#Eloise bridgerton imagine

[allthornsnopetals]

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

[frost-queen]

Good luck, babe (Fem!Reader x Eloise Bridgerton)

For @chxrrybomb22, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 , @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers   , @merlieve   , @queen-of-books  , @glimmering-darling-dolly   ,@denkisclown  , @wildieflower   ,@meyocoko    , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl  , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampthing07   , @melsunshine   @panhoeofmanyfandoms  , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat ,@rosecentury ,@imagines-by-her ,@evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303   ,@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

Summary: Forbidden love story based on the song Good luck, babe by Chappell Roan.

“Where are you going?” – Colin asked his sister, seeing Eloise pull her higher up. – “To see my friend.” – she replied with a witty glance. – “It is calling hour, dear sister.” – Colin reminded her. – “Yes and I can guarantee you no man shall call upon me today.” – Eloise answered grabbing for her reticule that laid on the sofa. – “Eloise.” – Violet spoke putting her cup of tea down.

It made her groan softly with a roll of her eyes. – “You know it is true mama.” – she said to make it clear no one would call upon her today. – “You may never know.” – Violet let out in persuasion of her daughter to stay. – “Then tell him I shall be available tomorrow.” – Eloise stated with a most entertaining curtsy.

It made Hyacinth snort loud. Even Francesca giggled quietly, moving her hand in front of her mouth. – “Eloise!” – Violet got up, having set her tea aside. Eloise left the drawing room. Violet stared speechless at her son, hoping he could make sense of this. Colin simply tried to supress a smile. – “It is true mama.” – Hyacinth spoke slapping Gregory’s hand as he reached for the last chocolate biscuit. – “No man has ever called upon Eloise.” – Hyacinth finished grabbing the biscuit. Gregory stuck his tongue out to her. Violet rubbed her forehead thoughtfully, keeping one hand on her stomach. 

“Very well.” – she spoke defeated, turning to dear Francesca. Francesca gave her a soft smile back. The door opened as one of the staff entered. – “A caller for miss Bridgerton.” – he said with a bow. Violet stroke her skirt out of habit. Gesturing to the man to let him enter afterwards. A dashing gentleman entered calling for Miss Francesca Bridgerton.

Violet turned her attention to Francesca. Eloise’s carriage was riding towards an estate a few blocks away. Once the carriage turned into a street, she recognized it. Having seen it multiple times from the outside, but never been inside. The carriage came to a stop. Eloise sticking her head out of the little window.

The orange roses were in bloom. The footman let Eloise out. Adjusting the shawl over he arms, she prepared herself to go in. The doorman opened as Eloise announced herself. She followed the doorman inside. Eloise waited a bit outside of the drawing room till she was announced. – “A caller for miss Y/n Y/l/n.” – he spoke with a bow.

Your parents shared a glorious gleam as it made you smile unsettling. Eloise entered with the grandest smile. – “Eloise!” – you called out surprised. – “Y/n.” – she replied with a curtsy. Your mother stepped forwards, blocking you a bit from Eloise. – “It is calling hours Miss Bridgerton.” – she made clear with a forced smile.

“Yes, and I would like to call upon Y/n.” – Eloise responded, having no trouble going against your mother. – “It will be quick.” – you reassured her. Your mother flashed her fan open, waving herself some cool. Eloise gestured for you to lead the way as you tried to supress your smile. Taking Eloise by the elbow, you led her out of the drawing room. – “You are terrifying Eloise!” – you shout-whispered to her in disbelieve that she was here. – “What can I say, I missed you.” – Eloise responded with a bit of flair. It made you laugh, drawing her more away from where your parents were waiting.

“Are you staying long?” – you asked her. – “No.” – she replied lowly. – “I wouldn’t wish to keep your admirers away from you.” – she continued giving you a little nudge. – “What admirers.” – you teased bursting out in laughter. – “Oh come on Y/n, you are beautiful. What man doesn’t feel compelled by you.” – Eloise spoke touching your forearm. You briefly glanced down at her touch, before flashing your gaze up to her eyes. – “What man indeed…” – your voice softened to almost a whisper.

Eloise gaze was caught in yours. Staring at each other in a moment of silence. Your parents interrupting, made you take a step back from her. – “I believe it is time for you to head home Miss Bridgerton. So we could receive more callers.” – your father announced. Eloise formed a smile, you knew was politely forced. – “Of course.” – Eloise replied with a curtsy. Your body moved instinctively a bit forwards when Eloise turned around to leave. You withheld yourself, keeping your head low. Your parents called you back in the drawing room, where you sat back down. Waiting for calling hours to be over.

You found yourself at the next gathering. A display of theatrics from the queen. You stood amongst the crowd, watching the two dancers dance so graceful and intimate. The music made you dream away of dancing on your own. Imagining yourself with eyes closed, moving as sensual as the woman. Then a set of hands gliding down your body. Soft hands that sparked each fibre in your body where they touched. Woman’s hands as you wanted to hear them whisper your name in your ear.

Blinking surprised, you were aware of your daydreaming and hoped you hadn’t looked foolishly amongst the crowd. The dance came to a stop as you clapped along with the others. Embarrassed you quickly moved to sit down as others of the ton moved to the middle of the room to dance or interact in a conversation. You sat alone, staring a bit lost in front of you. Expression a bit saddened. – “There you are!” – a voice came through as it made you blink yourself away. – “I have been looking everywhere for you.” – Eloise said happily coming to sit with you. Instantly you felt your heart leap with joy, smiling upon her.

“Are you not mingling amongst the others to find a match.” – Eloise teased making you puff at her. – “Dear Eloise, you know I have my heart set out to be a spinster.” – you told her as Eloise laughed loud. You turned a bit more to her. – “We could be spinsters together. Live somewhere off together and have no man dictate out lives for us.” – you proposed as Eloise kept laughing. – “I am being serious Eloise.” – you laughed out, letting your body bump against her. – “Don’t tell me you seek out a husband?” – you asked upholding a smile.

“God’s no.” – Eloise called out, making you sigh relieved. – “Then what is stopping us?” – you asked placing your hands on hers that laid on her lap. – “True as spinsters we will be treated poorly by the ton, but eventually they wouldn’t care anymore. We’d be free to do whatever we like. Just you and me in an estate, living our best lives.” – you proposed with much sincerity. – “How is it that you have such courage to be different?” – Eloise asked looking up at you. You gave her hand a soft squeeze. – “You give me courage.” – you told her with a smile on your lips. Your eyes drifting briefly down to her lips. – “Please think about it.”

With those final words, you got up, leaving Eloise’s side. Eloise stared, lost in her own thoughts. You walked behind the crowd, keeping close to the walls. Finding a place where you could settle. Forgotten in the back as you watched the others. It didn’t take Eloise long to join your side again. She kept quiet, simply standing by your side. You were watching some dancers, seeing her brother Anthony amongst them with Kate. He snuck in a kiss as it made you touch your lips. Inhaling a bit, you turned more to Eloise.

“Do you ever wonder what a kiss feels like?” – you asked her. – “Not really.” – Eloise answered with a shrug of her shoulder. – “Oh…” – you replied, turning away from her. Eloise picked up on it, quirking her eyebrow up. – “I assume it is nothing special.” – she said rhetorical. – “How about we test it out?” -  you suggested. – “Really?” – Eloise said surprised. You smiled teasingly, taking her by the hand.

“Frightened Eloise?” – you called out as you pulled her away. Darting around the room to a more secluded area. You pulled Eloise with you into an empty room. You let go of her hand, moving to the curtains. Pulling it back, then move closer to the glass. – “Want to keep it hidden?” – you teased moving the curtain before you.

Eloise laughed loud, approaching you. You kept moving the curtain back and forth, revealing yourself now and then to her with each another teasing expression. Eloise smiling radiating at you. She gasped loud when you took a hold of her wrist and pull her with you behind the curtains. Eloise had her brows furrowed till her expression softened upon you.

You shuffled closer to her, pushing the tips of your shoes against hers. – “It’s just us.” – you whispered to her. Eloise stared at your eyes. A pounding in her heart she was half familiar with. The way she was staring at you, made you bashful. Eloise’s gaze lowered to your lips. Before she fully knew it, she had moved her hand around your lower back, pressing her lips against yours.

The feeling was glorifying as Eloise’s lips kissed yours with more dominance. Demanding more of your kiss than she ever imagined. Your heart felt like exploding with fireworks. Your hands found a way to her, cupping her cheeks to kiss her more delicately. Her eagerness made you nearly fall back, tripping over the hem of your dress.

The sudden shift in balance broke the kiss off. Out of breath, you stared at each other. – “I never wanted a man. I just want you Eloise.” – you told her with a smile. – “I…” – Eloise responded not sure what to answer after that. Your eyes widened when Eloise grabbed you once more, going to steal another kiss from you. Her lips slowly retracted from yours, wanting to feel them for as long as possible.

“I…” – she smiled having to need no words. You smiled back at her, giving her hands a soft squeeze. Eloise let go of your hands, moving towards the door. By the door, she looked over her shoulder, furrowing her brows with softness. She ran back up to you, giving you one last desiring kiss before heading back out to face the ton.

Once Eloise had left, you twirled out of excitement. Eloise seemed to want to dive into this adventure with you. Have a life as spinsters where you could life in peace remotely away from the ton and just love each other. You left to return to the main room. Catching glances with Eloise from across the room.

It had been a few days almost to a week now since you saw Eloise. The next ball but three days away. At the promenade, you were enjoying some fresh air. Smiling at those who passed you from the other direction. The world couldn’t be better as you knew Eloise would be waiting for you. Share a life together and call her yours. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling by even thinking about it. Looking back up, your gaze caught Eloise. Freezing as she did the same.

Eyes widening at each other. Your gaze immediately gliding to the side to see Eloise with a man. – “Eloise.” – you called out in shock. Eloise smiled embarrassed, turning towards the man. – “Phillip can you give us a moment.” – she asked. Phillip bowed, walking further up to give Eloise and you some privacy. – “Eloise?” – you said confused as to why she was with a man.

“Y/n…” – Eloise spoke nervously. – “What is the meaning of this? Why are you promenading with a man?” – you accused her, utterly shocked as you thought she would keep to your arrangement. – “Y/n…” – Eloise spoke keeping her voice low. She reached her hand out to you, touching your hand.

“Are you calling it off? Why are you calling it off?” – you asked desperate, having a sense she was forcing herself to marry a man just to be accepted by society. – “You don’t understand Y/n!” – Eloise shouted pulling her hand back. It made you scoff shocked. – “Oh but I do. You don’t want to call it love. You want to stop the feeling, but for the world you could never!” – you told her. Supressing her feelings would not do her any good. – “Y/n please.” – Eloise begged reaching for you again. You moved your hand back so she couldn’t take it. – “Have it your way Eloise.” – you told her. Eloise blinked saddened.

You came a bit closer again to tell her the hard truth. – “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night. With your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife.” – you made clear. Eloise swallowed nervously at the harsh truth. – “And when you think about me, all of those years ago. You’re standing face to face with ‘I told you so’!” – you called out furiously.

Eloise stumbled a bit back, breathlessly at the shocking truth. You turned on your heel, walking off. – “Y/n! wait!” – Eloise called out coming after you. Coming to a firm stop, you spun around. – “I told you so!” – you warned her. Eloise’s shoulders slouched, defeated at her own doing. Phillip came at her side, touching her elbow as Eloise moved her elbow away. Not wanting his touch. The world slowly spinning around her, dizzily at the fool she has been, by not calling it love.

-----------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[infictionalwonderland]

Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)

(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)

“She’s here!”

The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.

You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.

You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.

(You were in love)

“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.

Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.

“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.

As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.

“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”

“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.

“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”

“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.

All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.

“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.

“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”

“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.

She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.

“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”

“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”

“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”

Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.

“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.

“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.

Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.

“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”

“I would like very much.”

You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.

“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”

“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.

Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.

She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.

“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.

“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.

“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“

“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.

He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.

The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.

Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.

“This—this is hardly—“

“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.

You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.

“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”

“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”

“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”

“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.

You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.

In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.

All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.

The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.

People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.

Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.

Eloise and You blinked.

“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.

The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.

When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.

“Besotted—?”

“Shut up!”

As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.

Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.

[lady-ashfade]

Eloise Bridgerton x reader! In which Eloise and the reader are friends and Eloise romantically likes the reader but is afraid to confess because she thinks she will be rejected (the reader likes her too, and sorry about the bad english, i'm using the translator 🥺)

Quite Telling

Eloise Bridgerton x Fem!reader

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 487

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: fluff and bit angst, pinning, short blurb.

-`｡ﾟ˘: ﾟ⋆ ––✷☽ ᱬ ☽✷––⋆ ﾟ: ˘ ﾟ｡.`-

Book’s often portray love as butterflies in your stomach, flattering body that gets weak when you see someone, and a high feeling. Eloise hated the books about love because she didn’t care for it, thinking it was all a lie.

And now she wished she read more.

How was she supposed to get over her feelings of being near you, or seeing your smile or hearing your laugh. The pain she felt from holding herself back from the urge to kissing you was horrible. All she could ever think about was you and she was becoming crazy.

“Dear, are you alright?” Violet asked her daughter who was lost in her thoughts, standing still at the window as rain poured down on the ground. Eloise snapped out of it and grabbed the book that was now in her lap back up and gave a reassuring smile.

“No need to worry, it’s just a beautiful day.” A mother knows much about her children and violet knew her daughter well. Eloise was often to push away when she was going through things. But she could push her to talk about it, so she just smiled and nodded her head.

Just as the sun rises and breakfast was done, the routine of visiting you for morning walks was the thing that woke her up. Her head went fussy when you grabbed ahold of her arm and her heart spiked like crazy.

“There isn’t much my mama has been telling me lately. Each gentleman walking up to door is all the same and non have half the wits they think themselves to have.” rolling your eyes annoyingly, Eloise laughs at your remark.

“Thank the heavens I have no callers, the one thing whistledown gave me was keeping them away.” you glance at her, there was still spite in her voice.

“It’s their lose anyway, you’re a Bridgerton. Pretty and smart sounds like a amazing catch.” you giggle. her cheeks flush red and look away at the compliment you gave her.

Pretty? You think she’s pretty and smart.

