work or bitch about the regency au bc *handflex* i need to know
hello my dear! I did a 15 min sprint on regency and only got about 64 words out, but it's something. It was fun to look at it again (honestly only around 400 odd words in total atm) because I quite like what I've written so far. It's really so far from anything and I have a few different ideas on how a regency au could go, but I had this scene in my head and started playing around. A bit more bridgerton than p&p, but then that's the thing: I have a whole p&p thing kicking around in my head too. We should have all the regency au's tbh.
A bitch about it though is that I'm suddenly worried about if I'm writing Jake and Bradley, or if they are just two random characters in a regency setting. Like, what makes them them and how do I keep them that way in a regency setting? Guess I gotta take cues from all the great secret relationship fics there are!
Sitting across from him at the gentleman's club they have both been members of since birth, Bradley settles back in his leather chair as he watches Seresin celebrate his win at the gambling table. His satisfied grin is blinding in the lamplight while he scoops up coins and notes he doesn't need to line his pockets. The head of their friend, Lord Garcia, thumps to the table in despair over his defeat. Lord Fitch is patting his shoulder in comfort. Bradley smirks as he lifts his glass to his lips, so he can blame the cognac for the warmth in his chest. Seresin's eyebrow quirks at him.
"How easily amused you are to see your friend in such distress, Lord Bradshaw. Perhaps you'd care to challenge me in a game instead?" Seresin proposes, eyes alight with mischief. The cards are already being reshuffled.
"Anyone who dares to wager against you is a fool, Seresin," He drawls back. "Now, we can't blame dear Mickey here for his courage to take you up on your bet. I, however, know you too well, and thus am far more content to spend my evening merely as an observer. I find it just as thrilling." Bradley settles further back in his seat and uses his near-empty glass to salute the man.
"No one knows me quite as you do." Green eyes meet his own, and hold him there. He wonders how many sighs the dimple punctuating that sly smile has caused in young ladies.
"No," Bradley finds himself replying, voice softening as he remains transfixed. "No, I can't say they do."
If anyone were to mention the flush high on his cheeks, he's definitely blaming the cognac.
