You frown, using your free hand to reach around and swiftly yank his hand up to the middle of your back instead. Bucky hisses at the motion, his body stiffening as your hand settles onto his muscular shoulder. "Have you no decency, my lord?"
"I injured my elbow in an equestrian accident a few years ago," the Viscount grimaces. "My arm hasn't been the same since."
Evaluating the look in his eyes, you find no signs of a lie; just the remnants of a painful memory. "Ah," ignoring the tightness of guilt in your chest. Your eyes seem to wander, everywhere in the glamorous room but back to his. Your eyes find Peggy and the Duke, whose seem like they are in an entirely different world of their own. "Very well then. Place it where it pleases you."
Bucky's hand slides slightly lower down your back, still at a height deemed perfectly acceptable. It is, however, not low enough because the ache in his arm remains. He tries not to complain or push the boundaries further, as he's long since come to the conclusion that high society has inevitable bouts of discomfort for the sake of propriety. If he truly placed his hand where it pleases him—which is on the very inviting curve of your waist—in front of the what seems like the entirety of Britain's high society, he might as well dig his own grave; and perhaps his whole family's since the action would tarnish the good name of Barnes.
The two of you begin to dance, swaying and spinning to the colourful tunes of the band.
"How has your time away from been?" The Viscount begins.
"Fine."
"And you? How have you been?" he continues.
"Fine."
Bucky groans at the cold responses, his chest warming with irritation. Even at his attempts to be civil, you chose to be difficult and distant. He can't help but think it is personal because you actually seem sweet to everyone else. The feeling was endlessly frustrating for the young man.
"Why do you hate me so much? Truly." The Viscount asks.
"Truly? Where shall I even begin," you scoff as you gracefully slide around the pristine, polished floorboards. "Perhaps it was all the vile rumours you spewed about me and my family when my brother and I were freshly orphaned. I was only 11, you know."
Bucky's brows furrow. "That was more than a decade ago and it was all a big misunder--"
"Oh please, Mr. Barnes. I'm not interested in hearing excuses," still not looking him in the eye. You instead, gaze up at the large chandelier—certainly not as an attempt to stop tears from forming. "Time does not heal all wounds. And besides, I don't particularly chose to spend my time on subjects and people that disturb me so."
He studies your face and can see the way your mouth turns down and your lip ever so slightly quivers. Even if you think you're doing a fantastic job of hiding it, he sees the hurt. And if he was a less observant man, he can still hear the way your voice falters. He would have apologized if it were not for her unkind words.
Instead, he is silent, nothing but the pleasant melody of violins, the shuffling of shoes and skirts, and the chatter of guests filling their ears. Effortlessly, the two of you dance without missing a beat—the both of you are quite experienced in galas like this, after all.
"You can be quite mean," Bucky pouts.
The statement causes you to finally look at him in shock. You really can't begin to understand why the Viscount was acting like a boy whose favourite toy had been broken beyond repair. Perhaps it was because you are just a toy to him—another young lady to play and to break. You've observed him to be a nice man outside of his treatment towards you. But you are also not a stranger to the salacious rumours of him and his escapades with women of no status. So no, you utterly refuse to play whatever game he is trying to play and will be damned if you let yourself become a toy for his amusement.
"I detest your attitude."
"And I, yours."
"Good, then we're in agreement."
The string musicians finish with a flourish as Bucky and the rest of the gentlemen dip their dance partner. He takes a second to look at you. There's a light in your eyes that pulls him in like a moth to a flame; a gaze that challenges and provokes. If you weren't so difficult, Bucky might actually admire the way your lashes kiss your cheek when you blink up at him and how the weight and warmth of you feels in his arms.
"Viscount! Viscount Barnes!" the shrill sounds of Lady de Fountaine break the tension. He quickly returns you to a standing position, letting go of your hand and dropping his arms to his sides. You both turn towards the loud lady, who is practically dragging a young woman by the hand.
"Viscount Barnes. May I introduce you to Miss Melissa Joan Gold?" Lady de Fontaine beams with the widest smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. She grabs a hold of the poor girl's arms, pulling her in front to present to the Viscount. "She has just made her debut earlier today."
"Valentina," the girl pleads, only to be quickly shushed by the black-and-white haired woman. "She is quite obedient and perfectly respectable."
