VIOLET BRIDGERTON !! GIVE ME JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE !! I COULD BE YOUR CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GIRLFRIEND !!
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VIOLET BRIDGERTON !! GIVE ME JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE !! I COULD BE YOUR CONTROVERSIALLY YOUNG GIRLFRIEND !!
Nobody, I repeat, nobody is invested in this polin drama as THEY are. Anthony and Benedict are eating this shit up 🗣️ (they're so pathetic)
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ┅ 𝖠𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗒 𝖡𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗈𝗇 & 𝖣𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗇𝖽! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 s𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘝𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘰𝘯, 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺…𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭. ﹙𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹚
The morning mist clung to the Rhine like a veil reluctant to lift.
You stood at the edge of the courtyard of your family’s estate in Bavaria, gloves clasped tightly in your hands, watching as trunks were fastened and secured to the carriage that would take you to the coast, and then to England.
Your father, a notable viscount in his own right, cleared his throat.
“You understand what this season means,” he said gently in German. “London is…different.”
“I am aware, Papa,” you replied, though your voice wavered despite your efforts. “I have read extensively on English custom.”
Your mother smiled softly, stepping forward. “Reading of English custom and surviving it are two entirely different sciences, liebchen.”
You laughed faintly. “Then I shall consider it my greatest experiment to date.”
Your father chuckled. “Just remember, mathematics will not calculate a good husband.”
“No,” you said thoughtfully. “But perhaps it may eliminate the unsuitable ones.”
Your mother hid a smile.
When the time came to board, your mother embraced you tightly. “Lady Danbury is formidable. You must listen to her. She will guide you.”
“I shall make you proud,” you whispered.
“You already have,” your father said.
And then the carriage rolled away.
—
London was louder, grander, and infinitely more chaotic than anything you had imagined.
Lady Danbury received you at her townhouse with keen, assessing eyes and an approving nod.
“Ah,” she declared, circling you once like a general inspecting a promising recruit. “Germany has not disappointed.”
You curtsied. “Lady Danbury, I am most grateful for your hospitality.”
She waved a hand. “Gratitude is unnecessary. Your mother is a wonderful friend of mine. Besides here competence is preferred.”
Her ladies-in-waiting hovered nearby, whispering excitedly as they escorted you inside.
Over tea, Lady Danbury wasted no time.
“You must understand the battlefield,” she began. “This season is precisely that.”
“Battlefield?” you echoed.
“Yes. The Queen presides as sovereign commander. Every eligible young lady seeks distinction. One will be named the lustrous diamond of the season.”
“And what determines such a distinction?” you asked.
“Beauty, wit, breeding…and above all else novelty.”
One of the ladies leaned closer. “You are a strong contender, my lady.”
You blinked. “On what grounds?”
“Well,” she said breathlessly, “I hear you speak three languages, fence, ride astride, discuss Newton and astronomy without blinking-”
“And I am told you corrected a decorated professor once,” another added.
You flushed. “He miscalculated a theorem is all.”
Lady Danbury’s lips twitched. “Yes. That sort of thing.”
“And that…is desirable?” you asked cautiously.
“In a sea of identical lilies,” Lady Danbury said dryly, “a rose with thorns is infinitely more interesting.”
—
The debut ball glittered like a constellation come to earth.
Your first sight of London society was a whirl of silk and jewels beneath chandeliers.
You were observing quietly when a murmur rippled through the room.
“Lady Whistledown,” someone whispered, while a a folded pamphlet was handed to the queen.
In front of the door, a young woman dressed in similar clothes as you, clearly shaken, was being escorted away.
You recognized her from earlier introductions. Miss Eloise Bridgerton.
Later, near the edge of the ballroom, you found her standing stiffly by a column.
“That was a dreadful ambush,” you said gently.
She looked at you, startled. “Do you speak as though you were not entertained by it.”
“I find public humiliation a poor form of amusement.”
Eloise’s eyes flickered down, “You do not seem like you are from around here. Your accents different.”
“I should hope not.”
She studied you. “You are the German viscount’s daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I am Eloise Bridgerton.”
“A pleasure.”
She sighed dramatically. “My presentation was halted by scandal. I am quite certain my mother will insist I attend every ball henceforth as penance.”
“Then I hope we meet again,” you said warmly. “Any man fortunate enough to capture your interest will be exceedingly well done.” You hold her hand tight and squeeze it before letting go.
Eloise stared, and then burst into laughter. “That might be the most delightful thing I have been told all day.”
Before you could respond, Lady Danbury appeared.
“We are leaving,” she announced briskly, “Come along.”
As she steered you toward the exit, you collided solidly with someone.
Strong hands caught your waist.
You looked up.
And met the gaze of Anthony Bridgerton, Viscount Bridgerton.
Dark eyes, and Intense.
Your breath stilled.
“My apologies,” he said, voice low.
“No harm done,” you replied.
For one suspended moment, neither of you moved.
Then Lady Danbury cleared her throat sharply.
You stepped back.
Anthony watched you leave.
—
That evening, the Bridgerton drawing room was lively.
“Who,” Anthony asked casually, though not quite casually enough, “was the young lady speaking to Eloise?”
Eloise’s head snapped up. “Why?”
“Idle curiosity is all.”