“Might I ask you something?” Her mouth speaks on its own before she could stop herself. you humming in agreement and focus on the ground as you walk. ears ready to hear.

could you ever love her? the lump in her throat tighten as her stomach dropped. all she wanted to do was confess or give you a hint. why was it so hard? she shouldn’t be afraid of it. but looking at you and the way the sun cased it’s golden light on you, the beautiful smile on your lips. she couldn’t find the courage.

“Purple?” the excuse didn’t work out as she wanted. you turn your head in confusion to what she meant.

she was a fool. “Purple or Blue? A dress for me tonight.”

“Purple, I like that color on you.”

then she shall wear it for the rest of her days.

𐀔 please don’t repost my fics on other websites. This is my writing. And I don’t own the characters just y/n.

[thetalkoftheton]

Benedict: So how long did Anthony ground you two for?

Eloise: Two weeks.

Y/N: 'One per idiot.'

[girlkisser13]

carriage sex with eloise bridgerton

pairings: eloise bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings/tags: smut (18+), fingering, oral sex (e receiving), cunnilingus, semi-public sex.

divider by @iwonbin

as soon as the carriage door closed behind the two of you, your lips found the front of her throat. it taking her by surprise when her head lulled back. her fingers laced through your locks, gently tugging when the flat of your tongue messily dragged over the blooming mark on her skin.

"eloise, i must have you now," you whine into her neck, pulling her chin toward you for a kiss. you can feel her soft tongue easing its way in, the sweet taste of eloise flooded your mouth— you moan sucking on her tongue and tangling your hands in her hair.

"y/n, we cannot do this here," she mumbled against your lips as you whined in protest.

"please, darling." you pout at her as you put your hand inside of her dress, rubbing softly at her clit.

she gasped as you pulled her closer to you, the gap between her back and the carriage wall getting smaller. your lips curled upwards in a smirk when her fingers locked around your shoulders, nails digging crescents into your skin. "should i stop?"

she shook her head so quickly that she nearly made herself dizzy.

you pushed her dress up, bunching the silky fabric onto the tops of her thighs, allowing you to spread her thighs further, creating a little nook for yourself between her legs. she felt the pads of your fingers tracing gentle circles into the hot flesh of her inner thighs, making her straighten her back.

you rubbed your thumb over her clit once more before tentatively bringing your tongue to replace it, only leaving the smallest licks. you could feel her shudder at how sensitive she was, the contact sending jolts through her body.

“a-ah! y/n,” you could tell that her mind was struggling to focus on anything other than you.

you hummed against her as you slipped a finger in, curling it and working it in and out of her slowly. in between the flicks of your tongue you would suck at her clit and she’d suck in a breath, fighting the urge to moan, in fear that the carriage driver would hear.

"you are breathtaking, my love," your voice was deep and low, drawing another needy whine from her. her sounds were intoxicating. every ounce of uncertainty was beginning to fade away every time you elicited one from her.

“y/n, i am close.”

you looked up at her and happened to catch her glancing down at you. the sight she saw, your tongue buried and eyes fluttering up at her was the tipping point. small moans left her lips as she wrapped her legs around your head, grinding against your face as she came down from her high.

letting out a shaky breath she lightly gripped your wrist and pulled you up so you that you were face to face, a drunk in love smile on her face.

"i am utterly and completely in love with you," she exclaimed breathlessly.

"and i you, miss bridgerton," you snorted, before finding her lips once more.

[margowritesthings]

Good Luck, Babe!

pairing: Eloise Bridgerton x f!reader word count: 2394 words listen along authors note: I don't know what came over me with this one- I NEVER write just angst but here it is I guess🥲🥲 I just felt like Chappell is so Eloise x reader coded. I hope you enjoy! As always, big thank you to @cowboydisaster for beta-ing💙

Dearest El,

I have departed London. As this letter will be arriving some weeks after I have departed London, and owing to your brilliant mind, I am sure you will have worked that out by now. I can only apologise for my disappearance and complete lack of correspondence, when Mama received word of Aunt Petunia’s illness, she made so much haste I barely had time to pack a quill. 

I hope with all my heart I can return to you soon. As much as the London season pains me, you bring the most incredible medicine in your company, one that I long to drink up every drop of.

As the atmosphere here in the country gets ever more mournful, the hope that I can soon be with you brightens. I feel so terribly guilty for not being as consumed by grief as the rest of my family, however I mourn every second missed by your side much more than a lifetime of a woman I never knew. 

My heart longs for more stolen moments soon,

Yours, always.

Meanwhile, at almost the exact same instant… 

My dear Miss Bridgerton,

We have been corresponding now for quite some time, and although we have never formally met, I feel as if I know you.

Forgive me if I am too bold, but I am writing to invite you to visit me. It is my hope that we might decide that we will suit, and you will consent to be my wife.

—Sir Phillip Crane

“A… A husband? You are engaged?!”

You can’t be sure you heard right for the rushing of blood in your ears and the shattering of your heart in your chest. A broken heart always sounded so metaphorical, fantastical imagery to describe an emotion. But this pain is so very real, and it hurts so badly it takes everything you have not to let your knees buckle beneath you. 

“Perhaps… we could discuss this in private?” Eloise says, and even though you see her lips moving in time to the words you hear, it doesn’t sound like her. Not the girl you grew up with, the woman you love with all your heart. Everything has changed, in all of 4 seconds. 

The pointed tone she yields makes you remember yourself, finding half a dozen other Bridgertons looking back at the two of you. There’s tension knitted between each of their brows, the resemblance in the family so striking when they’re all gazing at you with the exact same confused expression. You can’t blame them, it is a rather intense reaction for a young lady when she finds out her best friend is betrothed.

They could never know how much more you are.

How much you thought you were.

Eloise pulls at your arm, and you comply like wet clay between her fingers. The shock is really settling in your bones now, and your lip wobbles with emotion you cannot spend in front of her family. She guides you, and you’re soon both in the library, the heavy door shut and locked behind you.

Your first instinct is to resent her for bringing you here, of all places, to talk about this. This damned library, with more memories stuffed in it than books. Of stolen kisses between chapters, nervous confessions beside the fireplace, learning each and every secret the other holds in their mind, and every single inch of their body. This library was your sanctuary only months ago, and now Eloise has brought you in here to break your heart.

The silence hangs between you, Eloise’s blush lips parting and closing. You’ve never seen her like this, with so much sadness in her eyes it scares you. 

“I… I feared we had been discovered.”

You can’t argue that. It would have been the easiest explanation to come to, with what happened. One day, you’re in London in the middle of the social season, stealing away from balls to press your lover against Lady Trowbridge’s bookshelves and make her moan your name in just the way you like. The next, you’d disappeared without a trace. How was she to know the circumstances? It makes sense now, that she never wrote you back. She wasn��t even in London to receive your correspondence.

“You quit London with all your family, not a trace of you. Not even a mention in Whistledown, for God's sake. I was so worried that perhaps your Papa had discovered that we were… our secret,”

She can’t even say it aloud. 

“And that he’d shipped you off to the country. I thought we’d both be ruined and… I was scared. Scared that I had lost you and that-” 

“Scared that you had lost me and your first instinct was to marry somebody else?!” You spit, all the hurt you had to hide when the first blow hit in the drawing room rising to the surface. “You thought I had been carted off to the country and the first thing you do is find yourself a husband to save your own skin?!”

You’re being ugly and hurtful and you know it, but you’re hurting too. There’s a palpable pain all over, and it’s affecting your ability to hold onto your composure. 

But the way Eloise flinches at your rebuttal is all the more painful. In the candlelight, you spot the tear tracks down her cheeks, and it takes everything not to close the distance between you and swipe them away with your thumb. You’d kiss each cheek softly, feeling just how soft her skin is. Oh, how you’ve missed how soft her skin is… 

Your feet seem to work of their own accord for a moment, toes icing forward, but you pull yourself back, perch yourself on the desk to anchor you down. If you go to her now, you’re not sure you could ever let her go, and she has a fiancé now. 

“It wasn’t like that.” She admits, her voice so weak now. It feels so wrong, like the Earth should be hanging upside down. Even then, your El would cling on with a smile, but this is so much worse than that because she’s crumbling too. She takes a deep, steadying breath, but it does little good.

“I had been corresponding with him for a few months… I knew his wife, Marina, her and Colin were once betrothed and she… well, it does not signify. It was just a letter of condolence, but then he replied, and one thing led to another and you were gone and I didn’t know if you were coming back and-” She’s rambling, words tumbling from her lips and each one a deeper cut than the last and you just can’t listen to all the sordid details anymore.

“Do you love him?” You interrupt, your question asked if it is the most simple in the world when, really, it is anything but. Seconds seem to stretch to hours, Eloise choking on her words and fighting with herself to finally shake her head no.

“It is a marriage of convenience. Sir Phillip is a widower. He has children who need a mother and I… they need me.”

But I need you.

You could tell her that. You could lay your heart out, tell her her place is right here, next to you, but you’re terrified. The chance you have of walking away from this night with your heart in one piece and your soulmate by your side is dwindling by the second. You’re losing her, and the fear turns to ugliness. 

“And that is what you wish to be, now? His wife, their mother?” You spit the titles out as if they are a curse, “What about-”

“What about what? Growing old together as spinsters, those strange ladies who live together in the country and see nobody? The ones who not just ruined themselves with the scandal, but their entire families?! At least I can be his wife. I can be their mother. It’s legal, and accepted, and perhaps that has never mattered to me before, but you left, and I didn’t know when you were coming back and Phillip was there and offering me a place to go and and I… I had to be realistic. Stop living in this fantasy.”

The word ricochets inside you, cracking bones, puncturing organs and leaving you bleeding out in front of her. Fantasy. 

All those long hours reading together, discovering parts of the world nobody would teach two young ladies.

A fantasy.

Your first kiss, hidden from the heavens under the covers of a thunderstorm, discovering other things they’d never teach you.

A fantasy.

That first time, and the next, and the next, and every time after that, skin to skin, bodies so connected you couldn’t tell where one of you ended and the other began. 

Moaning each others names, decorations of love and passion and lust and everything in between tying you both together for what seemed like forever. 

The plans you had to escape to the countryside together, away from anybody who could ever keep you apart.

A fantasy A fantasy A fantasy

The feeling of absolute inadequacy starts to creep in, until you realise it isn’t you Eloise is giving up on, it’s her. 

“This isn’t who you are, El…” You whisper, all the energy and fury in your own words dying off. You’re devastated, not just for yourself, but because you know who Eloise Bridgerton is, and the woman in front of you is letting her down.

She meets your eye, and you do all you can not to lose yourself in those sad, grey pools that tell you everything her words are not. 

“What if it is? It is how every other woman is, is it not? Why should I be so different? What we do- what we did- isn’t how it is supposed to be done and you know it. It could have been nothing- a blip. What if… if I’m not actually like that and I just hadn’t…” The words die in her throat, and you know it’s because she doesn’t mean them. So much so you’re not even hurt by it. She feels just as you do, that tether between you just as tense on both ends, but denial is rearing its ugly head now, and you’re powerless to it.

Eloise takes in a deep breath, sighing it back out as if it will settle her nerves. But you see the way she tugs at her own fingernails, the way her feet shift every other second. She’s nervous. She’s lying, and you don’t know who’s benefit it is for. 

“You can say that we are nothing, but you and I both know the truth, Eloise. You would have to burn the world down for what is between us to cease.

One day, you will wake up in the dead of night and you will realise you are a wife to a man you do not love, a mother to children that are not yours. You will have walked into another woman’s life, a life you do not want, because you think that whatever this is between us will cease, that whatever resides inside of you will simply disappear… Eloise, I promise you now that it will not.

You’ll still love me, all those years from now, I swear to you that you will, and even if you don’t, there will be another but you know it will not be him… Please, El, I beg of you not to do this. Not just for me, but for you. Do not rob yourself of who you truly are because you are scared, please do not do this-”

You don’t know when you started crying, nor when you allowed yourself to finally close the distance between you and Eloise and grab hold of her hands as you beg for her life. She’s too limp in your grip, the fight burning in her already extinguished.

“It… It does not signify. I have already married him.” 

A final blow knocks you back a few paces, from the one you thought you knew so well.

The one you truly didn’t know at all. 

No, you knew your El. You knew Eloise Bridgerton, who had two sugars in her tea and fought harder than anyone else in London for what she believed in. 

You do not know Eloise Crane. 

Not one bit.

“I see.” You choke on the two little repeated syllables, packing thousands more into their subtext. Weaving in the pain and betrayal, wrapping them around the confession that even after all this, you still love her. Maybe she finds those secrets in your short sentence, it’s impossible to tell with this faux composure she’s clinging onto. 

“It all moved so quickly. He asked me to visit him, and my brothers… Well, you know how they are. They believed he compromised me, so we… I… I am sorry. Truly, I never meant to hurt you… It all got away from me.” There’s a weakness in her final sentence that leads you to think perhaps Eloise didn't have much of a say in the matter at all. It makes you angry, furious that these men who claim to love her, her own family, would steal away her future like this. Would steal her away from you.

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to storm up to Anthony Bridgerton and give him a piece of your mind, but El is right. None of it signifies anymore, because the deed is done. 

Eloise Crane will live the rest of her life within a lie.

And so, it seems, will you. 

She’s openly sobbing now, the two paces backwards you took in the aftershock feeling like miles and miles now. 

“I’m so sorry…” 

And then, so quiet you could have missed it for your own heartbeat,

“I love you.”

It feels as natural as breathing to say it back. You have done, thousands of times. From written into letters left hidden under pillows to moaned voices in each other's ears.

This time, though, the words get stuck. They mutate, catching all that pain build up inside you on their way out and becoming bitter. 

“I wish you the very best of luck with your new family, Lady Crane.”

You try not to look back, but it is awfully difficult.

[hiatuswhore]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃

♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.

♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.

♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K

♕ WARNINGS: None

previous — Masterlist — next

BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.

Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.

“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”

“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.

”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.

”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.

”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”

”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”

“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.

“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for

her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”

Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”

”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.

Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”

“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.

You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”

”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.

“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.

“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.

Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.

Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”

”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.

Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”

“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”

”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”

“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.

“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”

At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.

“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”

You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.

It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.

“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”

“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.

“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.

“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.

