Gojo x F!Reader || A Bridgerton / Regency Era AU ♔
Inspired by this song from Anastasia
A displaced princess taking refuge in a foreign land, and a Duke with manners unbefitting his station. While one of you cannot afford to tempt scandal, the other relishes it. Your paths crossed on a fated Summer's day long ago. Forgotten in the whirlwind of time, yet haunted, by your smile, by his eyes.
The morning light peers through the window of the Gojo manor, ushering in a new day as the servants methodically revert the great house to its usual state. The house itself has seen many grand balls during its time. And Oh, if the walls can speak, the stories they could tell. The young master is not the first wayward noble to walk its grounds, but certainly one of the most intriguing. The statues in the garden are the silent witnesses of his nighttime audience, but the paintings in his study will attest to his solemn grace as he contemplates last night’s soiree.
The morning has always been a quiet affair in the household. Just the Duke and his mother breaking their fast in relative peace.
“So, tell me more about the young lady.”
The sudden question nearly causes the young Duke Gojo to spit out his tea.
“What-” He coughs, “which young lady?”
“The young lady from house Kamo, of course.” She quirks an eyebrow inquisitively, “or is there another one I should know about?”
“No, mother. Of course not.”
For a moment, Satoru had thought that his mother was somehow privy to his rendezvous last night with the soprano from the new opera house. Of course not, you have kept his secret.
“She’s fine, I suppose, just like any young lady.”
“Fine. I would have guessed that she was more than just ‘fine’, the way you practically dragged her to the dance floor.”
“Well, I did promise you I would dance.”
“Is that really all there is to it, I wonder?” She sips her tea “You two would make a handsome couple indeed.”
Satoru scowls at the prospect.
“You know better than to say that, dear mother. You know me. I would never accept anyone you shove my way.” He pauses. “It’s just not in my nature.”
“Your stubbornness is no longer endearing at your age, Satoru. Especially after you ascended to the dukedom.”
“You wound me so, dear Mama.” He put both hands up to his chest, matching the dramatic flair in his playful tone.
“Though I must say, the Earl Kamo must want her to be married off as soon as possible and out of his hair.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Well, for a start, they’re letting her wear the family heirloom blood ruby. Which I bet signals to all present suitors that the lady comes with a significant dowry.”
“I suppose that will make her all the more desirable, but I can’t see how it is a mark against the girl.”
“It is when you consider during the entire time we danced, she did not smile even once!” The Duke, ever the pompous man that he is, is clearly bothered by the fact that his charm does not work on you. A young lady who should, by all right be swooning for him.
“Is that so?”
“Lovely face, I must admit. But what a terrible countenance! No wonder the Earl wants her out as soon as possible. Can’t have someone like that darken the drawing room day in and day out.”
The Duke, The Rake, The Drama Queen.
His mother is, however, used to his theatrics. She knows the bigger the show he puts on, the further it is from the truth. Gojo Satoru is many things. But underneath all that smoke and mirrors, he is that same little boy, waiting for a chance to see the princess’s smile once more. Oh, his mother is familiar with his old infatuation, but she knows too well that pride is his undoing. He must find his path on his own…maybe with a little nudging.
“Well, you said she was ‘fine’. If you want to lie, dear boy. At least keep it consistent.”
The young duke sputters.
‘Maybe more than a little nudge.’
…
Your POV
“Say, Nobara. What do you know about the Duke Gojo?”
“I’ve heard that he took after his father, the late Duke, my lady.” Your lady’s maid, snickers. She has always been frank to a fault, with a sharp wit to match. Aside from Choso, she’s the one person you trust most.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Oh, the late Duke was an absolute rake!” She says as she braids the pale satin ribbon to your hair expertly, there is a glint of mischief in her eyes. The young maid loves nothing more than to share her insight on the ton’s most recent gossip. “And I heard that the current duke is more or less the same.”
“I must say I’m not surprised.” You sigh.
Those blue eyes. Probably one of the bastards of the late Duke.
“Quiet a pity isn’t it, my lady? I’ve heard that the Duke is rather handsome.”
“I suppose he is.” You smile, remembering the man you danced with just the night before. Were it not for the unfortunate encounter before the dance, would you have fallen for his charm like all the other young ladies? Perhaps. But without it, you suspect that he would never have spared you a single thought let alone a dance.
“All done, my lady!‘
In the mirror, you see a young lady staring back at you with all the poise and grace in the world. You are wearing a soft-colored gown that complements your complexion, with hair ribbons to match. Nobara looks on proudly at her handy work with a victorious grin.
“I bet the whole ton will be lining up towards our drawing room today!”
“You’re too good to me, Nobara.”
You smile as she curtsies and proceeds to go on her daily duties. She’s so excited to be proper lady’s maid now that you’re ‘out’. You don’t have the heart to tell her that you’re very much dreading the gentleman callers that might just appear out of the blue.
“The whole ton lining up to our drawing room.” You shudder, “what a nightmare.”
You take one deep breath as you steel yourself for a day of endless smiling and inane conversations.
