A Lord & A Lady: Part 6
for @blooming-violets
TASM!Peter Parker x (fem)Reader - Bridgerton AU
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven
Warnings: kidnapping, angst, tears, fighting
Summary: Will Peter Parker find his fiancé in time?
—
Peter’s heart races, drumming loudly against his chest as his panicked brown eyes warily scan over the ransom note in his white-knuckled clutch. His stomach turns as he rereads the words written on the paper.
The Captor threatened a brutal death for the Duchess if they were not to receive a handsome sum of money by dawn.
Peter’s chest rises and falls, a tidal wave of rage washes over him as he crumples the paper in his shaking fist, letting it drop to the ground. He glances towards the ballroom, searching the sea of faces for his beloved Bluebell to no avail.
However, Peter’s weepy eyes did meet Anthony Bridgerton’s inquisitive gaze from across the bustling ballroom floor. The Viscount’s brows lace together - his eyes locked in on Peter. Anthony immediately pauses his waltz, giving Kate a chaste kiss on the cheek before leaving her behind on the dance floor as he stalks towards Peter.
Benedict sits down his drink, following closely behind his brother, dodging dancing debutants and Mamas to get to his friend.
Peter slowly backs away from the manor, scouring over the outer parts of the ivy covered estate, desperately hoping to spot his bride. He turns towards the babbling creek, squinting as his eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding the distant waterline.
He is frozen as he watches on, swallowing hard as he sees a large figure moving by the oak trees next to the creek.
“You there!” Peter’s voice echoes through the field between him and the waterway, causing the shadow to pause for a moment. “Have you seen the Duchess!?”
The figure hurriedly dodges into the tree line, seemingly wading directly into the raging creek.
Peter’s stomach drops as the hair on the back of his neck stands straight.
Without another thought, he takes off in a full sprint, racing through the flower covered field towards the figure. The closer he grows to the stranger, the deeper they seem to stumble into the rushing current.
The moonlight illuminates the creek, now displaying the figure in full view.
Peter quickly recognized the face of Sir Fredrick, who was braced against a large oak tree laid along the embankment of the creek, clinging to the Duchess, still thrown over his wide shoulder - her ornate indigo ball gown twinkles against the moon’s beams, falling like liquid into the rushing water.
His feet cannot seem to move fast enough as soles of his black shoes slap against the grassy meadow, watching on as Fredrick turns away from the tree and begins wading deeper into the water. Peter’s blood boils as he sees the Duchess’ limp body swaying with every move Fredrick made.
Peter reaches the creek’s embankment, lunging towards his fiancé’s captor, almost super human-like as he flies through the air. His body collides with Sir Fredrick, knocking the Duchess from his grip.
“No!” The large man turns towards Peter, huffing while he tries to pull the unconscious Duchess back into his clutch.
“Pete!” Anthony screams breathlessly as he and Benedict quickly approach the creek’s embankment.
Peter’s bound fist meets Fredrick’s cheek with a dull crack, his opposite hand lands another punch to the man’s jaw, knocking him away from the Duchess; causing her to begin to sink into the rushing tributary.
Peter lunges for his Bluebell, his large hand wraps around her wrist, bringing her into his gentle embrace. The rushing water slaps against him as he clings to his bride.
Sir Fredrick brings his wide hand to his spilt and bleeding cheek before his angry eyes meet Peter’s, “I will kill you for that, Parker.”
“You can try,” Peter grits his teeth, holding tight to the Duchess as he fights the deluge of water.
Anthony and Benedict jump into the current after their friends.
“I would not come closer if I were you, Fredrick,” Peter hisses, now backed against the stream side as his flat palm spreads protectively across his Bluebell’s spine, clinging to her limp body as the water rages around them. “Truly, I say - I shall kill you if you come any closer to me or my wife.”
Peter’s once perfectly quaffed hair is now wild as his dark eyes remain fixated on Fredrick, now looming closer to him. He clings to his fiancé as Benedict and Anthony swim over, putting themselves between their friends and the assailant.
“Do not dare move, Fredrick,” Anthony’s voice booms as he and Benedict apprehend the captor; a brawl ensues between the men as Peter slowly pulls himself and the Duchess from the rushing water and onto the dewy moss.
Peter’s voice trembles as he drops to his knees, “Sweetheart..” his trembling hands ghost over the body of his betrothed.
“I- I must- I..” Peter’s vision is too hazy from the tears filling his eyes to see as his shivering fingers brush against the freezing cold flesh of his fiancé’s exposed neck, hoping to find a pulse.
Hot tears run down his handsome face as he slowly cradles his beloved’s body in his arms “Stay with me- stay with me… Please,” he begs as he caresses her face. “Please.. Please stay. Do not leave me.”
He brings the Duchess closer to his chest as he sobs violently, feeling like a scared child as he cradles his best friend in his arms.