“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.

“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”

Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”

”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”

Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.

You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.

Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.

Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.

“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.

A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.

Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.

“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.

Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.

“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.

”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“

“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”

“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.

“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.

“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.

“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.

“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”

”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”

”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.

“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.

“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.

“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.

“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.

”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.

“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.

“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.

After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”

“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.

”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.

“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”

”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.

“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.

“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to

be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.

“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.

“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.

“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.

“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”

Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”

You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.

Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.

Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.

”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.

Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”

“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.

“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”

Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”

Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.

“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”

”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.

“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”

”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”

You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”

”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.

A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”

”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.

“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.

“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.

The violins.

The flowers.

The gossip eager Ton.

The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”

“And I, with my best friend.”

You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.

A smudge on both of your reputations.

[nnightskiess]

𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮...

₊° - 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧!𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

₊° - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the first preparations for the new season start, Elladine is filled with dread at the prospect of having to enter the beau monde and say goodbye to her childhood to welcome in the world of London's high society.

(this story goes slightly off-canon to fit the storyline)

masterlist (soon), read the introduction that started it all

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

My dearest gentle readers, a new flock of eagerly anticipating young women, yearning to make an impression on the Ton, will soon step foot and enter the world of the beau monde, hopefully tightly clutching the arms of their new husbands in a few weeks time. Reflecting on the last two seasons, this author will wait patiently to see if Dowager Viscountess Violet Bridgerton will succeed once more in finding one of her children a suitable match. The bar certainly is set high, seeing as her first daughter landed the attention of both a Duke and a Prince during her debut season and her firstborn seems as happy as ever. Will she succeed, or will she have to vie for a lord to pay attention to her daughters like Lady Featherington has done for years? And will Miss Featherington ever be freed from the horrible clothing she is put in? I, dear readers, surely cannot wait to see what this season has in store for us. I will watch with a keen eye to see how well our favourite Viscount and his Viscountess have fared over the year. I eagerly await their return to the beau monde now that they have to find Miss Eloise and, how else, following the Bridgerton’s alphabetic name tradition, her twin sister Miss Elladine, a husband. Exciting times, my dearest readers, but we can only sit tight and wait until the first ball of the season, where we will be shown exactly what kind of year this will shape to be. This author will keep her eyes and ears open to all that will happen in our beloved Ton.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, APRIL 1816

Violet exhaled sharply through her nose when she read the words on the small pamphlet in her hands. The season hadn’t even started, and yet, Lady Whistledown had managed to speak of her and her family already. She had ploughed her way through the rumours and ill words directed to her, her family and her children once with Daphne’s debut, then again with the debacle Anthony had put himself in, but she already held her breath for the kind of things Eloise and Elladine would manage to get themselves into. Knowing her daughters well, she knew something was bound to happen. For now, she worried more about Eloise than Elladine. Although her precious daughters were both equal head-and-heart girls, they still held the fire each Bridgerton had, and they had been raised by one strong woman, not to forget. They had been less willing to bend and mend to the standards of the beau monde than she had hoped, and although at times it gave her evenings full of headache, she could not help but love the strength in her daughter’s characters. Eloise had made it clear time and time again, even before it had been her time to debut, how much she detested the prospect of what would be asked of her, the prospect of not having a choice in the matter either. She'd started throwing fusses whenever the subject had come up, she'd been blatantly rude to avoid having to talk to any man wanting a chat and she had even gone as far to escape social occasions more than once. Where Eloise’s protest had been loud and clear, Elladine’s true feelings about having to find herself a man had been less outspoken. Each time the subject would be brought up, she would visibly recoil and turn quiet, her eyes filling with a glassy melancholic look, the light in them no longer there. She had worn the dresses, learned the customaries and the dances and even done her best to entertain any man wanting to talk or dance with her, but Violet could see the intent was not there. Violet had then vowed to find a perfect suitor to make the light in her daughter’s eyes return again, to have her shine as bright as she deserved. She knew it was possible, as she’d seen it happen to Daphne and Anthony. There was a person for everyone out there, Elladine would be no exception. She deserved to know how euphoric love could be and Violet was going to help her daughter realise that.

“Has she written about our ridiculous order of names again, mama?” Elladine sighed from behind the easel, eyes not leaving her canvas.

“Of course, it is only tradition,” Eloise teased, knowing exactly how the famed writer usually picked her words. She stopped flitting through her book and sat up to watch her twin sister focus on the canvas before her.

Despite being born mere minutes apart, the two couldn’t look more different from each other. Sure, they both had the thick familiar chestnut Bridgerton hair and the same soft button nose, but they differed in the rest. Where Eloise’s eyes were an earthy green, Elladine’s eyes were as sharp and light blue as those of her mother. No matter if a room was lit by merely a handful of candles or if she stood outside on Grosvenor Square in the harsh sunlight, her eyes would always be a strikingly aquamarine. Her doe eyes had been one of her most adorable features when she had been young, and they made many a head turn ever since she’d turned of age.

“She is getting rather boring and repetitive lately, don’t you think?” Eloise shrugged, not realising the foreboding irony her words would hold in a few weeks.

Violet’s head immediately snapped up, “Do not give the Lord any ideas on how to enliven her ridiculous paper.”

“Fine, I take it back.” Eloise softly muttered under her breath as she looked up to the ceiling in exasperation, where a group of painted angels draped around vines stared down at her. 

Now it was Elladine’s time to snort as she looked at her sister while smoothing out a thick blob of paint on her canvas. It was supposed to be the start of a bush full of red camellia, the flower that represented the painful yearning for love, something she had learned in a book from their library. She often looked for inspiration there, seeing as it was hard for her to venture out into the world as a young aristocratic woman, to experience things herself. 

Their head of servants announced himself as he stepped into the drawing-room, “I have post for Lady Eloise and Lady Elladine,” He announced and carefully placed the two ivory envelopes on the table before taking his leave.

“It’s from Daphne,” Violet announced after seeing their names scribbled onto the paper in her daughter's familiar curly handwriting.

Elladine’s ears perked up at the mention of her oldest sister. Daphne had been their rock after their father had passed and their mother had isolated in her grief for a while. Like a true big sister, she had stepped up wherever she could, consoled the little ones, taken care of them with the help of the maids, let them cuddle up to her in bed and helped distract them together with Colin by playing music and putting on silly performances for the little ones in their drawing room. Daphne had been an everpresent tangible anchor for Elladine, something to ground her and help her practice her resilience in hard times with kind affirmations. The day Daphne had left the Bridgerton house, had been one of the worst days so far, together with her father passing. And, well... maybe also when that dreaded letter had arrived to invite her for her debut. Elladine had looked up to Dapne all her life until her oldest sister had seemed so content being married off to a mere stranger and seeming to love the prospect of being a doting wife— all the things that made Elladine’s skin itch. 

“Ella, dear, do wipe your hands before you come and open it.” Her mother pointed at the green and white smears of paint scattered on her palms. Despite being elegant most times, when she was painting, she no longer seemed to care about making a mess as she let her creativity take over.

Elladine held her hands away from her dress and quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe them off, knowing she would likely lose her head if her mother caught her with paint on one of her newest dresses.

“You know, I think your dress is a bit too maiden-white, a bit of green would liven it up.” Eloise grinned to her sister and plucked the envelope out of her mother's hands.

The two sisters exchanged a knowing grin, especially when they saw their mother’s head shoot up at the suggestion. It had always been a bit like that— Eloise being the instigator and Elladine joining close in pursuit. But where Eloise had chaos rumbling closely beneath her chest, Elladine was usually more collected and aware of situations and repercussions. Elladine would let her thoughts ponder before letting them out, but Eloise had always been good at blurting out the next best thing on her mind. Even that simple knowledge was why Violet had known since childhood that Eloise would be the biggest handful. Then again, where Eloise went, Elladine followed, what Elladine did, Eloise wanted to do, and vice versa. They’d been like this ever since birth, as was only normal for twin sisters, Violet had presumed. She adored it, though. But now, Lady Whistledown had mockingly practically placed them on the highest pedestal for all the Ton to watch and observe this season. Violet started to fan her face even thinking about what was to come and how her daughters would fare with that much attention on them...especially knowing how much they hated it.

Elladine excitedly snatched the letter away, tore the Duke’s seal apart and hastily opened the letter. The twins quickly let their eyes scan across the parchment.

“Ah, it’s one of those.” Eloise spoke with a mouth full of distaste. 

“Whatever are you talking about?” Elladine tried to take a peek at her sister’s letter, confused, as her letter had started off kindly with words about her nephew and the news of a renovation project of their estate.

Eloise rolled her eyes, “At least that means she did not just plainly copy them.”

“She wouldn’t, she knows us too well to realise we would open and read them together.”

“Well, what did she write?” Violet watched the two, a fondness in her eyes, something that would always be present whenever she looked at her twins. To be blessed with one child was one thing, but to be blessed with two at once was something else entirely. And to have nine healthy children in total had simply been the greatest gift on the planet.

“That she wishes us a splendid season and that she hopes we will find our life as married women accommodating and that we will walk off into the sunset with the second best man we can find.”

“She did no such thing-” Violet all but tried to snatch the letter out of Eloise’s hands. At the mention of her older sister’s supposed well-wishes for their debut, Elladine fell quiet once more, like she had done so plenty of times already when the subject had been brought up. She didn’t want to read the rest of her letter anymore, afraid Daphne's sentences would eventually lead to the one thing she tried to forget about.

“I would rather become a spinster than ever make my debut.” Elladine snarked, voicing her disinterest out loud for once as she fumbled the letter back into its envelope and discarded it on the table with little care.

Violet looked at her through squinted eyes, “I don’t like your tone, Elladine.” 

She withheld an eye roll at her mother’s usual reply whenever one of her children went a little out of line. But while she would have giggled or grinned at it on any other occasion, it made her look at the floor and let her shoulders fall. Her mother was right. Daphne had written a kind letter in support of her debut that was fast approaching, probably knowing very well how her little sister was feeling and trying her best to help her lift her spirits, and Elladine hadn't even taken the time to read it through to the end.

“I know it is a prospect you do not feel anything for, but know that all I wish for you is to be loved, adored and cared for. You two deserve to live as happy as I have. I won’t be around forever, and I do not wish you to be alone when I'm gone.” Although her words were soft-spoken and well-meant, her two bad-humoured daughters standing before her could not yet appreciate the intent of her words.

“Oh, we won’t be alone. We’ll have each other.” Eloise linked arms with Elladine, giving her a conspiratorial grin, “First, we will go to University, to hell with those small-minded egotistical men who think it is no place for us. Then we will travel the world and inspire other like-minded women to break free from their shackles. Then we'll make a fortune and settle down somewhere and spend our days writing and making music." Her eyes had a playful glint to them before she turned serious and sighed in vexation, "We do not wish to be married, we will have each other, Mama.”

Elladine pulled her arm away from Eloise, “That’s what you want, why does it always have to be what you want?"

Violet's fingers fell to pinch the bridge of her nose. No matter how well her twins went along, they could bicker like an elderly couple over who would take the last scone. Those quarrels generally barely ever lasted longer than a minute, though.

"I thought we wanted the same thing?!" Eloise huffed, "What do you want?" Eloise softened upon seeing the distant look in her sister's eyes, "Teaching children how to play and read music, that was what you once said, right?"

Elladine fell silent, she realised she hadn't really dared to dream of her future when the only future she thought she could have, would be one she hated. And what kind of self-torture would it be to allow herself to daydream of a life she could never get anyway?

Even if it had been only momentarily, she could feel herself slip away into her worries again. She swallowed, "Um, I suppose so. I want to paint and play music... share that joy with others... upkeep my own garden and live somewhere far away without the rules and obligations of the Ton and..." Her large inhale made her chest double in size and her dress pushed back in protest before she let the breath escape in a sigh, "-to just be me.”

Eloise scrunched up her nose at that, ready to butt in and voice how boring it sounded compared to her ideal life.

“Girls.” Violet’s tone was a message in itself, but Elladine took it to heart and huffed before leaving the salon, ignoring the pleas of her mother to settle the matter and make amends. She headed directly to the greenhouse at the edge of their estate, knowing her mother would never follow her there. It was the one place that had her father written all over it, the one place too painful for her mother to step foot in. Edmund, with his love for nature, had always complained about the lack thereof in the city of London. So, with the help of a flock of gardeners, he'd set up a gigantic greenhouse near the edge of their garden, tucked behind a large chestnut tree. The same one he'd take the children to each Fall to collect chestnuts and help them with their crafts to turn their collected chestnuts into spiders, stick figures or other figurines. The greenhouse was more of a fancy conservatory from the outside, but when it was time to plant a plethora of flower bulbs, it was a combined mess of dirt, tools, pots of fertilisers and waste of the flowers from the previous season. And her father would often be there, right in the centre of it all. It was the place where he would teach them about herbs, tell them about certain medical properties of a few of them, let them rub their tiny fingers over leaves to smell them and where he could pretend he wasn't trying to run away from the pile of papers waiting for him on his desk.

Elladine strode across the garden with haste to make it there in time so that her tears could finally fall. God forbid she let them fall outside in the world where she could no longer feel her father's safe embrace, albeit figuratively.

Even if Eloise was the only one who could ever get remotely close to understanding how she felt, she still would never get it. No one would. The conversation she'd just had only further proved her point. Elladine wasn’t opposed to being loved, adored and cared for, to not be alone but to live with her person by her side, it was just… Well, what was it exactly? Why was there such a big push and pull whenever she thought of love? Why was something inside of her so opposed to the entire idea when she should feel happy and have some healthy nerves, like all the other girls starting their debut? And why, at the same time, could she not stop daydreaming about her perfect someone out there, right now, hopefully thinking about her as well?

She balled her fists when she felt the familiar ache in her heart that no one would ever understand. Hells, she wasn’t even sure if she would ever understand the reason behind the pulling heartache. It wasn't like she could ask her family about it either, no matter how close they were. No, this felt like something she had to battle by herself.

Elladine walked over the the circular space in the right wing of the greenhouse. Ivy had covered most of the glass after Edmund hadn't been there to care for it, and while Violet did hire gardeners to plant new flowers every year, that was about the only thing she let them do. They weren't to take out Edmund's old flowers to plant new ones, or rearrange the pattern of different coloured tulips he'd carefully planted. But she hadn't let the entire greenhouse go forgotten.