You can't help but sympathize for Miss Gold, whose face is as flushed as a ripe tomato. It must be quite mortifying to be freshly debuted and to be chaperoned by an abrasive woman who has just been lambasted in the latest issue of Lady Vraidire.
"Oh, Viscount Barnes, will you please do us both the honour of having her first dance as a debutante be with someone as handsome and well-off as you?" She's imploring entirely too loud, earning the attention of guests within at least a three metre radius. You suspect that she's done so on purpose.
Bucky looks at you one last time before offering his hand to Miss Gold and excusing them both. "T'was a pleasure, Lady Stark."
Lady de Fontaine watches the pair leave, her smile dropping as soon as they are a distance away. "Ah, Lady Stark," she acknowledges to you finally. Out of pure politeness, you offer a curtsy to the older woman. "You've been gone for quite some time."
"I have."
"I suppose you have much to catch up on. Many people to reacquaint." Lady de Fontaine's eyes slowly track you from your ornate golden shoes, to your signature Stark scarlet-coloured gown; to your intricate, jewelled necklace, and your perfectly styled hair. Her lips are pursed with judgment and envy.
"Oh, I'm well-informed," you smile, voice coated in sickly sweetness. "The young women at Shield have brought me up to date." The Dowager Baroness scoffs at the mention of anything and anyone related to Lady Hill, even if she is currently standing under her roof. "And anything they miss is surely included in Lady Vraidire's Society Papers."
Lady de Fontaine looks absolutely scandalized now. Good, serves her right. It takes a certain audacity to act in the way she does, let alone provoking a Stark. "That frivolous paper is down right preposterous," she's practically spitting. "Have you read her latest issue??" Of course you have; you explicitly brought Lady Vraidire up to shake her. "She wrote 'Fontaine.' It's 'de Fountaine'. de Fontaine! Any credible writer would be so diligent to eliminate such catastrophic errors before sending their work to the printing press. Which reminds me, I shall look into the publisher. They'll be hearing from me and their negligent--"
"Lady Stark!" you let out a deep breath, relieved to see Miss Yelena Belova skip toward you, holding hands with her best friend outside of the young ladies of Shield, Miss Rebecca Barnes.
"Well then. I'll leave it to you to..." the older woman pauses, taking in the two young women approaching. "Reconnect." She searches the ballroom, eyes brightening as she locks onto her next target. "Ah, Miss Pym," she calls as she walks away. "Is your father around? I do wish to extend my condolences to him personally." And perhaps convince the recently widowed man to marry Miss Gold or even herself, you think.
The two young ladies step closer to you, ready to gossip. Yelena looks quite proud to have saved you from another aching moment with the Dowager Baroness. She leans in before asking in a hushed tone. “What did that prune want with you?”
Out of pure shock and reflex, you smack the blonde’s arm. “Lena!” The blue-eyed brunette beside her bursts into a fit of melodic laughter. You let yourself smile a little. If you wanted to don the role of a polite woman who welcomes mentorship, you would have scolded the girl and corrected her behaviour. But you did not want to do that at all. You have grown quite fond of Yelena, who like her older sister Natasha, does not care much for pleasantries and propriety. It was refreshing and inspiring, really.
“Alright, it was a little funny,” you concede, Yelena’s face brightening at your validation. “She didn’t want anything from me," you begin. "On second thought, perhaps she wanted my ear. She practically chewed it off.”
This earns another healthy laugh from the two. “She did look quite famished,” Miss Barnes joyfully joins in. “Hungry for attention, I bet!”
“Oh, you girls are trouble,” you giggle, admiring the happiness and vibrancy only the youth are privileged to. You wonder when you’ve lost that spark. It must have been when your parents passed. Or was it when you debuted? It is hard to remember if that light slowly dimmed or if it was snuffed out in one blow.
“You like it,” Yelena beams. And she's right, you do.
The three of you walk back to the outskirts of the ballroom, engaging in people-watching and spirited discussion. Your attention falls back to Viscount Barnes, who is still dancing with Miss Gold. You begin to think that your former dance partner’s shoes must be flat by now, given the amount of times the debutante has clumsily stepped on them. She’s apologized every time and Bucky has been quick to accept them. You can’t help but pity Miss Gold, who is entirely too naive and inexperienced for him. The thought arrives because you sympathize with the girl, whose chaperone seems intent on their partnership. It definitely wasn’t because you feel any type of jealousy or possessiveness. That would be absurd.