“Peter, go,” Benedict yells to Peter as he and Anthony seem to tie Sir Fredrick to a tree by the creek. “Get her to safety!” He cries.
Peter looks up at his friends, the men share the same petrified look, like terrified little boys staring silently at one another as the sound of the river rages behind the trio.
“Pete.. you have to go..” tears fall down Anthony’s cheeks as nods towards the manor in the distance. “Go!”
Peter nods wildly, still in shock as he slowly stands, clinging to his bride as he walks towards the distant glow of the soiree.
Time seems frozen as he approaches the manor, the amber light of the candelabras illuminated he and the Duchess as they step across the threshold of the busy ballroom.
The five string quartet comes to an unharmonious halt as shocked guests gasp at the sight before them.
The vast ballroom grows quiet as Peter slowly makes his way through the crowd, his eyes remain transfixed on his beautiful bride as they ascend up the flower-lined staircase, glowing candelabras guide Peter’s path to the Duchess’ room.
Hurried staff come running as Peter gently lays the Duchess on her neatly made bed. He stands protectively over her as Sarah and Lady May rush over to him.
They are saying something, but he cannot hear, for his thoughts are muffled, they are only of his Bluebell. She looked like an angel illuminated by the single candle stick glowing by her bedside.
He swallows hard as hot tears continue to fall down his cheeks, unmoving as he watches the staff work around the Duchess. A footman kindles a raging fire in the hearth as maids grab sheets and towels.
“We must undress the Duchess,” a maid whispers to Sarah. She turns to Peter, “My Lord, you must leave the room. We must undress the Duchess from these wet clothes so we can warm her.”
Peter’s chocolate eyes remain on his unconscious bride.
“Peter,” Lady May whispers. “It is indecent of you to stay.”
“I will not be leaving her side,” he mutters, his already bruising fists remained clenched tightly by his side as silent tears fall, hitting the ground along with the water dripping off of his wet clothes.
“Peter,” Sarah coos. “You must leav-“
“I will do no such thing!” Peter explodes as he turns to Sarah, his tearful gaze like daggers as he stares her down. “I cannot leave her, Sarah,” his voice breaks, his chest heaves.
Sarah swallows back burning tears.
The room is quiet other than the crackling of the fireplace and Peter’s trembling breathing. The staff is frozen as they await approval from Sarah. She lets out an exhausted sigh before she nods. The room erupts as the staff begin to slowly strip both the Duchess and Lord Parker from their soiled clothes.
“Peter, honey,” May whispers as she rubs Peter’s bare shoulder. “What on earth happened?”
All Peter can do is cry as he turns to May, bending his tall frame to bury his face into her neck as he continues to sob. May runs her long nails through Peter’s damp hair.
“He tried to kill her, May. He was going to kill her. He has done something to her to paralyze her..” he explains.
“Who did, Peter?” Sarah chimes in.
“Sir Fredrick,” Anthony replies as he and Benedict walk into the room, quickly averting their eyes as they see the Duchess in such a state. “Please, Lady May.. Sarah. Let us speak in a different room.” The pair oblige, following the two Bridgerton brothers out of the room, leaving Peter and the Duchess behind as the staff continue tending to them.
“Lord Parker,” a maid whispers, motioning Peter towards the raging fireplace. “You must continue shedding your clothing. We do not need to have you catching a chill, my Lord.”
He nods, stepping backwards towards the flames. His eyes remain on his motionless bride as silent tears fall down his cheeks “Will she be okay?”
“I do not know, my Lord,” the maid sighs. “The best we can do is keep her warm and safe, Your Grace..”
“Please,” he turns towards the woman. “-Call me Peter.”
She nods, her wrinkled eyes smile as she murmurs, “Peter.. we will do best we can to keep Your Grace warm and comfortable. The Doctor should be here soon enough.”
The maid gives Peter a sad smile as she unfolds a beautiful quilt, “Here, this will keep you warm.” Peter bows towards the maid, letting her wrap the heavy blanket around his shoulders, “I did not get your name.”
“Lizbeth, sir,” she smiles, then turns to the footman. Her wrinkled finger points towards a chair in the corner of the room, “Patrick, please be a dear and move that besides the Duchess’ bed for Peter so he can watch over her comfortably.”
“I can stand,” Peter says, pulling the quilt a little tighter around his bare shoulders.
“You will sit,” Lizbeth retorts as she guides Peter towards the chair. “You may not have to rest your mind, but you do need to rest your body. The Duchess can be seen from this chair just as well as she can be seen if you were standing.”
Peter nods before ultimately sitting in the large chair beside his fiancé’s bed. The silent tears turn to violent sobs as Peter lays himself over her body, burying his face in the covers in hopes of muffling his pained cries, “I-I am so- so sorry.. I failed you too.”
