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Anthony stood outside, overlooking the gardens of the large estate his sister now managed as well as her newborn son. It was actually why he was here. With the duke and duchess here, the young earl - a title little Augie inherited from his father - took up most of the Duke’s and Duchesses attention, rightfully so. While their mother had to return to London to care for their siblings, Anthony had no immediate duties he had to tend to beyond the ledgers and those could wait or taken care of by Benedict or sent along.
He had joined his sister and his best friend in their new home for one reason alone: Help in the one way he knew how to help: take the running of the estate and dukedom out of their hands so they were free to focus on their son entirely.
He had also been the one to organize the party this evening where the people of the immediate cities and ton would be hosted at the estate to celebrate the arrival of the new little earl, now that he was old enough to endure as many visitors.
He was the only one who excused himself outside at that very moment, with a glass of wine in his hands, he just wanted a bit of fresh air, until he saw a figure approaching.
“Berbrooke?” he asked incredulously. He certainly had not received an invitation and he had no intention of letthing him into the party to upset the young mother and his nephew.
“We have a score to settle, Bridgerton. You’re as good as any.” A score? That was impossible. He had a scandal to thank for being sent out of London and losing any hope of finding a wife in the ton. It was his own fault. He came closer.
“I will be happy to...” Anthony froze as Berbrooke got up close and he suddenly felt a pistol pressed to his side. “Have you no ho-” this time he was cut off by the loud bang of a gun being shot and the blinding pain errupting in his side.