Rebecca notices your attention is elsewhere. As astute as she is nosey, she follows the line of your eyesight; straight to her brother. She takes note of the interesting observation, promising to herself that she would follow this developing situation—whatever it may be.
“Anyway, I merely drew a tiny portrait of the sourpuss. I don’t understand why I was punished so harshly," Yelena groans. "Lady Stark, would you be so incredibly kind to lead my lessons instead?”
The sound of your name brings you back into focus. "Pardon, Yelena. My mind was elsewhere."
Rebecca attempts to fill you in. "Lena was just talking about how the Governess--"
"No need to recount the details of my misfortune. Will you please teach me instead?" The blonde desperately pleads. "You Starks are the smartest people I know. Please, please please."
"So long as Lady Hill approves--"
Yelena lunges, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing as tightly as a python. "Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I'm so glad you're back!"
"I can come back here tomorrow morning to start our lessons," you say, hugging her back.
The song concludes and the string musicians return to a resting position. Their melodic tunes are replaced by the brightness of horns, announcing the royal entrance.
"Ladies and gentleman," you hear a man shout from the banister. "Her Majesty, the Queen!" The grand doors at the top of the staircase open and the royal confidently enters the ballroom.
The dance floor is quickly cleared, as all the guests bow curtsy to greet the reigning monarch. Her hair styled so intricately and her gown is large and lavish. Peggy scurries her way back to you, hooking her arm around yours. "Where's Natasha?" she whispers, brows furrowed. You shrug, taking a moment to look around and think; where is Natasha?
Your thoughts are interrupted with the sound of a commanding, prim and proper voice. “Allow me to introduce my special guests at Buckingham Palace,” the Queen starts.
“The princes of Asgard, Prince Thor Odinson and Prince Loki Laufeyson.” A polite round of applause starts as two notably tall men enter the ballroom, the blond wearing an confident smile and the brunette dawning a mischievous grin.
“Prince T’Challa of Wakanda and his advisors.” Alongside applause, a wave of whispers travel the room as a strong, stoic man emerges with two formidable women following closely behind. Though Lady Vraidire did report on their arrival, most of the ton believed that she was surely wrong; for the Prince and his country have made it a point to be as solitary and self-sufficient as possible. It is, in fact, a mystery as to how the country manages with such limited international relations and trade. You can’t help but wonder if you are witnessing an important moment in history.
“And lastly, from Sokovia, Prince Pietro and Princess Wanda Maximoff.” The pair step forward, arms hooked together. They stop at the railing to overlook the guest below.
“Is there a special cream that is exclusive to royal blood?” Yelena whispers. “They are all gorgeous.”
You hum in agreement, just as you lock eyes with the Sokovian Prince from across the room. His face is pleasantly structured and perfectly symmetrical. His eyes stay on you as he cracks a cheeky, boyish grin. Prince Pietro, ever the gentleman, guides is sister down the grand staircase before unhooking his arm and excusing himself. Still, his eyes rarely left yours.
“By God, Lady Stark. His Royal Highness looks absolutely captivated by you,” Peggy is practically jumping for joy beside you.
“And he’s coming this way” Rebecca gasps.
Prince Pietro makes quick work of the distance between you. As he ventured closer, you are able to survey him in greater detail. His effortlessly styled silver, curly locks. His satisfying sculpted brows. His striking blue eyes. He is positively breathtaking.
The royal stops right in front of you, flashing the most dashingly charming smile.
“Your Highness,” you greet, lowering your gaze as you curtsy.
“And who might you be, miss?”
“Lady Stark, Your Highness.” Prince Pietro looks at you, his eyes kind and purposeful.
“Well Lady Stark, will you indulge me with a dance?” he requests, offering his hand.
You take a moment to look at your friends beside you. Peggy and Rebecca are practically vibrating with excitement, their smiles spreading from ear to ear. Yelena’s jaw has dropped, completely frozen in shock.
Silently, you place your hand elegantly on his, looking up at him with warm allure in your eyes.