In the circular open space, stood a vacated easel next to a bench, something she'd made sure was brought there after the entire family had lost Elladine for almost a whole day. No one had thought to look in the greenhouse now that Edmund was no longer among them. Francesca had found her older sister there after wandering outside for the third time, knowing they shared a love for quietness and having a gut feeling she'd been close to finding her before. With red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, a young Elladine had accepted her sister's gentle embrace as Francesca had tucked her into her side and brought her back to the house. Upon hearing Elladine's teary mumbles, Violine's stomach dropped when she realised the child had worried they had forgotten about their father since everyone seemed to steer clear of talking about him and, when they did, they had turned quiet. Even if Elladine had only been young, she'd been observant, and she'd seen what she thought was visible proof of her fear of his remembrance in the abandonment of her father's conservatory. After that, Violet had vowed to keep it as well-kept as she could, and had let Elladine claim it as her safe space.

Edmund's death had taken a toll on the entire family, plaguing each of her children and herself in a different way. Some turned rebellious, others had turned stoic, others had acted as if nothing had happened at all, but Elladine would often disappear. Well, it wasn't so much disappearing now that they knew where she was, especially as they could hear her music echo through the garden, but it was worrying nonetheless. Violet had tried multiple things to lure her out, but it wasn't until she'd seen her daughter try and tend to Edmund's indoor garden with the few rusty tools that still lay around, that she had made the decision. Violet had bought new tools, new fertiliser, new bulbs and seeds from all over and had tried her best to make the space that was once her husband's, as accommodating to her daughter as she could. If she could tend to her daughter's heartbreak that way, then she would do it.

Elladine had loved watching the gardeners get to work and she'd sat around them the entire week they were over, carefully watching their every move with interest. When one of the men had glanced at her over his shoulder, with a soft smile on his face, he'd beckoned her to him and had placed a bulb in her hands. 'Tulips', he'd said, 'from Holland'. It had seemed to be the three magic words she'd needed, because she had gotten onto her knees and pushed it into the soil, not caring that dirt had gotten stuck under her fingernails. It felt a little defying, to get dirty and get on her knees to knee through the dirt, something unflattering for a lady, but it had felt freeing all the same. But most of all, she'd never felt as close to her father as that day. Their home on Grosvenor Square, in the middle of Mayfair and in the heart of London, wasn't surrounded by much nature for Elladine to ease her heart and soul. The greenhouse was her sanctuary, the only place where she could hide and recharge and be completely by herself, aside from the occasional but welcome visit of one of her siblings. It was her escape when her thoughts became a little too overwhelming. Well, she also loved to furiously paint away with no clear vision in mind or play sonata upon sonata on her violin until the strings left painful marks on her fingers, so long that it drove everyone mad, but those weren’t options when all she wanted and needed to do was to flee their home. Sometimes she wished she was a simple girl who didn’t need a chaperone to accompany her whenever she wanted to step so much as even one foot out the door. It was just the life she was born into, and unfortunately for Elladine, that meant she had to make the biggest sacrifice of her life— to give up her life’s true happiness and be wedded off like cattle like any other aristocratic girl, just to appease their so beloved Ton.

Elladine grabbed a pair of garden clippers and went to the bush of lilac that, after all these years, had climbed its way up to the top of the greenhouse. As soon as she cut a few branches off, a welcome smell whirled around her. She hoped that taking care of her flowers would soothe the fast hammering of her heart against her chest. She was so angry, furious even, as she clipped away, but it was nothing the flowers could do anything about. She let the flowers fall into the basket on the side, trying to imagine them and their smell in her room within a few hours, but even that did not seem to make the tension in her body vanish.

Elladine didn’t care about dirtying her dress, and in protest even smeared the dirt and dust down her sides to clean her hands. Her mother would be furious, but so was she. It would be a fair exchange. And maybe, if she didn't have any dresses to wear, she could hide in her room some more. At least Eloise was an expert in openly speaking her mind, even having done so in front of the Queen last season, but Elladine didn’t have that type of forthright bravery. She often went about things a little more discreet. Instead, she showed her disdain on the matter through actions instead of Eloise's blurted words, and more often than not rebelled in ways that made her brothers chuckle and her mother sigh. Though Violet loved how all her children had a mind and character of their own, she also disliked how that meant they only influenced one another in that regard. Elladine was to be a fine example for her younger siblings, as Daphne had been for her- well, to a certain extent- she knew that, but it was so hard when her heart and her life were on the line.

The door behind her creaked open, and a soft breeze made its way into the greenhouse.

“I would have preferred green above brown, but it’s a nice touch anyway.” Eloise pointed at the streaks of earthy dust on her sister's dress and approached, albeit hesitantly. She seemed embarrassed, a little nervous even, wringing her hands like she hoped the apology she'd thought of would land well.

Eloise would never immediately outright apologise, despite being so fiercely outspoken. Still, she knew she had hurt her sister, even if she hadn’t known the true depths of her words. 

When no reply followed from her sister, Eloise shrunk, “I apologise… for putting words in your mouth… again.”

Elladine's fingertips softly brushed against a deep red rose to their left. It was truly impressive how her sister had made the space come to life with newly picked-out flowers and herbs, while still maintaining the feel of their father's touch all around them.

“Ella?”

The girl beside her sighed. There was one thing Eloise and Elladine were good at besides complementing each other— making up after a fight. Even if their fights were never really fights, only mere bickers or a couple of eye rolls after a disagreement- because yes, those did happen often- they could never be mad at each other for more than an hour. 

“I’m not mad at you.”

Eloise let out a visible sigh and her posture relaxed immediately. Elladine didn’t have to speak it out loud, for Eloise knew perfectly well what her sister was truly mad at. 

“I know Daphne means well, but it just upsets me so.”

“She does. And I know it does.” Eloise nodded, knowing their older sister held them in her highest regard and would never write the things she had just to spite them or remind them of their awaiting hell.

“Why is it so hard for people to realise that their dream isn’t ours? Far from it, actually.”

“It’s the patriarchy that's keeping us bound, I am telling you.”

Elladine gave her sister a look. Not unkindly, she muttered, “It’s always the patriarchy in your eyes, El.”

“Because... it just always is!” Eloise spluttered, "They have spoken their beliefs and spread them like an epidemic, and now the world knows no better than the way it is! Look-” She pulled her sister away from the bush so her attention was solely focused on her, “We will just… stick together. Through it all. I promise to not walk out on you even if I would rather watch paint dry than spend one second at one of those balls.” Eloise grinned when she saw her sister’s expression soften. 

“Watching paint dry is sometimes a necessary trajectory of painting," Elladine matched her twin's grin, showing Eloise that whatever had been said before, had been forgotten.

But Eloise needed Elladine to know the severity of her words. She grabbed her hands into her own and squeezed, "I will even agree to burp at least once each night to scare off any onlooker wanting to take us for a dance. I'll.... I'll smother my face in cake to keep them at bay... I'll embarrass myself so badly that they won't even want to approach you simply by association.”

Elladine softly shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, “No, El, you know it would hurt mama. And taint our name. Again.”

Eloise turned quiet, and then her eyes glossed over, something she rarely found herself doing anymore, “But else it would hurt you.”

The twins looked at one another. So much was said in the exchange of their soft stares and the squeezing of their hands, that words weren't necessary. It was them, together, from the beginning until the end.

Eloise let her mind wander to her future for a split second. Of a married life to some Lord or Sir far away... far away from Elladine. Never spending time together anymore, not having someone around who she could tolerate even during her darkest moods, no longer giggling behind their hands at one of their secret jokes, not having someone there who could read the thought in her eyes before it had even transpired, and no longer feeling part of something that she had been one half of ever since she was born. Feeling herself get too vulnerable and choked up, Eloise suddenly cracked a laugh, “Of course, I also can’t imagine a life without you by my side, and marrying means we would not see each other for long periods of time.”

“Ah, so in the end, it’s an entirely selfish reason?”

“It appears so.” 

They grinned at each other with innocent mischief in their eyes. Elladine wiped the lone tear from her nose that she hadn’t realised had fallen from her eye until it had tickled her. 

“Although you will have to face Mama on your own or she will likely blame me for that hideous stain on your dress.”

“I thought you liked it?”

“Meh.”

Elladine made a face at her as Eloise pulled her out of the greenhouse and gave her an encouraging push towards the house. 

“She’s still in the drawing room.” Eloise spoke from behind her, "But mind you, she's been pacing ever since you left. I'll be at Pen's until I'm certain her mood's subsided." She nodded to herself, seeming content, before quickly taking her leave and disappearing behind the hedge that hid the garden gates.

With her head held high, Elladine entered the drawing room again minutes later. She was never one to admit defeat easily, nor show her true emotions. She couldn’t afford to show what was truly within, not if she wanted to stop her mother from worrying. She already had too many children to worry about. And even if she didn't have to worry about Daphne and Anthony anymore, Elladine knew she still would. It was a mother's curse. To worry even when things are all right. Being a mother was not something temporary, nor was the feeling of responsibility over them or their happiness.

Violet stood with Daphne’s letter behind the canvas when Elladine approached, taking in the swipes and colours she'd painted on there mere moments before. Violet looked up and smiled softly at her daughter when the door opened, and opened her arms,

“Elladine, come, my dear.”

Elladine walked over and let herself get pulled into her mother’s safe embrace, the place that could always comfort her.

Violet knew of her daughter’s variety of talents, as she had been the one behind the pursuit of most of them, but the vision of this current project was lost on her. She tried her best to mask her confusion when she spoke, “Do tell me what your newest painting will be?”

“It will be a field filled with camellias, like the ones back at Aubrey Hall during summer.” Violet’s eyes twinkled and the apples of her cheeks lifted up into a warm smile at the memory of the place where she spent some of her happiest memories with her husband, until it had become the place of his demise. At least she could separate the two sentiments after all this time. Elladine continued, “I found an encyclopaedia in the library and used reference pictures, since I didn't have space for them to plant them here this season, and I haven't studied them enough last summer to go off memory.” Knowing what conversation was to come next, Elladine quickly continued talking, “I shall clean up now. I don’t think I will be able to put much more work in before dinner anyway.” Not knowing what to say next, she peered at the letter in her mother’s hands. Daphne’s letter to her. “She said that Auggie’s speaking his first few words. Daphne thinks he might even be able to say the first part of my name next time he brings him around... since my full name has three syllables and that might be a little too difficult for now.”

Violet smiled kindly, but knew her daughter was stalling. She pulled the both of them on the couch, “It will be lovely, and I'm sure Auggie will learn to say your name within the blink of an eye. Come, sit.” But then she gasped when she saw the ruined dress come into view.

“Elladine Bridgerton-” She started, knowing very well that this was another one of her rebellious outbursts.

“I went to the conservatory. The lilac bush is beautiful.” Was all Elladine said, downplaying her actions with innocence.

Violet held the bridge of her nose. Her children were a handful, but she couldn’t deny that she loved every second of still having them around.

“No matter, we’ll talk of this later, but first I want to talk about something else. It’s been inevitable.”

“Do we have to, mama?” Elladine whined softly and sat back in the couch.

“It is important I tell you this, my love.”

Elladine looked at her, but her eyes held a certain kind of rebellious spirit in them that Violet couldn’t help but grin at— she often recognised her younger self in her daughter. She pushed a fallen lock of hair behind her daughter's ear before lovingly cupping her cheeks, 

“You are my everything, Elladine, all nine of you have my whole heart, which is why it is so deeply important for me to know you will be fine should I no longer be around, to see you happy, to rest assured knowing you are taken care of, that you are adored and loved.”

Elladine opened her mouth to say something, but Violet gave her a look to let her continue,

“Your protests haven’t gone unnoticed, but don’t you ever for a second think that I am willingly putting you through what you see as pure torment.” Violet grazed her daughter’s cheeks with her thumbs before dropping her hands back to her lap. So young, so innocent, yet so full of fire, determination and bravery, despite not having a single clue of the real world out there. Her children were growing up, but she couldn’t help but realise that even if the Ton found them the right age, they weren't ready yet. She too hated how her children couldn’t slowly learn to live their lives and then stumble upon their great love along the way, instead of having to find a match with the pressure of the society weighing them down. But that was just the way it was, how it always had been, and how she had found her dear Edmund as well. Their offspring were visible proof that it was possible. Violet had managed to get Eloise to debut the year before, because, in her daughter’s words, it was best to just get it done and over with. Elladine had refused to hear anything about it then, rejecting Eloise's plea to take the plunge together in such a dramatic way, that she'd fallen bedridden with a horrible flu for a week. But even Elladine now knew it had to happen eventually. And, if Violet waited too long to let Elladine debut, she knew her daughter's chances would grow slimmer each year they'd stall. She was nine-and-ten now, her twentieth fast approaching at the end of April. No, Elladine's debut this year was inevitable. There was no other option, but maybe she could slowly ease her way into the Ton. Maybe her perfect husband would find his way to her in her second season after her debut, or the third, maybe even the fourth. Whichever year it happened, Violet hoped Elladine would soon be more at peace and grow into her role of an aristocratic lady. At least her twins would have each other this year, although that also worried her immensely. 

“I know it’s scary and I know you feel pushed into a corner, but I can assure you that one day, someone will come knocking on your door and you will want to let them in. Someone who knows the strings of your heart and who'll want to listen or create harmony together. But don’t fear, my love, I found your father, Anthony found his lovely Kate and Daphne found her doting Simon. You will find your happy ever after as well with a husband made just for you, I can assure you.”

Elladine was silent for a while, letting her mother’s words hit and giving them a place in her head, “But I don’t want to, mama.”

In that moment, with the slight quiver of her lips, furrowed brows and big blues looking up at her, Violet couldn’t help but see a four-year-old Elladine sit in front of her, hands clawing at her mother to not leave her in her cot for a nap.

She pulled her in her arms and planted a kiss on her daughter’s hair, “Oh, my darling girl.”