A firm hand pats Peter on the back, “Pete.”
Anthony.
“Pete, he is insisting on only speaking to you,” Benedict sighs. “He refuses to say anything besides how he “finally bested the Watsons once and for all”. He will not explain a thing to us. He is truly mad.”
Peter sits up and turns towards his friends. “He said what?” He asks with jaws clenched.
Anthony repeats what Benedict said, “Fredrick keeps going on about how he has ‘finally bested to Watsons once and for all’. It simply does not make sense, Pete.”
“Bring him to me,” Peter says plainly.
-
Peter stands in the middle of the threshold going into The Duchess’ bed chamber, standing guard as he waits for the Bridgerton’s return with Sir Fredrick. His bare chest heaves as he tries to exhale out his rage. His clenched fists shake at his sides as tries to calm his angry heart. He closes his eyes, memories of seeing his Bluebell’s limp body thrown over Fredrick’s shoulder flood Peter’s thoughts. He shakes his head, trying to shake away the horrible memories.
His head snaps up towards the sound of multiple sets of foot steps approaching him. His eyes lock in on those of his fiancé’s abductor.
Before he can think, Peter lunges towards the tall man, tackling him to the floor of the hallway; landing a few vicious blows to his body before Benedict and Anthony pull the men apart.
Peter’s angry eyes remained on Fredrick, who had a smug grin plastered across his face, “What is the matter, Parker?”
“What do you mean when you say you finally bested the Watsons?” Peter asks. Anthony keeps a firm hand wrapped around Peter’s arm.
Sir Fredrick let out a low chuckle, “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of a genius, Parker.”
“Peter,” Benedict interjects. “We can take him away whenever you would like.”
“It’s fine, Ben,” Peter looks at the freckled man in front of him, “Tell me what you mean. Now.”
He tries to step closer to Peter, but Benedict holds his arms tightly behind his back. Fredrick huffs before smiling slightly - his eyes locked in on Peter.
“Once upon a time there was a beautiful woman who fell in love with a common man. Their love was passionate, a summer love, blossoming under secrecy. They had promised themselves to one another, bound forever - for eternity.. or so the common man thought.”
Fredrick’s face drops.
“The beautiful woman left the commoner for a man of status - a Duke. The common man spent years mourning the loss of his potential love, watching on from a distance as she married the Duke and sired two children - a girl and a boy,” Fredrick continues to tell his story.
“The commoner went mad watching idly as his love flourished in life without him, reminding him of how he was nothing without her,” Fredrick paused, smirking slightly, “However, one day, the common man hatched a plan.. one that he was convinced would work. He would set the Duke’s home on fire, sneak into the blaze to save his love and then begin a life with her after her family had perished.”
Peter watched on, confused by Fredrick’s story, “I do not understand.”
“You see, Lord Parker - the commoner’s plan was that of a fool’s… for when he set the home on fire he did kill the other family members, even the staff. But, when he had arrived at his lost love’s side, she too had perished due to the smoke inhalation,” Sir Fredrick let out an exhausted sigh before shaking his head. “The man thought that with his lost love and her family gone that he could finally move on after all of these years.”
Benedict and Anthony eye one another, fear washed over their faces as they start to piece things together.
“Unfortunately, the man simply was unable to move on in view of the fact that he did not kill all of his lost love’s family… One remained unscathed-” Fredrick’s eyes darken as he stared Peter down, “One family member was left to remind my father of what he had done.”
Peter’s heart sank. Anthony and Benedict's eyes widen.
“ A daughter. A fortunate Duchess - Mary Jane Watson.” Benedict and Anthony grow white. Peter thought he was going to be sick.
“My father was a stupid man. He died a stupid man. But what I am not is stupid. I was going to end what he could not. Her face. Her presence.. She is the reason my father was mad. Her face was that of her mother’s. I could no longer live knowing she was alive and my father was not.”
The men stood in silence. Peter looks at Benedict and gives him a small nod before turning towards his fiancé’s bed chamber and walking over to the bed. Benedict and Anthony take Sir Fredrick to the police waiting down the stairs.
Peter slowly sits down beside the bed, wrapping his bare shoulders with the quilt from before. He sits silently, his gaze locked on the beautiful woman laying peacefully in the bed.
“Mary Jane,” he whispers through silent tears. “I love you. Please wake up, baby.”
He lays his head onto her chest, his hand wraps around her hand as he slowly drifts to sleep to the most peaceful sound he knows; the beat of Mary Jane Watson’s heart.
——
Welp, there it is yall - it’s been… a while. My bad. Life has been whooping my ass in so many different ways. I doubt that a lot of people will even read this!! If you have read this far, I really am so sorry for such a long wait, I hope this makes up for my absence? I love you I love you I love you - Cait <3
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