From a distant corner of the ballroom, Viscount Barnes leans against the wall. Like all the guests in the ballroom, he observes the whole interaction. “Well he certainly enjoys the spotlight,” he scoffs, glaring at the royal. “I’m going out for a smoke,” he says, unbuttoning his jacket and pulling out a pipe from the inside pocket. He makes a swift exit towards the veranda overlooking the Shield gardens. Steve and Sam share a look, equally perplexed and intrigued at their friend’s behaviour. They wordlessly decide not to confront the man, only following him outdoors to continue their conversation.
Indoors, the soirée continues its lively festivities. As the band reconvenes and continues their set list, the Prince leads you to the very centre of the room. Turning to face each other, you curtsy and he bows. You both assume your positions, gently placing one hand in his and the other on the epaulette of his expertly tailored jacket. He confidently claps your hand, his other hand settling at a respectable spot between your shoulder blades. The pair of you begin to dance, stepping in sync with those around you.
You are so taken aback at how smooth and simple such social interactions with the opposite sex can be. “You look as though your mind is running as fast as a horse” the Prince offers a comforting smile.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. This is quite overwhelming of an experience. It is not everyday that a handsome prince asks a lady to dance in such a manner that you did.”
“You think I’m handsome?” he teases, making your cheeks warm.
“I’m afraid it is you who I must ask for forgiveness, Lady Stark.” You furrow your brows, unsure of what the polite gentleman needed to apologize for.
“For my boldness,” he continues. “It is just that when I see something—or someone—I am interested in, I make it a point to purse them immediately. Sokovians; we’re quite determined peoples.”
“And you’re interested? In me?” You can’t begin to wrap your mind around his blunt honesty, which rivals that of Natasha and Yelena. Perhaps this was another quality that Eastern Europeans share.
“You say that as if you don’t know how desirable you are,” the Prince looks at you fondly.
“I mean, I find my looks quite satisfactory but--“
“Well I am glad. I shall like to imagine the future Queen of Sokovia to be astute and honest.” Once again, the Prince's candidness astonishes you. He notices your reaction and apologizes again. "I'm very sorry for being so forthright, Lady Stark. It seems we have found ourselves a cultural difference that we must navigate."
The statement eases you. In fact, it pleases you that he is such an observant and considerate man—a prince, though you could not care any less of his title and status. "It seems we have, Your Highness," regaining your social footing. "And pray tell, what other qualities do you imagine for the future queen."
The two of you continue to dance, much of the ton's desperately curious eyes watching the pair gracefully move about the floorboards. Their gazes burn into the back of your neck, the feeling discomfort heating your belly. Thankfully, the Prince does offer some comfort in his confidence and polite conversation. He details the traits he is looking for in a wife and queen; kind, smart, generous, witty, and outspoken. You think that those attributes may describe you, but still cannot begin to imagine yourself carrying the impossibly heavy responsibilities of a monarch.
The musical piece concludes with a decrescendo and guests around the ballroom offer an applause; though you do not know if it was intended to acknowledge the skill of the strings players or the spectacle of your dance with the Prince of Sokovia.
"True to my word, I shall let you enjoy the rest of the evening, Lady Stark. Thank you for this dance," the Prince gently releases you, bowing before making he way back to his sister, a proud smile on her face.
You straighten from your curtsy, only then realizing how short your breath has been for the past few minutes. You are not offered a moment of respite, though, as the young ladies of Shield—sans Natasha—and Rebecca frantically make their way to you.
"Lady Stark, that was magical," Peggy beams. "You looked like dignified royalty!"
"What did you two talk about? I must know at once!" Yelena demands.
Rebecca studies your expression, noting the quickness in which your chest is rising and falling and the surprised look on your face. "Are you feeling well, Lady Stark?"
"I'm fine," you reply blandly, your eyes dashing around the room trying to make sense of prior fantastical event. "Perhaps some fresh air will do me some good."
"Very well. Let's go," Yelena hooks her arm around you, stepping towards the entrance to the gardens. Your feet remain planted, though, causing her to spring back to you with furrowed brows.
"Forgive me, Lena," you look at her softly. "Might I have some time alone?"