The disappearance of the light in Elladine’s eyes as of late hadn’t gone unnoticed, and neither had the mood shifts and her rebellious behaviour, but Violet made herself a promise then and there, that she would do everything to ensure her daughter’s happiness. After all, there was a perfect person out there for everyone.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

“Miss Elladine?” Her maid entered her bedroom, where Elladine had been playing her violin for three hours straight up until this interruption. The London weather had shifted, as it always did, and the constant unrelenting force of rain pelting against the glass of the greenhouse had made it hard to hear her music over the noise. And so, she'd moved to her bedroom. She was grateful that her family had let her this time around. The weather had cleared after the first hour already and rays of sun had fallen through her curtains, but she'd been so engrossed in her current piece, that she didn't want to cut her focus and go back outside. “Pardon me, but your friend Lady Lillian is here.”

Elladine dropped the violin to her lap. She knew Lillian would never visit on a Wednesday afternoon, for she would always take a stroll with her siblings through Kensington Gardens. This had her mother written all over. 

“There she is.” Lillian’s voice echoed through the Bridgerton hall as Elladine walked down the stairs to her best friend. Although Eloise and Elladine were as thick as thieves, they did not share the same friends. Where Eloise had found a friend in their neighbour Penelope, happily chatting about the latest books they'd read, Elladine had gravitated towards Lillian, whose mother was a close friend of Violet. They were close in age, with Lillian just two years older than herself. Lillian had long undergone the first steps into the Ton and had married during her first season. Now she happily lived with her lord husband in Kensington, together with their two pomeranians and their newborn son. Lillian had flourished from a young, insecure girl into a woman of status. Though she didn’t quite grasp what there wasn’t to love about marrying a loving lord and having his children, she did feel sympathy whenever she saw how deeply Elladine was affected by it all. 

“I feel like we should make use of the few rays of sun and take a nice stroll around Hyde Park, do you not?” She grasped her friend’s hands and gave them an encouraging squeeze, trying to turn Elladine’s frown upside down.

“But what of your family?”

Lillian only waved her off, “They see me all day long, having to miss me for an hour or two should not be the end of the world. Besides, I want to steal you away one last time before all the bachelors of the Ton will.”

Elladine gave her a look which Lillian brushed off by dragging her friend outside, their two maids following suit as they walked onto Grosvenor Square. The sunlight blinded Elladine, and the sudden hustle and bustle of the street rammed into her head like a carriage. Lillian had her arm linked with hers within a second as she led the two west, to Hyde Park, where it would no doubt be swarming now that the sun was out. 

“Did Mama write to you this week?” Elladine wondered, looking up at her friend to gauge her reaction. Lillian only side-eyed her, her face unreadable, before her eyebrows dropped and a guilty expression took over.

“You know I cannot lie to you. Yes, she did.”

Elladine groaned, “About how pathetic I have been lately, I’m sure.”

Lillian laughed, “Well, she used kinder words, but yes. She did mention you might need some fresh air or go for an afternoon tea with a friend. And I think she might have been right.” 

Elladine gasped at her friend’s jest and bumped her hip, almost making Lillian collide with the nearest bystander. They both started grinning as the old man dipped his hat in recognition of the giggling girls. 

“How’s little Oliver?”

“Growing heavy, but very healthy.” 

"I'm sure the two are one and the same."

"You say that now, wait until he grows out a fattening belly and rips through all his clothes."

They came to a stop on Park Lane, letting the carriages pass through before crossing the curb and entering Hyde Park.

Lillian continued, eyes flitting across the many women walking with their young children or pushing their strollers, “It’s all going so fast. It feels like it was ages ago when we were only young girls."

"We still are." Elladine quietly muttered but kept further thoughts to herself when she saw the dreamy look on her friend's face when Lillian eyed a family of six walking by.

"I hope I'll be blessed with a big family one day.” Lillian glanced at her, chuckling, "Maybe not as big as yours, I'm not sure my husband could handle such chaos. As soon as Ollie starts throwing a fuss, he leaves the room and lets the maids tend to him." Lillian chuckled, but she quieted down at her own confession.

Elladine patted her friend’s hand and tugged her closer, not knowing how else to comfort her than with some well-meant words, “You are a wonderful mother, and I’m sure you will be blessed with more healthy heavy children in the future.”

A wickedly broad smile took over Lillian’s face as she pulled Elladine back to come to a stop. Elladine eyed her friend, confused, then watched as Lillian slowly rested her hands on her belly. 

Elladine stopped and gaped at her like a fish, her look mixed with shock, fear and glee.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Perplexed, Elladine put her hands to her mouth. Lillian laughed and let herself be wrapped in her friend's arms.

“But Ollie is merely a few months old!”

“I know! We’re both over the moon we got blessed so soon again! Best to be blessed now than when I'm old enough to have the extra baby weight be stored to my waistline,” She joked, keeping the conversation light, desperately wanting to stray away from the topic of how it was possible, since she'd seen the confusion and fear in Elladine's eyes the second it had appeared.

“Lillian!” Elladine gasped again, head still not fully registering it all, “But how... so quickly again? My siblings and I are all at least a year apart.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” Lillian sighed, knowing Elladine would find out on her own one day, "It is a woman's wonder!" She only said as she hooked her arm around Elladine's again and continued their stroll, their maids still following along behind them, chaperoning them. But Elladine was still stuck on her friend's words. The term of endearment had felt patronising in a way, and it had made her feel too stupid to continue their conversation on the matter and risk making an even bigger fool of herself.

They walked for half an hour in the shade of the many trees, before circling back around and exiting the park near Constitutional Hill— the road that led to where the Queen’s newest palace was being built, and what would lead you to her current one when you followed The Mall— St. Jame’s Palace, the awful place that would kickstart her entire nightmare on the day saved for the debutantes.

Right as the women were about to cross the road, people started to gasp, yell, wave, stop and stare. People started to crowd around them on the curb and the two young women could only stop and stare, watching as a cavalry guided the Queen's familiar golden coach through the streets. The clattering of the hooves on the cobblestones mixed together with the amazement of the folk standing around them.

Royal guards sat atop their stallions, but even if people called out to greet their Queen, it was not Queen Charlotte who Elladine saw in a flitted glance through the reflection of the glass. It was a young girl who sat caged inside the coach, looking at the world outside of it. Just then, Elladine could have sworn that the girl's eyes landed on those of her own, but before she could make that claim, the coach had passed them already. 

Apparently, Lillian had also realised it wasn’t Queen Charlotte that the carriage was transporting. She grabbed her friend's arms and shook her with an unnecessary amount of enthusiasm, “A royal visit at the dawn of a new season? I bet you it’s another Prince or Princess wanting to see the finest ware in London."

Elladine smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. She barely reacted, for it was another blow to her heart to remind her of the one thing she was desperately trying to forget— the season was about to start.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

The drawing room was filled with an aroma of scalding tea and the cook’s latest pastries to properly welcome their guests. Madame Delacroix hurried through the room with dresses in her hand and held them up to Elladine’s chest. 

“Non, too yellow.” Then she tried the other, “Non, too dark. Hmm, but this one brings out your complexion so perfectly, Mademoiselle Bridgerton.”

“Oh, yes.” Violet immediately agreed and nodded approvingly, loving how her daughter’s chestnut hair matched with the pastel green. Elladine’s eyes flashed to those of Daphne and Eloise, who sat beside her on the couch, one with an unamused glint on her face, the other with eyes full of pride. 

“It’s a wonderful colour, Ella. I love it with your eyes.” Daphne complimented, glad she had travelled to London to witness it all.

Madame Delacroix kept the dress up to the girl's chest, expectantly. Elladine cleared her throat, “Yes, I prefer this one over the yellow one.”

Kate, who sat beside Violet nodded in agreement and took a sip of her tea, grinning slightly as she saw Eloise try to make her twin laugh by mocking Madame Delacroix and the heap of dresses in her short arms.

“And how about this one-” The modiste hurried back to her coffers and pulled out a deep blue dress. “I was not sure if it would be too dark for your fair skin, but blue is the Bridgerton colour, non? Let’s see-” She mumbled and pulled it up to Elladine's figure, which had gone from a scrawny girl to a blossoming-looking woman with curves and shapes in all the right places. Elladine hadn't felt too alienated by the changes in her body, since they had happened too gradually to notice, but now that she looked down at herself and saw the swell of her chest keeping up the fabric of the dress, she wondered how it had ever happened without her noticing.

A few gasps were heard.

“My, Ella, you look like a wonderful lady in that one.”

"I like that one," Hyacinth blurted out through a mouthful of whatever pastry she'd been able to snatch.

“C’est magnifique. Mysterious too, non?”

Elladine’s eyes glanced at herself in the mirror, before they landed on Eloise, who sat slouched on the couch, wishing she were anywhere but here— she would be up next.

“Yes, perfect,” Eloise added absentmindedly after being nudged by Daphne. She sat up straight with a sigh, realising Elladine needed a little more confirmation from her, “Both are great, but the light green one makes you look young, whereas the deep blue one feels more mature. Either way, you look beautiful in both.”

Violin looked greatly surprised at the genuine reply, but quickly turned pleased— it seemed that Eloise's attempt to comfort her sister had worked.

“If I might have a say-” Kate leaned forward and touched the fabric in Madame Delacroix’s hands, “Start with the light green one. A soft shade is easy on the eyes and is a nice symbolic shade to start off the season. Yes, you want to stand out, but doing so on the first nights might not be exactly what you’re looking for. It's a little too forthcoming.” She hinted at the dark colour of the dress, knowing most debutantes stayed with light pastel colours to mirror their innocence, “Wear the deep blue one once you’ve established your place and feel more at ease. Besides, it is quite mysterious, it might make your suitors take the last leap.” She smiled heartedly, with a naughty glint in her eyes. 

Everyone looked to Elladine for the final answer.

“Then I’ll take both on top of the others we liked.”

“Perfect, Lady Bridgerton, I’ll start adjusting them right away. Now, for the casual gowns-” She opened another set of coffers. Elladine loved getting new dresses, but not when she knew she had to wear these to a ball she didn’t want to go to and wear them for a man she never wanted to impress.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Dear readers, it seems that our season is off to a magnificent start with the arrival of Spanish Crown Prince Felipe and his equally beloved twin sister Princess Graciela. Though our monarchy has never been too tight with the Spanish monarchy, it seems that Queen Charlotte deemed this as good a time as any to renounce the estrangement. It can only be assumed that His Grace is looking for a possible suitor for his future throne, seeing that he has reached the acquired age for a betrothal and his otherwise rather unusual timing to visit the Ton. Now we can only wonder who will turn his head. But before we lose ourselves to the speculation of the matter, all eyes will first be focused on this year's debutantes. Who will be the Ton’s newest Diamond? And will the Prince agree with the Queen’s decision? 

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, APRIL 1816  

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 <3

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆* tagged: @alohastitch0626 @crimeshowjunkie @thatgirljas13 @hauntedfictionland

[eloisesvalentine]

One Day

pairing: eloise bridgerton x female! reader

word count: 1642

summary: you and eloise hide under her bed to avoid getting caught. while she finds the situation hilarious, you, on the other hand, do not.

on ao3 here!

————

Eloise and you were now something more, no longer just friends. You were sneaking around, stealing kisses whenever no one was looking. It was exhilarating but also nerve-wracking, especially for you, whose parents would kill her if they ever found out. The Bridgertons seemed far more open-minded. Eloise didn’t seem as worried about them finding out as you were.

Both of you were making out on Eloise’s bed, your hair disheveled and dresses crumpled. The room was dimly lit by the setting sun streaming through the curtains, casting a warm orange glow over the scattered books and trinkets that reflected Eloise’s personality, a personality that you adored with every inch of your being. Eloise’s hands roamed freely, fingers tangling in your hair, then tracing the curve of your back. You responded in kind, your hands exploring the softness of her skin, the delicate lines of her neck, the curve of her waist. Her lips were warm and insistent against yours, each kiss deepening as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

Her breath mingled with yours, creating a heady mix that made your head spin. The taste of her, sweet and intoxicating, was something you craved more with each passing second. Your kisses grew hungrier, more desperate, as if trying to make up for all the stolen moments you shared. Eloise’s hand slipped under your dress, her touch sending shivers down your spine. You gasped softly, your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of desire and fear coursing through you.

When you heard Anthony’s voice booming from downstairs, your heart raced with panic.

“Eloise!” he called out, his footsteps echoing up the stairs.

You pulled away from each other and your eyes went wide with fear. Eloise laughed heartily, finding your panicked expression both endearing and amusing. “No need to worry,” she whispered, gently wiping at the smudged lipstick on your face. She glanced toward the door, hearing Anthony’s footsteps approaching. “Stay calm, my love. Let’s hide under the bed.”

You gulped nervously before nodding. Eloise grabbed your hand and tugged you down with her. You both slid underneath the bed, making sure your feet didn’t stick out from underneath.

Anthony knocked at the door. “Eloise, Mother needs you,” he called through the door. When she didn’t answer, he knocked louder. “Eloise!” His tone grew agitated. Eloise couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. The sound of her brother’s frustration only added to the thrill of the moment.

You shot her a look, a quiet huff escaping your lips. Eloise could barely contain her amusement.

Anthony continued knocking, his agitation growing.

“Eloise, I know you’re in there,” he thundered. “Come out this instant.”

Despite the situation, Eloise couldn’t help but find his frustration comical. The absurdity of hiding under the bed like children hiding from a scolding made her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.

“Very well, I shall enter. I trust you will make yourself presentable.” He opened the door slowly, scanning the room as he walked in. Eloise stifled another giggle, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You glared at her, quickly covering her mouth with your palm. “Could you be quiet for once, Eloise?!” you hissed in a whisper. You could feel Eloise’s grin against the palm of your hand, the vibration of her silent laughter only adding to your anxiety.

Anthony’s footsteps thudded against the hardwood floor as he moved further into the room. He glanced around, clearly puzzled by Eloise’s absence. Each step he took seemed louder in the tense silence, and the air felt thick with anticipation. You held your breath, every muscle in your body taut with fear of being discovered.

Eloise’s eyes met yours, her playful demeanor unchanged despite the gravity of the situation. Her irrepressible spirit shone through even now, making it impossible for her to take her brother’s ire seriously.

Anthony moved around the room, searching for any sign of his sister. He was so close to the bed now, and Eloise fought desperately to stifle her laughter. She could see your wide, nervous eyes in the dim light and felt the warmth of your hand over her mouth. You were surely going to get caught, and the thrill of the situation was making everything more hilarious to her. But definitely not to you.