…
As the last of the callers left, you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Your back hit the plush cushion of the drawing room chaise lounge. Very unladylike, but right now, it’s the least of your concerns. You close your eyes and stretch. You feel a dip on the seat next to you followed by a groan. You don’t even need to open your eyes to know that it’s your dear cousin, who has finally emerged from his study.
“Good afternoon, Choso.”
“Heavens, spare me…”
“Spare us both.” You sigh, “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“You want to swap?” He asks.
“What, me brooding in the study and you simpering in corsets?”
The mere thought of it lifts your spirits. “I’d like to see you try!” You laugh.
“Best not. You won’t be able to cope, little duck.”
“What, you think I’m not clever enough to understand your estate papers?”
“No, not that. You won’t be able to compete with me in corset.”
The drawing room fills with laughter. Though it was only a momentary respite as the dowager countess started to hurry you both along for tonight’s engagements.
“Are we expected somewhere?” You question, as you could have sworn that you have a free evening tonight.
“Ah yes, I have just received a note to attend the opera tonight.” Lady Kamo sounds excited. It cheers you to see the light returning to her gentle eyes this season. She reminds you of her sister, your dear late grandmama.
“And that is my cue to leave.” Choso starts to head towards his study.
“Where do you think you’re going, young man?” She scolds. But alas, the Earl can be quick on his feet and is already so far down the hallway he can feign ignorance.
Lady Kamo signs, helpless in chasing down her grandson, has her attention trained back at you.
“Now, my dear. You must make haste!”
…
Your bewilderment is mirrored in the depth of the sapphire pair.
You and Lady Kamo’s invites to the opera are in fact, courtesy of the Dowager Duchess Gojo. You and the Duke, both evidently kept in the dark, are rendered speechless by the arrangement. Escorted by an increasingly tense Duke to their box, you curse your cousin for abandoning you yet again. You have half a mind of swapping out your corset for his estate papers if you survive the evening.
As the two ladies start catching up on society gossip, it is apparent that they have not come to the opera for the new soprano. You are seated next to the Duke in awkward silence. You pray that the show will start so that you’ll have something to fix your attention to. For now, you have only the small opera pamphlet to keep you from having to make small talk.
“This is all my mother’s doing, I must say. I have no part in dragging you into her schemes. Nor do I wish to.”
Your head turned to a somewhat sheepish-looking Gojo, eyes avoiding yours.
“I see, Your Grace.” A lull of silence. “Though I suppose, it could be a coincidence. The ladies seem to be great friends.”
The Duke seemingly considering the notion, shrugs.
The play begins with a beautiful aria by the opera’s leading soprano, singing of long-forgotten love. ‘A rather melodramatic theme for the night. The Duke must not be very pleased.’, you thought to yourself. You look to the stage, enchanted by the beauty of the lady belting out impossible notes, tugging at your heart. Would you ever come to know the love she sings about? With how rare a love match is in high society, romances only belong on stage and in the pages of novels.
“Do you enjoy the opera, Your Grace?” You couldn’t help but ask.
He scoffs at your question. “Not at all. It is all the same; loudly sung in a foreign tongue.”
You dared to glance at him for his sharp comment, expecting a man out of his element. But his expression betrayed his biting words. His eyes soften to the tune, as if he was completely transported by the plight of the heroine. You choose to refrain from teasing him. Instead, you are content to observe the side of the Duke that has proved contrary to your assumption.
Maybe this evening is not as bad as it seems after all.
You follow the Duke’s lead and immerse yourself in the music. The rich vibrato, the heavenly chorus, the sweet lilting voice of the beautiful soprano—Like the one in the garden.
Your neck snaps towards one Gojo Satoru instinctively.
‘Is this why he enjoys the opera so much?’
Noticing your gaze, the Duke finally turns to meet your eyes.
“It was her, wasn’t it?” You ask, barely a whisper. Though you’re certain that the Duke has heard you clearly, as the colors drain from his face, mouth agape.
In a moment of surprise, you allowed yourself to act on impulse. It was not your intention to make the Duke feel ill at ease, especially not as a guest in his family’s box.
You lean towards the poor man, trying to calm his nerves.
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I forget myself.”
You detect a small nod from the Duke. Afraid of making the situation worse, you leave him at that. Silently berating yourself for your faux pas.
There is something about the Duke that set your nerves on edge, leading you to make missteps after missteps. ‘You have trained your whole for this!’ Years of lessons on social graces and mannerisms. How to act, how to speak, how to think. And yet, in the presence of Gojo Satoru, all of your defenses shatter. The impulsivity you’ve learned to suppress, the sharp tongue you’ve learned to hold.
‘No, it is unfair to blame your own deficiency on him.’
But those eyes. Those damn eyes.
The curtain falls on the evening, replaced with the soft velvet of your drawing room. Last night’s blunder keeps on repeating in your mind. You sit by the windowsill watching the raindrops racing down the glass pane, absently tracing them with your fingertips. You thank the heavens for the downpour, as it gives you a chance to collect your thoughts without having to put on a pleasant smile.
Imprisoned in your own thought, you’ve missed the footman’s announcement that a gentleman has come to call on you.
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Thank you for reading!
A/N: This one is a short one. After taking so long…Aaahhh I’m sorry!
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