Though disappointed, Yelena gives you a sympathetic smile. "Come on girls, to the refreshments," Peggy says, rounding up the two younger ladies. "And don't be too long, Lady Stark. It is still quite chilly at night."
"That royal seems vain," Viscount Barnes grumbles, taking a puff from his pipe. He does not have a habit of smoking, it was just an excuse to escape the buzzing ballroom. If his friends had not followed him outside, the pipe he had stored in his jacket would have remained unlit.
"You are merely saying that because he's taken fancy to Lady Stark," Sam knowingly smirks.
Bucky's posture straightens at the accusation. "Nonsense!" he counters a bit too quickly, the action earning a laugh out of his friends.
"Buck, it is clear that you are interested in her," Steve gently states, acutely aware of the tight line he is currently walking. "Perhaps you shall try to get to know her properly. You may actually find that your impassioned interactions stem from--"
"I shall not subject myself to such stressful endeavours, Steve," the Viscount shuts down. "I intend on living a long, healthy life, Your Grace."
His two friends only sigh at their dear friend's stubbornness—it is a trait that makes Bucky a fiercely effective Viscount, but quite a frustrating friend at times.
You enter the veranda overlooking the Shield gardens. Since you were young, you've found this place to be particularly calming. Lady Hill, ever the resourceful Countess, had made sure that this land is not just beautifully decorated with ornamental flowers. Sprinkled in with the budding blooms are vegetables and fruit. It is quite a masterfully planned garden, serving as a beautiful escape and an opportunity for the young ladies of Shield to grow their own food. The garden is practically a sanctuary for you. Until, that is, you hear a familiar, grating voice. As the Viscount continues his rant, you duck behind a healthy shrub of hydrangeas.
"Besides, if I am to be shackled to a woman for the rest of my days, the lady in question should be easy to get along with. Quiet. Agreeable. Passion is the last thing I desire," Bucky thinks aloud. His friends only listen with silent disagreement, letting him continue on. "She will be the future mother to my children, so, she should have a pleasing face and an acceptable wit. Must be well-mannered enough to assume the role of Viscountess. The qualities should not be so hard to find and yet all of London's debutantes fall short."
"You will find the right woman," Steve gives his friend a friendly pat on the shoulder before returning back to the indoor festivities.
"Good luck," Sam genuinely says, concerned about his finicky friend. He follows Steve back to the ballroom, leaving Bucky alone. As soon as the french doors close shut, the Viscount smothers the embers of his pipe.
Sensing the end to the conversation, you begin to sneak forward, hoping to make your quiet exit. Alas, your hope is crushed when your foot comes into contact with a garden trowel, which clanks into the metal hand cultivator beside it. You wince at the loud commotion, taking a mental note to scold Yelena for leaving out garden tools when you commence her lessons tomorrow morning.
"Hello? Is someone there?" Bucky calls out before investigating the noise. He is posture is square and tall, but relaxes as soon as he sees you slightly crouched behind the shrub.
"Lady Stark, you have quite a habit of disappearing and reappearing at the most inconvenient of times," the Viscount frowns. "And what it is it that you are doing behind the foliage? Gathering material for the next issue of that blasted gossip paper?"
"Do sharpen up, my lord. How can I possibly be Lady Vraidire when I have been absent for four years?"
Though it raises his blood pressure, Bucky finds conversations—arguments, really—with you quite intellectually stimulating. Your quick remark makes his heart rate pick up because the fact of the matter is, you are completely right. It's a blow to his ego, though, as he has just conceded a point in this mental fencing match. He will not outright admit that your response is convincing, merely changing the topic of conversation instead.
"Well you still have yet to account for your sneaking," he tilts his head. Fleche.
You scoff at his self-righteousness. "I was merely enjoying the crisp, night air."
"And gentlemen's private conversation," he tuts, casting judgment. Advance.
"I would not have listened in if your voice was not so piercing." Riposte.
"Ah, and is this the type of respect you wish to grant all of your potential matches?" Lunge. "I doubt that any man—princes included—will find appeal in that."
Your blood boils at the condescending mention of your dance with Prince Pietro. "You do think quite high of yourself, Your Grace," you begin. Parry. "Besides, there is no potential with you, Viscount Barnes. In addition to your arrogance, your attitude towards women as merely wives and mothers is abhorrent. Surely your mother and sister have taught you to respect ladies. It seems that you are not the most absorbent student. If you should like to find yourself an acceptable woman to wed, perhaps you shall first make yourself into an acceptable man worth marrying." Touché.