You pressed your palm harder into Eloise’s mouth, a silent warning to keep quiet.

“Eloise?” Anthony said. He walked around the room some more, his shoes heavy against the hardwood floor.

You were beyond scared. Eloise was not taking this situation seriously enough.

“Where did she go?” Anthony whispered to himself. He stopped directly in front of Eloise’s bed.

Your heart thumped against your chest. Eloise could feel the rhythmic beating of it against her side. The room was silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the creaking of the floorboards as Anthony moved closer. Every second felt like an eternity, the suspense unbearable. Eloise’s body shook slightly with suppressed laughter, her eyes sparkling with mischief. You closed your eyes tightly, willing yourself to disappear into the floor, every muscle tense with fear. The scent of lavender from Eloise’s perfume mingled with the dust under the bed, creating a strangely comforting cocoon despite the perilous situation above.

Anthony stood there for a moment, his new, shiny shoes inches away from your hiding spot. Eloise’s heart raced faster, her amusement replaced by a slight flutter of anxiousness. Yet, her irrepressible nature couldn’t resist the temptation, and she began to poke her fingers into your sides teasingly.

You grabbed Eloise’s wandering fingers with your free hand. Eloise took the opportunity to lick your palm.

“I’m going to kill you,” you whispered lowly into Eloise’s ear.

Even in the tension of the situation, with Anthony so close and the fear of being caught, Eloise couldn’t suppress her mischief. The feeling of your skin against her lips sent a shiver down her spine. It always did.

She smirked slightly against your hand, replying in a whisper, “I’d like to see you try.” Her breath was warm against your palm.

Anthony finally left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him as he went.

“Eloise! You don’t take anything seriously, do you?” you hissed, removing your hand from Eloise’s mouth. Eloise was still grinning like a child.

“Oh, come now, I do take things seriously… sometimes,” Eloise laughed quietly, rolling her eyes at your chastising tone. She inched closer to you under the bed, your faces just inches apart. The dim light cast shadows across her face, emphasizing every perfect feature.

“You worry far too much, love.”

You sighed with a shake of your head. “I know… I just don’t want my parents finding out. You know why, El.”

Eloise smiled, amused by the lipstick smudges still on your lips and cheeks.

She reached a hand up, her fingers gently touching the smudges of lipstick on your face, wiping them away tenderly. A sly grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I know.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. “But you can’t deny that it’s exciting, can you?”

“Maybe a little…” you muttered quietly, a flush on your cheeks.

Eloise’s grin widened as you admitted the truth. She inched even closer, your faces tantalizingly close. Her hand still gently touched your cheek, tracing the contour, as her voice dropped to a whisper.

“A little,” she echoed, “Only a little? I think the way your heart’s racing speaks differently.”

“My heart is racing because we were about to be caught by your eldest and most intimidating brother if you hadn’t quit your giggling!” you replied, but couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face.

Eloise returned your smile, “I suppose you have a point. But I also think it’s partly from my touch, don’t you?”

She gently twirled a strand of your hair around her finger, her tone playful and flirtatious.

“It always is, Eloise,” you said, pressing a kiss to Eloise’s cheek. “Now, must we stay here all night?”

Eloise chuckled, her heart fluttering at the feel of your lips on her cheek. “No, I suppose not. Unless you would like to stay here… under the bed with me for the entirety of the night?”

“Anywhere with you is a blessing, but I fear this may prove rather uncomfortable as time goes on, darling.”

“True,” Eloise conceded with a playful pout. “As much as I’d love nothing more than to stay here with you, this isn’t exactly ideal. Besides…” she leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper, “We have plenty more room on my very comfortable bed.”

You both giggled as Eloise grabbed your hand. The pair jumped back onto her bed, Eloise attacking your face with kisses.

The giggles quieted as Eloise lavished kisses all over your face, moving from your cheeks to your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your heart fluttering at the affection. You were laid out on the bed, Eloise hovering over you, a mischievous grin on her face.

“You see,” she murmured between kisses, “Much more comfortable, hm?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

Eloise smiled against your skin. “You need not worry, my love. You’ll have me, always,” she whispered.

You nodded, embracing Eloise into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around her waist.

Eloise returned the embrace. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, the scent of your strawberry perfume filling her senses.

“I swear it,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “I wish I could marry you, just to keep you like this, in my arms, every night.”

“Me too. Maybe one day,” you whispered back.

“Yes, one day,” Eloise agreed, closing her eyes and holding you tighter. For a brief moment, the two of you held each other in silence, each lost in thoughts, hopes, and dreams of a shared future together.

[allthornsnopetals]

Being Jealous

:Includes:

E.Bridgerton

D.Bridgerton

V.Bridgerton

:E.Bridgerton:

She simply cannot help it, especially during the debutante season.

She understands that ladies of the Ton are expected to search for Suitors and marry, after all, it is the marriage mart. But it doesn't stop the gnawing at her gut or the heated glares, that she is rather terrible at hiding.

Eloise knows, that you love her, and would 100% dodge every man in and out of the Ton for her, simply because your heart has already devoted itself to her, but again it does not dampen the rage, and her mood.

She would let the feeling simmer, simply because in society she can't do anything.

She does not mean to let it grow, simply wanting to avoid confrontation, and trying to remind herself that what you are doing is simply a ruse, and to avoid suspicion of your relationship, but that all goes to hell at some point.

It builds up over time and eventually blows up, during a ball or gather of some sorts when she finds you dancing or chatting with another eligible Suitor, who is rather obvious with his intentions.

She storms out of the room, of course with you noticing and excusing yourself, searching for her in a hidden hallway, in order to make sure that she is okay.

"El, are you okay? Is something the matter?" Said Y/n, finding her love weeping angry tears.

"Yes, everything is just fine. It's just the dust, it's burning my eyes."

Y/n chuckles, finding her poor attempt to lie, rather amusing. She drew closer to her, wiping her tears away with the pads of her thumbs, and handed her a handkerchief, tucked away in her purse. "I love you Eloise Bridgerton, but you are a terrible liar." She held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Eloise pulls away, cleaning herself up. "Well, tell that to Lord kiss-my-ass. Tell him that your heart is already full, occupied by another." Her tone was rather blunt, angry and even sad.

But Y/n simply grinned, cupping her cheek, and pecking her cheek. "If you are jealous, my love, we can leave. I can inform my mama that I am feeling unwell. And perhaps I could show you my love in a more private setting."

It takes a lot of kisses, yearning touches, and perhaps a week in the country together to reassure her.

Next time, do better at lowering your number of dances and Lords you interact with, just in case.

:D.Bridgerton:

It isn't jealous but doubt with her.

Daphne is a lot more challenging to convince, in my perspective. She begins to question your love, thinking that you would slip away from her, and marry a Lord, duke or even a prince.

Her desire for love is rather a large part of herself, so when she begins to think that you do not love her, it gets a bit sticky and even messy between you and her.

She isn't angry, like Eloise but sad, feeling as if her heart is shattering, thinking that you have changed your mind about devoting your heart to her.

She might withdraw herself, becoming distant and even avoiding you at times.

But her mama is always watching, and she notices that something is wrong.

Violet noticed her daughter longingly staring at Y/n, clearly missing her, and wanting to be near her dear friend. She does not know what is truly between them but she can tell when someone yearns to be in the presence of someone extremely dear to them.

"You have not spoken to Miss Y/n in sometime. Has something caused a breaking between you and her?" Said Violet, sitting beside her daughter, watching Y/n frolic and interact with a possible Suitor.

Daphne shook her head, but her pout made Violet think otherwise. "Sometimes friends fight, misunderstand, and even begin to feel unwanted by the person they cherish most." Violet held her hand, drawing her attention.

"Whatever it may be that caused such a drift, perhaps talking might just fix it. It might just fix the spoken feelings as well." She stood, withdrawing herself, and allowing Daphne to think.

But that is all it took. She did not want to feel this way anymore. She wanted to know if her love's heart still yearned for her, perhaps even shattered without her. She needed to speak to Y/n, and she was going to do that, now. Pulling her away without another word, Daphne guides Y/n and herself somewhere more private, away from nosy ears and eyes.

Once secure, she turns, going in for the kill. "Do you love me?" She said straight forwardly. "Do you even want me? Or even need me, like I need you?" Daphne stared right at Y/n, never tearing her gaze away from her or spilling for air.

"Am I your air as you are mine? Can you sleep without me polluting your dreams, because I cannot. You are my air, but am I yours?" Her chest batted, heaving to her uneven breaths.

"Well, tell me. Do you love me?"

The shit eating grin, curving Y/n's lips confused Daphne. "This is why you avoid me? You feel as if I do not love you? Does this have anything relating to the men of the Ton calling for me, dancing, and even socializing with me?" Y/n steps closer to her, her smile so teasing it made Daphne's heart clench so giddily, and stomach twist. She was beginning to feel, rather foolish.

"My darling, are you jealous of the men of the Ton?" Y/n caressed her cheek, causing her to draw closer.

"Perhaps a little." She confessed, making her love chuckle.

"Come here, you bimbo." Y/n drew her into her arms, swaying them both, soothing her back. "Let us stroll, I do wish for a break from the Lords and their blistering egos." Daphne chuckled, taking her darlings arm.

It took a lot of alone time together, kisses, and even gifts.

It also meant a visit to the country side for a long while, with her family of course, but mainly you and her, mending the misunderstanding.

In this she learns to trust her love, to build and understand the purpose of talking, instead of avoiding and withdrawing.

A lot of reassuring glances, touches that cannot be read more than something friendly, seeking each other at balls, and spending time together when you are both back in society.

She just wants to be 100% sure in her love, so it does take a lot of time, even after talking about it and mending a few things, to truly reassure her.

:V.Bridgerton:

You and Violet go way back, as in before the marriage mart, and the search for husbands.

Your heart will always be devoted to her, and her alone, but society is cruel, so when it is time for you to marry it makes things a lot more complicated for both you and Violet. Marrying into high dynasties, but yearning for the other.

Violet has buried her jealous glares, heated anger, and built up sadness for more than ten years.

You were both respected ladies of the Ton with children and many eyes on you. But that never stopped the hidden glances, calling hours, and nights spent with each other.

She just wished she could have you all the time and have you like your husband has you, which is why in my perspective she struggles with jealousy.

But she would never voice it of course, because this is how it is supposed to be: A lavender marriage, affairs behind their husbands backs, silent yearning, and performing their duties as ladies of their houses.

The only thing that reassures her of your love is the fact that you name one of your children after her, but this comes about when she is feeling the most insecure, and heartbroken.

"You are expecting!" Agatha squeals, pulling Y/n into a bone crushing embrace, rendering her breathless.

"This is exciting news, indeed. Isn't that right, Violet?" Said Agatha searching for the other woman. Violet blinks, her eyes becoming glassy with her throat running dry. She nods, breaking her trance. "Exciting, indeed." She chokes, sipping her tea, fighting back tears.

She was losing Y/n, sealing both their fates with her pregnancy, something she thought would be a lot easier to digest. She smiles weakly before excusing herself for the chamber pot.

Y/n knew better. She knew that the news would be hard for Violet to hear and even understand. So after the ladies visit, during the night Y/n waited for Violet at their usual spot in the gardens.

Violet was late of course, making Y/n think that she would not show up, but she did and the look on her face said it all. Pulling her into her arms, Y/n reassured her of their love, trying to convince her that it would not change how her heart beats for her.

"Why did you not tell me earlier? Why not inform me alone?" Violet questioned, sitting with her, staring out at the stars.

"I wanted to keep it a secret, until I was sure. And I also want you and Agatha to hear together, she is also my friend, Vi. It is news to be shared with my most favored girls." Y/n explained, holding her hand and resting her head on her love's shoulder.

"Lord Bridger, marries you, sleeps with you, and finally impregnates you. How do you think I am to feel about the news?" Her tone was torn, sounding like shattered glass.

Using her fingers to guide her attention back to herself, Y/n pecks a quick but loving kiss to her lips. "I did not expect you to be happy, but I do hope that you be with me during this journey. Because if there is anyone I want most by my side during my pregnancy, it's you, my love."

She still envied your husband, even after his death when it left you a shattered widow with four children.

You mourned him, as she did Edmund, making her think that you did not just care for him, but loved him.

You named your only daughter after her, as a declaration of your love, which served as a reassurance.

For Violet it is a long process of reassurance, healing her insecurities, and finally talking through it, after so long of harboring her feelings.

Violet is just very sensitive and perhaps insecure, after all, loving some of the fairer sex is challenging in your society.

[chxrrybomb22]

Can anyone plz make a Eloise Bridgerton x fem reader forbidden love story with this part of the song it doesn’t had to be fic it can be a head canon if you want it too I just need this in my life (and can u plz tag me in it if possible) thank you!!!!! 🙏 🙏🥰🥰🤩🤩

@midnightgrimoire @ang3ldool @frost-queen @maximoff-pan @jimblejamblewritings @favefandomimagines

[agxxb]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ eloise bridgerton .ᐟ

𖤓 sfw. ☾ nsfw.

eloise thoughts

imagines!

☾ Touch Me There [1k]

blurbs!

[thetalkoftheton]

Y/N: Colin, you must stop gazing at me in such a manner and pay attention.

Colin: I cannot seem to help it, you are too lovely to look away from. You make me unbearably happy and I am afraid indecently proud to call you my wife.

Eloise: One can only hope it wears off soon, I would rather not have to see the two of you constantly making eyes at each other.

Colin: Someday you will find someone that makes you half as happy as Y/N does me and that day you will have to eat your crotchety words.