Benedict smirked. “Idle? From you?”
Colin leaned forward eagerly. “Is she beautiful?”
“Yes,” Anthony said before he could stop himself.
Eloise grinned triumphantly. “She is also brilliant.”
Anthony frowned. “Brilliant?”
“She reads mathematics for pleasure,” Eloise declared. “And speaks of science as though she discovered it herself. Or so I’ve heard.”
“That sounds utterly terrifying. Do you like your women terrifying brother?” Colin said.
“I liked her immensely,” Eloise continued. “She is perhaps the only true scholar among this year’s crop.”
Anthony leaned back slowly.
Interesting.
Violet Bridgerton observed him keenly.
“And her name?” Anthony pried.
Eloise smiled sweetly. “Oh, I shall not make it so easy for you, brother.”
Groans and laughter filled the room.
Anthony, however, was no longer amused.
He was intrigued.
—
The following evening was Lady Danbury’s own affair, lavish, and daring to match the women.
You stood before the mirror as Lady Danbury inspected the gown sent from Germany.
It shimmered in a unique shade, somewhere between deep sapphire and a light blue silver frost. Intricate embroidery traced constellations along the bodice.
“My word,” one lady breathed. “You shall completely eclipse the room my lady.”
Lady Danbury nodded once. “Good.”
“Is subtlety not preferable?” you asked, staring at yourself in the mirror.”
“Subtlety is for women who wish to fade my dear,” she replied. “Tonight, you shall not fade.”
—
The ballroom fell quiet when you entered.
Whispers followed like ripples in water.
Anthony saw you instantly.
And forgot the conversation he had been pretending to endure.
She is a remarkable sight.
Before the line of suitors could properly form, he cut through them.
“Miss—” He bowed, extending his hand. “Might I claim the first dance?”
“You are certain you wish to begin your evening so decisively, my lord?” you teased.
“I am not a man who hesitates.”
You smiled, placing your gloved hand in his. “Very well.”
As you took the floor, conversation buzzed.
“You dance well,” he observed.
“I calculate patterns quickly.”
He blinked. “You calculate dancing?”
“All movement contains mathematics.”
Anthony chuckled. “Then I must hope I do not misstep.”
“You have not yet.”
Their steps grew bolder, and if you squinted closer.
“You are not intimidated,” he noted.
“Should I be?”
“Many are.”
“I was raised among fencing masters and scholars. I assure you, my lord, you are far less frightening.”
His lips curved. “I should like to be offended.”
“You should like to be challenged.”
He looked at you sharply.
Perhaps she truly is different.
—
Earlier that evening, you had conversed with Queen Charlotte herself.
You spoke not of gowns, but of astronomy. You found that the queen had an unexpected likeness towards the heavenly bodies.
“Stars are predictable,” you’d said thoughtfully. “Society on the other hand is not.”
The Queen had laughed. “How very true young lady.”
Now, as the dance concluded, a hush fell over the room.
The Queen rose.
“This season,” she declared, “shall not be dull.”
Lady Danbury watched from the sidelines, triumphant.
“I name this young lady-” The Queen gestured toward you. “-my diamond of the season.”
The words of others were quick to spread.
Anthony’s pulse thundered.
Of course. Of course it is her.
—
The air outside was cool. You escaped to the gardens, heart racing.
Diamond?
You inhaled deeply.
“I wondered where you had gone.”
Anthony stepped from the shadows.
“Escaping the spectacle,” you admitted.
“Well, you handled the commotion with grace.”
“Inside, I feel rather less composed.”
He studied you carefully. “You were not seeking this? Being the diamond?”
“No.”
“But you have accepted it.”
“I accept challenges.” You corrected.
He smiled slowly.
“You intrigue me my lady.” he said plainly.
“And you intrigue me, my lord.”
Silence lingered.
“You are unlike anyone I have met,” he continued. “You possess much more substance than any young lady I have conversed with tonight.”
You met his gaze evenly. “I would hope so.”
He stepped closer.
“I intend to marry this season.”
You stilled.
“And I was ready to settle, but it seems I do not intend to anymore.”
Your breath caught.
He held your gaze.
“Forgive me for my crudeness but I believe,” Anthony Bridgerton said quietly, “that I have found precisely what I require.”
—
Anthony entered the drawing room where his mother, Violet Bridgerton awaited.
“Well? Any lovely ladies catch your eye tonight?” she asked softly.
He did not hesitate.
“Mother I intend to marry the diamond of the season.”
Violet smiled knowingly. “And is that your head speaking Anthony?”
Anthony thought of your laughter, your wit.
“No,” he admitted.
“It is not.”
And for the first time since declaring his intention to wed, Anthony Bridgerton felt not obligation, but certainty.
“I’ve watched you grow up, had to be your father at times when I wanted only to be your brother.” Her lips parted as something squeezed around her heart. He was right. - To Sir Phillip, With Love
Imagine thinking a viscount’s family is middle class. Literal nobility. The queen literally visits them once in a while.
jess and nick inspired kiss
Bad Timing
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: Bridgerton
Day 25 Prompt: "Do I look like I knew that?"
Summary: When Eloise needs help with a problem, she knows she can count on her brother and his new wife for help.
Word Count: 1,047
Category: Fluff, Humor
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.