"And since you have so thoroughly aggravated me and soured my night, I think it is time for me to leave. Good evening, my lord," you conclude, angrily and hastily making your exit. You decide that you have had enough socializing for one night, exhausted, annoyed, and overwhelmed.
Bucky is left taken aback at your words, feeling a pit in stomach. Again, you are right. In fact, the strong willed women in his life have taught him to be a gentleman and he's extremely grateful for them. He reflects for a moment; perhaps his ambition to fulfill his role as Viscount clouds him.
Dearest gentle reader,
What a night, indeed. The author must commend Lady Hill for another successful social gathering. The highly anticipated first ball of the season was entertaining in more ways than one.
First and foremost, a lady must not make the habit of gloating. However, I did tell you so. The heir and spare of Asgard have appeared last night. We shall definitely see what mischief they shall bring this season. Most surprisingly, though not surprising to me, is that the Prince of Wakanda has, indeed, arrived to Britain. This is quite the feat considering the long journey from the very reclusive African nation. The Queen, herself, presented them to the ton, revealing that she is hosting them all. Buckingham Palace must be absolutely buzzing with servants, confidantes, and royal advisors. I wonder if Her majesty can keep up with this much action, given the state of her absent-from-the-throne husband.
The Prince and Princess of Sokovia also attended the glamorous event. The two seem quite attached to the hip—that is, until the Prince had spotted Lady Stark from across the ballroom. Shortly after arriving to the soirée, the dashing man made quick work of showing his interest in the spinster. Perhaps that term may not apply to Lady Stark much longer. We shall have to see where this story may lead. It certainly seems as though the relationship may move faster than the multi-year courting of Duke Rogers and Miss Carter.
The author wonders what Viscount Barnes, who shared a dance with Duke Stark's sister earlier in the evening, thinks about the aforementioned prospect. Though, if Lady Fontaine had a say, His Grace would be plenty occupied with Miss Gold.
In other, less consequential news, Sir Quill, Baron of Guardians, has reentered the ton after retreating to mourn the sudden and tragic loss of his wife, Lady Gamora. It seems, however, that this time away may not have been long enough, as he was seen swirling about the dance floor, crying into the shoulders of poor young women who graciously accepted his invitation to dance. Perhaps the Baron should retreat back to his family in the countryside to heal before he drowns himself and the rest of the ton in his tears.
Surely if this first ball is any indication of how the rest of the social season may go, it is set to be quite an interesting one.
Yours truly,
Lady Vraidire
author's note: dramaaaaaa. i loved writing this mess of a night. i didn't proofread the later half of the chapter as much would have liked to. i wanted to get it out to you all, so sorry if there's any mistakes. did any one catch the little women reference or nah lol please consider a like, reblog, and/or a comment-i crave validation. P.S. free my mans, aaron taylor johnson.
dividers by @/bronzewasp (gold frame) & @/cursed-carmine (pink bow)
I saved this to devour during my lunch break and I was not disappointed. You did indeed feed me from your finest china. This is giving Bridgerton (obvi) and some Pride & Prejudice. It’s making me want to dive into some historical romance novels!
Marriage and children are not milestones he dreams for himself. His work keeps him plenty busy and his leisure keeps him plenty gratified. As any dashing and strong man like him, Bucky has his fair share of women who casually satisfied his needs without the emotional baggage and formalities of courtship.
OK ANTHONY BRIDGERTON WELCOME BACK!!!
"And anything they miss is surely included in Lady Vraidire's Society Papers."
LMAO READ HER FOR FILTH - God I love her and how she’s so supremely sassy.
If you should like to find yourself an acceptable woman to wed, perhaps you shall first make yourself into an acceptable man worth marrying."
SHOTS FIRED BOOM BOOM BOOM DO YOU HEAR THAT??? The sound of my man’s ego crumbling to bits.
HAHAHA sunny, i love your reactions. i’m so glad you’re enjoying it!! and yes Bucky is written with heavy inspo from the king of yearning, himself, anthony bridgerton!! lastly, no one messes with a stark 😉😉
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