[girlkisser13]

us

"i felt it, you held it" "do you miss us, us" "wonder if you regret the secret" "of us, us"

pairings: eloise bridgerton x royal fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. jealous and insecure eloise. childhood best friends to strangers to lovers.

summary: when your mother announces that you are to be wed to the most eligible suitor in london, you are faced with the decision of whether to fulfill your duty to your country or to follow the inclinations of your heart.

the grand hall of buckingham palace was alive with the murmur of conversation and the soft strains of the orchestra, but eloise felt none of the joy that permeated the air. her heart was heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled love. tonight, the queen had announced that her beloved daughter was to be wed to the most eligible suitor in london. a proclamation that had caused eloise's heart to ache with a deep and abiding sorrow.

the two of you had been inseparable since childhood, bound by a love that neither of you fully understood nor questioned. but the years had wrought a cruel separation upon you both, and eloise was determined to understand why.

she had heard rumors that you were sent away in preparation for your future role in the royal court. during those long years, eloise had poured her heart into countless letters, each one a testament to her unwavering affection. but to her dismay, she had never received a single response. your time away had polished your manners and refined your poise.

as eloise stood by the refreshment table, her gaze was drawn to the dais where you sat beside your mother, the royal family was the epitome of dignity, yet your eyes seemed to search the room with a longing that mirrored her own.

as the queen's pronouncement echoed in her mind, eloise felt a surge of determination. she could not let this night pass without seeking the truth from you. she knew that your marriage was a matter of state, a union that would strengthen alliances and secure the future of the kingdom. but how could she bear to see the love of her life bound to another?

unable to endure the torment any longer, eloise made her way through the crowd, her heart pounding with determination. she reached the dais and curtsied before the queen, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her.

"your majesty," eloise began, "may i have a word with princess y/n?"

the queen, surprised by the request, nodded her assent. you rose gracefully and followed eloise to a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

"why did you never write to me, eloise?" your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt as soon as the two of you were alone.

her heart ached at the pain in your eyes. "i did write, my love. countless letters, each one filled with the longing and devotion i feel for you. but i never received a response. i feared you had forgotten me."

your eyes widened in shock. "i never received any letters, eloise. not a single one. my brother must have intercepted them."

eloise felt a mixture of relief and anger. “your brother? why would he do such a thing?”

“he always believed that you were a distraction from my duties,” you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. “he thought he was doing what was best for me.”

eloise took your hands in hers, her voice softening. "y/n, i have loved you since we were children. i have never stopped loving you. do you remember the summer we spent in the rose garden, reading to each other? it was then that i knew i loved you, truly and deeply."

tears welled up in your eyes. "i remember it well. and i feel the same. i always have. i never stopped thinking about you, even when i was away. you were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything. i never forgot. i do not believe i ever will."

the realization of your lost years struck the both of you deeply. you had been kept apart by forces beyond your control and yet, your love had endured. now, faced with the prospect of a marriage of duty, your heart cried out for the freedom to choose your own path.

eloise hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "but when you did not respond, i thought perhaps you were ashamed of what we shared, that you had moved on."

your eyes filled with fierce determination. "ashamed? never. you have always been my heart's desire, eloise."

you leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you, capturing eloise's lips in a kiss that spoke of all the love, longing, and promises of their past. the kiss was a reassurance, a silent vow that your love had endured and would continue to endure, no matter the obstacles.

as you parted, your voice was resolute. "i will find a way for us to be together, eloise. i will speak to my mother. our love is worth fighting for."

eloise nodded, her heart swelling with hope. "together, we can face anything."

hand in hand, the two of you returned to the ballroom, your resolve unshaken. in each other, you both found the courage to follow the inclinations of your hearts, no matter the cost.

[wlw-imagines]

Go Home - Eloise Bridgerton/Reader (Bridgerton)

request: another eloise request…since you’re into writing angst how about lady Whistledown hinted at the reader’s sexuality so reader breaks up with Eloise for her safety?? (Adore your writing and Eloise is my fav!!!) - anon

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. that's all i have to say.

also part one of 2, exciting times!!!

also warning i guess of like era homophobia  :-( also pen is v clearly pro lgbt i strongly believe but here she is just trying to protect a friend, i am certain she loves the gays

ALSO kind of spoilers if u haven’t finished season 2 i think?

FEAT. ANTHONY AS BIG BRO

You shielded the bright sun from your eyes, looking up to see Penelope walking over and taking the empty seat next to Eloise, “The day I no longer have to endure the excruciating pain of finding a husband may be the happiest day of my life.” She slumped back into the chair, after completing a quick search to ensure her mother wasn’t watching her.

You grinned, gently resting your hand on the arm of the chair, subtly linking your pinkie with Eloise’s, “I take it the stroll wasn’t a successful one then Pen?” You asked, sipping from your glass of cold lemonade.

Pen hesitated, “Mother did very well in succeeding scaring off all potential suitors left in the ton, if that’s what you mean?” She smiled and shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts from the walk, “What have the two of you been up to? I didn’t see either of you taking a walk?” She asked. You caught her gaze briefly flicking down to your hands and you cleared your throat, bringing your hand away from Eloise’s, and shifted in your seat.

“Oh, gosh no, I’ve been spending a blissful afternoon sitting right here with Eloise. We’ve been setting the world to rights, haven’t we?” You looked at her to see her already gazing at you, her eyes soft as she nodded. 

“We have.” She smiled a secret smile, immediately making you think of your murmured conversations just 10 minutes ago. You did your best to stop the blush from settling on your cheeks, although (judging by Penelope’s thoughtful expression) you don’t think you had done a good enough job.

You cleared your throat again, shaking off the feeling of unease, and shrugged, “No better way to spend my day than with the Bridgerton clan.”

“Maybe if you like the company of them so much then you should set your sights upon marrying one.” Pen mused, raising a challenging eyebrow at you. Surely you weren’t imagining this - had Eloise told her something?

But Eloise was still blissfully in her own world, her soft gaze still tracking your movements and her chin in the palm of her hand. “I am telling you right now Y/N, you are not to marry one of my brothers!” She grinned and you playfully roller your eyes at her.

“Well, I can think of only one Bridgerton I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with and I will never say who.” You told her, once more forgetting who’s company you were in until Pen let out a terse reply.

“I see.” She sent you a thin-lipped smile.

You smiled back at her, a proper smile in the hopes of mending any bridges that have seemed to break in recent days. Pen hasn’t been happy around you for a while. Eloise doesn’t think she knows, and even if she did, would be supportive of the two of you, but you can’t put your finger on what’s happening.

You went to stand up, “I should go, my Papa will be expecting me.”

“No, don’t go.” Eloise jumped up to join you, “Do you want company?”

You squeezed her hand and let her go before turning so Pen would not see the two of you holding hands, “No, El, you stay here with Pen and enjoy the sunshine. I don’t see why we should both have to miss out on all the fun.”

“I am sure we are capable of making our own fun.” She attempted an almost-wshiper but failed to hit the mark. You just hoped that Pen, or anyone else, had heard the not-so-subtle remark.

You winced as Pen spoke up, “As long as you can escape the watchful eye of the ton.” You sent her another placating smile and nodded.

“Right, yes, quite.” You took a deep breath, gathering your skirts.

“Whistledown is always watching.” Pen shrugged, a cautious eye flickering between you and Eloise.

“She is utterly wonderful thanks to her wide expanse of knowledge but alas, I doubt I am interesting enough to feature in her paper.” You nod towards her.

She shrugged, “You never know.”

“Well, I’ll frame it on the wall if I do get a feature and I will sign everyone’s copies.” You grin, trying desperately to win Pen over to your side again.

Eloise wrapped her hand around your arm and smiled, “I’ll be first in line.”

“Of course.” You smiled, sending her a look of gratitude, hoping it conveyed everything you wanted it to, and more, “I should go.”

“Okay, okay, yes. Go home and be safe.” She stops herself just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, her eyes slightly wide with alarm at her own almost mistake, “I will see you soon.” She quickly rearranged the panicked-look into a smile, waving you off.

“And I will look forward to that moment.” You nodded, before waving to Penelope too, “Bye, Pen!” And leaving the pair to their own devices.

Pen watched as you left, looking across the Eloise and watching how her gaze followed you until you were out of sight, “Since when have you become so close to Y/N?”

“Oh, not that long, not really.” Eloise quickly looked away from the space that Y/N had last occupied, and smiled at her friend.

“And so damning of Lady Whistledown? I thought you were still excited and trying to find out who she was?”

Eloise nodded, “I am! Not that I’ve got any further than last we spoke. I don’t know... it’s just a bit of fun, isn’t it?” She smiled, in her own little world, as she slumped back in her chair. Relaxing in the sunshine and watching the people of the ‘Ton pass by.

“I suppose.” Pen eventually shrugged. She wtached El in silence for a few moments and then leaned forward, a worried frown on her face, “Is there anything you want to tell me? As your friend. You can tell me anything. Anything at all.” She put her hand on Eloise’s.

“What’s with all the questions!” Eloise laughed, taking a sip of lemonade.

Pen let out the breath she was holding and sat back in her chair, “Sorry, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” She glance to El, once more, “And I’m worried about you.”

Eloise shook her head, “There is nothing to be worried about. I promise you. I have never been better. Honestly.”

What Penelope wanted to say was that she had become increasingly aware of Y/N’s intentions. What if Eloise got too attached? What if the ‘Ton caught wind of Y/N’s attachment to Eloise and the Bridgerton’s got dragged down into the dangerous rumours too? Eloise would never survive the accusations. 

Perhaps Penelope had to take things into her own hands, before the two did something particularly dangerous, like fall in love. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“Y/N?” Eloise’s voice echoed through the hall. You slowly lifted your gaze from the window, dragging it to the door, “Y/N?” She called again and your heart broke. Since reading the Whistledown this morning, you knew this moment would have to happen. You were hoping you could have put it off for longer. “Toby let me in.” Her frustrated tone pierced through the door. You could hear your butler do his best to convince her to leave but- “Did you... have you seen-?” She asked, bursting through the door. Toby stood in the doorway, looking apologetic but you just brushed him away. He sent you one last worried look and bowed, closing the door for your privacy,

You nodded, “It came through this morning.” You croaked, blinking slowly. You didn’t know that life could stop so suddenly. You could hardly believe your eyes when Toby had insisted you get up immediately and had carefully passed you the small piece of paper.

He had held you for most of the morning as you wept.

Eloise stopped in front of you, not entirely sure of what to do with herself. She crouched in front of you, hand on your knees, “Are you okay, my love?” When you didn’t answer, she gently reached her hand up to your cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and abruptly stood up. “I- I’m okay.” You had to get away from her. She shouldn’t even be here. You were angry with her. Or were you? You couldn’t tell. You were so confused and tired and sad. But you knew that her being here was a stupid mistake. What would people say once they knew she was in your company, alone.

“As soon as I saw it, I had to come over.” She rushed out, her eyes watery and her hand still grasping a crumpled up version of the gossip. You turned away.

“Eloise.” You forced out her name. How could even her name be ruined for you? How dare they take that from you?

You flinched as her hand rested at the bottom of your back, “I needed to see you and make sure you were okay.”

“Eloise.” You shook her head and tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You couldn’t say it. You wanted, just for one moment, to be selfish. You loved her. You will always love her. How could you leave her? But you couldn’t be selfish. You loved her too much for that.

“Mother doesn’t know I’m here though, because-” She hesitated and forced her fingers to ungrip the gossip. She looked up at you as fresh tears formed but she quickly rubbed away the tears and threw the paper into the fire. You pretended not to see it, “well, that doesn’t matter.” She clenched her hands into fists so you wouldn’t see them shake, but you did. Was it fear? Anger? You closed your eyes.

“Eloise, I can’t see you anymore.” You managed to whisper out. The fire crackled and had swallowed your words.

She stepped closer, “Pardon?” She looked so worried, she was worried about you. You strugled to breath.

You turned away again but spoke louder so you wouldn’t have to say it again, “We can’t be together like this anymore. I’m not... I don’t want this anymore.” You shook your head, looking out of the window, trying to imagine you weren’t here, you weren’t doing this, you were happy.

“Want what?” Her voice was quiet now, and she hadn’t followed you this time.

“Eloise, listen!” You turned sharply, “You have to understand.” 

“Understand?” Her breathing had sped up and she shook her head, “Well... understand what?” You couldn’t tell if she truly didn’t understand or was being willfully ignorant. She was a clever girl, your Eloise. You shook your head. Not your Eloise. Just Eloise.

“I no longer wish to see you, Miss Bridgerton.” You tried to hold your head high and keep your voice even.

She frowned and squinted at you, “And what, may I ask, do you mean by that?”

“I am sure I can only say this once.” Your voice shook again. So much for keeping the voice even, “Please, we can’t be together. I do not want to see you... ever again.” You gazed at the fire, refusing to make eye contact.

Eloise hummed, “You mean you do not want to be seen with me.” She said softly, correcting you.

“No, I-”

She interruped, “It’s two very different things.” she stepped between you and the fire, cutting your gaze off. Your eyes landed on her hands again. She was wearing your ring. You heart fell that bit further.

“El-”

Now she was desperate. Her hands started moving as she spoke, “Of course, we’re never going to want to be seen together but we can still-”

“Eloise! Stop.” You felt like a petulant child, who wasn’t getting their own way. “Stop it! I have simply...” You gritted your teeth, “I’ve moved on.”

Her face fell. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t- you didn’t want to do this anymore. She took a breath, and in a very small voice, asked, “You have... moved on?” 

You averted your gaze to the garden again. This time insisten that you would see this through. This was what you had to do. “This was nothing but a brief dalliance. I am sorry if I ever hinted otherwise.” You looked at the trees in the garden, the one you were so fond of when you were little. You would spend hours climbing, falling, painting, climbing again. You kept focused on that, on happier times.

“Dalliance?” You could hear the anger coming through now, “I’m not dim. I read the entirety of the latest Whistledown. I saw everything...” She faltered for words. “What was published means nothing to me, Y/N. My love,” You winced again, “I know you. The gossip changes nothing. I don’t care if I am seen with you, I-”

You shook your head, you needed another route. She knew you too well, "The gossip in the Whisledown is a separate matter, it is not... it has nothing to do with this, Eloise.”

“You’re being quite serious.” She stopped in her tracks.

Your gaze switched to the swing your brother had built for you when you were young, you distracted your mind with memories of those days. Days before Eloise. You survived then. You could survive now. The days after Eloise. Was that how your life would be mapped out? “Yes.”

“You cannot do this. I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t... allow it?” You turned around to face her.

“This is not you. Not the Y/N I know.” She was moving again, right in front of you with her hands cradling your cheeks and her forehead on yours. You did all you could not to cry, “I know you Y/N. I have got to know you in so many ways. I love you.” A tear escaped and she sniffled, angry once more with herself for letting her tears fall.

“What else do you want from me? Eloise? What more can I say?” You whispered, you didn’t have the energy. You felt like you could hardly stand.

“I want you- Darling, I want you to be honest with me. Tell me what is going on inside that head of yours. You cannot push me away.” She had broken now, tears were stubbornly spilling from her eyes. 

“I’ve only ever been honest with you, Eloise.” You spoke softly. And that was the truth. Until today.

“And do I not get a say in the matter?” She asked, voice breaking.

You closed your eyes. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“It cannot be changed? That I am nothing to you?” She whispered.

“No.” You shut your eyes even more. But instead of blocking things out, it only brought images. Like a book opening before your eyes, full of memories, full of Eloise. You groaned in frustration and pulled away.

“We could... you could come visit me, in the country. We could be together there, without worry. If it’s the ‘Ton that worries you.” She hiccupped and pulled you in again, she wiped your face, wiping away tears you hadn’t even realised were there, “We could leave tomorrow.” She intertwined your fingers, pulling you closer to her.

“You need to go.” You whispered.

She kissed your brow, “We could leave now.” She moved her hands, still intertwined with yours, to your cheeks and kept her lips to your cheek.

“Go home, Eloise. Please.” She shook her head, pressing a kiss to both eyes, and to your nose three times. 

“I love you.” She trembled, “Tell me. Look me in the eye, Y/N, and tell me you do not have love for me. That you do not love me - as I love you.” She forced you to sit and knelt in front of you, as she had when she first arrived.

“Just-”

Her hands squeezed yours, “Say it.” She challenged. A new steel in her voice.

“El-”

She squeezed your hands harder, “Do not ignore my request.”

“You need to-”

“Y/N.” She let go. You moved from the chair and to the floor, sitting in front of her.

You put your hand to her cheek now, and said as softly as you could, “Go home, El. I will not say it again.”

“Then do not say it again, and I will stay.” She looked at the floor, refusing to meet your gaze.

“I-” Her eyes snapped to yours, and you looked down, “do not love you.”

She leant forwards, “I asked you to look me in the eye and-”

“Eloise, I-” You dragged your eyes to hers. You couldn’t do this. How could you0 “I do not love you.” You said.

You watched a shift of emotions in her eyes, and there was a long period of silence. Eventually, she leaned back, stood up and took a deep breath, “Y/N,” You prepared yourself for the worst, to hear her say something awful. As you have said hurtful things to her. For her to leave, which is what you supposeduly wanted. You couldn’t watch her go, “I just do not believe you.”

You pushed yourself up off the floor, “I have done everything you have asked of me!” You shouted.

“It is truly what you want?” She asked back, her voice rising to match yours.

Before all hell could break lose, Toby knocked on the door. You turned away, back to looking out the garden.

“Miss Y/L/N? Lord Bridgerton is here.” He said, and you sighed, body tensing up.

Eloise spoke softly once more, “He- my brother?” She asked, in disbelief.

“Send him in.” You tried to sound commanding, but all that came out was a weak request and a tremble in your voice.

“Miss Y/L/N,” You turned and he briefly bowed to you, “Eloise, we’ve been looking all over for you. It is late. You should come home.” He said, curtly.

Eloise gathered her emotions together, “Brother, I am perfectly capable of visiting my friends, thank you very much. We are simply... discussing the latest gossip.” She couldn’t bring herself to look at you, but she nodded to her brother, “You may leave, I will follow shortly.”

He glanced at you, before striding over to his sister and grabbing her arm. He whispered, angry, but you could still hear, “You will do well to remember what Mother said.” He gritted his teeth, “This is inappropriate. You are being childish.”

“I did not feel in need of your accompaniment, brother, so I do not understand why you are even here.” Her voice was angry once more. 

“You know perfectly well why I am here.” The tone perfectly matched Eloise’s.

“Oh? Well, please, elaborate.”

“Eloise, I am your brother. You will do as I say.”

You were suddenly immeasurably tired. Both you and Mr Bridgerton wanted the same thing. You put your trust in him that he would get his way quicker than you would. 

“The two of you may remain here and squabble all you like. I will depart to bed.” You said, hardly glancing at either of them as you passed.

Eloise went to move towards you, “Y/N-”

Anthony bowed his head as you passed, “Miss Y/L/N-”

Just before leaving you turned and looked Eloise in the eye, “Go home, Miss Bridgerton, and be safe. Do not think of me. That is all I can ask of you.” You sent her a pleading look with your eyes, praying she listened. “Lord Bridgerton.” You bowed your head to him and closed the door behind you.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

There was a soft knock on your door. You chose not to respond. 

The knock sounded out again, a few minutes later, “Miss Y/N?”

You groaned and tore the soft blankets from over your head. “What is it Toby?” You called out, gaze settling on thpacked bags at the end of your bed.

“Lord Bridgerton has requested your presence.” He called out, voice as soft as his knock. You winced at the title.

You sighed, rolling over, “Send him away, please.”

Toby hesitated, “I told him as such myself. I’m afraid he has insisted on waiting in the library.” He finally admitted.

“Well then, you can tell him that he can do what he likes but I will not be seeing him.” You gritted your teeth and covered your head with the blankets once more.

“Y/N, I do not think he will go without a fight.” Your butler’s voice was muffled through the sheets covering your head.

You screwed up your eyes in frustration and shouted out, “I will not see him, Toby.” Then took a deep breath and unclenched, already feeling sorry for your reaction to the man who was more like your father than the biologoical one you had, “I’m sorry, I- please, I cannot.”

“I will try again.” He promised.

“Thank you.” You whispered after he had gone. You pulled yourself into a tight ball and wept again.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

You had waited all day, knowing that you had a visitor yet hoping that he would, essentially, fuck off. 

Toby had been coming in at intermittent priods to give you updates but they were pretty much all, ‘Lord Bridgerton still waits in the library’ and you telling him to tell him to ‘fuck off but please phrase it a more palatable way’. Unfortunately, the Bridgerton hadn’t seemed to get the hint.

You sighed and sat up in bed. You could wait him out but a bit part of you fully believed that he would say all night and then, when you tried to leave for Frankfurt the next morning, he would follow you all he way their until he had got what he came for. He was like his sister in that way.

You gritted your teeth. How many time would you have to tell a member of this family to just leave you alone. You’re just trying to keep them safe, don’t they get it?

Finally, after meditating on it a while, you got up. Your lady’s maid had put out a dress, just in case you had wanted to talk with him, but you wanted this over and done with. If he insisted on talking to you, then let’s make this as difficult for him as possible. 

You’d speak to him in your sleeping garments. On your terms.

You stomped down the stairs, going back to stomp on a stair again if you felt it hadn’t been loud and angry enough the first time. 

Toby couldn’t help but smile as he saw you, well- heard you first, and he bowed his head as he opened the door.

“You have a great deal of patience, Lord Bridgerton.” You glared at him, sitting in your chair, your favourite spot in the library. He practically jumped out of his skin, dropping the piece of literature he had been entertaining himself with as he waited. “Did I say you could read my books?”

He looked you up and down and averted his gaze, looking slightly stricken. He snapped the book shut and put it down on the table.

Anthony stood up and bowed his head, “I, uh, wanted to speak with you.”

“I do not wish to do so with you. You may leave now.” You all but snarled, showing him the way to the door.

He paused and frowned, “I will wait here until you agree to talk.”

“Then you will be waiting a long time.” You shrugged, turning around to walk back to the door.

“I can stay here all night.” He called after you.

“And I will be gone in the morning.” You spoke, hand on the door knob, willing yourself to leave, now. You weren’t even meant to warn him that you were leaving.

He faltered for a moment, “Gone?” 

You let out a frustrated sigh, more with yourself than him, and turned back towards him, stepping away from the door, “Tomorrow I leave for the continent. My brother will be waiting for me in Frankfurt.” You spoke evenly for the first time in days, “My father organised it all.” The spite returned back to your voice. You hated the man, but you accepted that the change of scenery would do you good.

“And Eloise...?” Anthony blinked a few times, lost for words.

You shook your head, “Doesn’t know.”

He frowned, “Perhaps she should.” 

You already felt the familiar prickle of tears at the back of your eyes and bit your tongue to keep them at bay. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him, quietly, resigned.

He sat, slowly, as if to not scare you off, “I- I just have some questions.”

“I am not interested in answering them.” You said and yet you found yourself sitting in the open seat opposite him, your father’s chair.

“Eloise-” You audibly winced at the name and Anthony quickly took note, trying to move on, to keep you talking. “You and her.”

“I am sure you have seen the papers. I could not continue a,” You hesitated as yet another li escaped your lips. It seemed all you could do now. “friendship with your sister after what has been spoken of me.”

He nodded, a look of deep thought crossed his face and he turned his gaze directly to you, a soft gaze, almost a gaze of brotherly love. Your chest ached again, “You saw a lot of one another.”

You hesitated, waiting for the trick. But sighed and nodded, “We did.” Giving him no more information.

He shook his head, “Don’t make me say it.”

“We were friends.” You gritted out.

“You know that’s not what I’m asking, Miss Y/L/N.” He sat his weight forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he look at you with his brow wrinkled.

“Then what are you asking, Lord Bridgerton?” You asked, terse once more. 

“Were you...?” He dropped off, hoping that you’d understand what he was trying to get across without actually having to speak the words.

You lifted your chin stubbornly, “No.”

He shook his head and rubbed his face with his hands, “I shouldn’t have asked for I already know the answer to that. I should have recognised the looks you gave one another. From the very beginning...” He sat back in the chair again. You looked at him, really looked at him. He was tired, lost, confused. He was in pain. “She’s not been the same since your last... conversation.”

Not in the same kind of pain you were in. You gritted your teeth again as your heart dropped, “That’s not a question.”

“No,” He was watching you, just as you were him. You felt vulnerable and wished you had just left the room when you had the chance. Now, the mention of her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. He was your last connection to her, “I thought you should know, is all.”

“Anthony-” You pondered how to phrase it, how to say it, what tone to take. “I have done what I needed to in order to protect Elo- to protect your sister. Now you are duty bound in continuing to protect her.” You gaze intensified, “As her brother-”

“As her brother! I would do anything for my family- for my sister.” He interjected, a split second of anger at the suggestion that he is not doing all he should.

“Then get her a best kind of husband. One that will respect her wishes and treat her kindly.” You pleaded. You knew that’s not what she wanted. How could you disrehard her wishes so?

“What if that's not what she wants?” Your gaze flickered up to his. He knows. He cna protect her. “Not what would make her happy?” The same flare of anger that had just struck Anthony moments ago now struck you hot.

You stood up over him, “Do you think I am happy?” You bit out, digging your fingernails into your palms. Don’t you dare cry, Y/N, you thought to yourself. “Look at me! Do you think it filled my heart with joy to have to lie to her? To look her in the eyes and deny all feelings of my love for her?” Your voice wobbled and your pressed your palms even tighter, “Do you think I enjoy hearing of her misery?” Your voice broke and you took a deep breath, carefully unfurling your fingers to see little indentations in your palms.

Anthony was gazing at the floor, chin in hand, deep in thought, seemingly unaffected by your outburst, “You did what you had to.” He summarised for you.

“Yes.” You whirled around again, “Yes! To prevent scandal to your family name, I did what I had to!” You poked your finger into his shoulder, “I have not slept for feeling so wretched. I didn’t know it was possible to feel even more so.” You crumpled on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest, and letting the tears o, “Yet here I am.” You wept.

He stood and, slowly and quietly, came to sit next to you. Anthony brought his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side.

“Anthony, you know she doesn’t have to marry a man. But you know as well as I do of the connotations that will bring. If that is what she wishes, and I believe it is- I know it is, then you need to prepare for that.” You mumbled into his shoulder, your tears making his shirt wet through, “Don’t force her to marry. Even if you think it’ll make things easier.” You begged. This was, surely, the last thing you could do for her. The only thing you could do to bring her joy.

His adam’s apple bobbed and he turned his head slightly to you, “And would you marry a man?”

“Never.” You gazed into the distance, thinking of your ow family, of your father, “But I will no longer have the gossips of the ‘Ton to answer to.” You shrugged, helpless and tired, but defiant.

“And what will you do?” He asked, softly.

“All that is left to do is to leave come morning.” You responded, “My bags are packed. There is nothing left here.”

“Nothing?” He moved sharply, almost so fast that you keeled over right into the space he had just occupied. You steadied yourself as he sat himself in front of you, passion burning in his eyes. He was challenging you. 

“Perhaps I mean that there is too much for me here.” You met his gaze again and he nodded.

“Perhaps.”

The two of you sat in silence for a short period of time, perhaps a few minutes. Eventually, you wiped at your cheeks and stood up, holding out your hand. “I thank you for your visit, Lord Bridgerton.” He took your hand, standing up.

“I fear nothing good came of it.” He looked more troubled than he had when he had first arrived but he squeezed your hands in thanks.

“Hmm.” You nodded in agreement, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help her. I don’t even have the answers myself.” You admitted.

“And what if I want to talk again?” He asked, plainly.

You faltered. You were going away, cutting off all conncections to this place. You frowned and shook your head, “I’m leaving-”

“But can I write?” He perservered. The ache in his eyes made you falter, and you gave in too easily. Maybe you were becoming too soft.

“You can.” You answered, before your tongue could stop and your brain could cut in.

He quirked up an eyebrow and there was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, “Will you answer?”

“Maybe not. I don’t think I’ll ever have the answers you’re looking for.” You admitted, “You’re a good brother.”

“And you’re brother... is he good?” He asked, still with a tight hold of your hands, torn between letting you go and begging you to stay.

“He will look after me.” You nodded.

“I am sorry, for what it is worth. I’m sorry that you can’t be happy here, with Eloise.” He said her name with such force and certainty. Perhaps you couldn’t just shut her away in a memory box in your brain. She was always stubborn like that. “You have all the qualities I would wish for in a gentleman.” His lips quirked up in a small smile. 

You think that, for the first time in a days, you may have just smiled too. A sad kind of smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Good night, Anthony.” You pulled your hands from his grip. “I will esnrue to send you Toby with my future address.” He nodded and bowed one last time.

“Safe travels,” Anthony walked himself to the door, opening it. You didn’t follow. He looked back one last time, “and thank you.” He smiled again, closing the door behind him.