#bridgeton AU

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Dearest reader, It has come to this author's attention that the Silva family seems to be rather enjoying themselves this season... even though some choices are questionable and may become the centre of gossip. Foreign princess, a peasant with a sharp tongue, frail daughter of a Great House and a boy from nowhere... Will they prevail, or will the obstacles be greater?

Rosette belongs to @vilandel 💕

All of these were referenced from Kanthony scenes from the second Bridgeton season.

[lawonderlandwriter]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen Characters: Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia), Rhaella Targaryen (Wife of Aerys II), Viserys Targaryen (Brother of Daenerys), Olenna Tyrell, Cersei Lannister Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Regency Era, Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Daenerys as Daphne, Jon as Simon, NO rape or no-con, Eventual Smut, slowish burn, depends on how long it takes me to write it really, age history and relationship changes for my own convenience, Don't Like Don't Read, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Targaryen incest is still a thing and totally acceptable, copy pasta the Bridgerton script in places, if that's not your thing you don't have to read Summary:

After Daenerys's eldest brother Rhaegar all but ruins her prospects on the marriage market with his constant meddling, her newly minted Duke of Winterfell nephew steps in with an intriguing proposal. All Dany has to do is... not fall head over heels in love with him. And all Jon has to do is the same. Pity for them both things do not go according to plan.

[nephilimeq]

Hunger Games AU

Penelope is from District 12, along with Benedict, and they get pulled into the games, unexpectedly finding love at the same time they start a revolution that will change the course of history...

[xoxosimp]

the urge to write a Bridgeton AU with General! Dick Grayson and Spinster! Reader ... The urge is indeed very strong

[shiningstar-byulxx]

Second Choice No More

Kim Gyuvin X Female Reader ft Shen Ricky / Shen Quanrui

Genre - Angst / Royal au / Bridgeton au

Requested - No

Word Count - 797

Synopsis - Y/n had enough of being the second option. She changed but Gyuvin cannot accept the new situation that has occurred. Y/n decides her own path and fate with or without Gyuvin.

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©shiningstar-byulxx

Disclaimer - Please do note that this is work of fiction, and it does not reflect on the members personalities or how they are in real life.

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𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝑖𝑚'𝑠 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑒

Two people can be heard from the young duke's study room, many maids were curious but knew not to over step the boundaries of the young duke and the lady conversation and went off to do their duties.

Y/n whose looking at Gyuvin who is looking out from his window and sighed then said with frustration emitted from her voice "Gyuvin, you cannot decide when you want to love me..."

Tears began to appear glistening from her shining eyes, but Y/n continued as she was replied with silence "You had all these years, and now I am tired of waiting for you... You could have escorted me to the ball, but you had refused my invitation and came with another!"

Letting out a breath and softly said "You cannot act like you love me now!..."

She sniffles "I have already decided to take the Crown Prince Ricky's hand in marriage, my parents has already approved of the marriage so does the majesties... the invitations of our wedding will be sent out soon and preparation has already begun."

With that Y/n stood up from the sofa and turns away from Gyuvin walking towards the door, but as she reaches for the door, Gyuivin grabs her wrist to stop her from leaving, but Y/n continues to look ahead refusing to look at Gyuvin.

Gyuvin who speaks with despair underlying in his voice "Y/n please rethink about it... about us! You know how much you mean to me!" But with a cold voice piercing through Gyuvin's ears Y/n replies, "Sorry does not work anymore Gyuvin, you have already made your choice and it was not me..." Y/n's voice breaks but continues "it was never me who is going to be your first choice... I cannot keep being your second choice when you were my first..."

Y/n turned around in which Gyuvin is faced with a tear-stained appearance from Y/n and she looked into his eyes and said "I am not going to be an option or a last-minute solution to your problems anymore... and frankly I believe I deserve worthy of love and Crown Prince Ricky has shown me his sincerity and love towards me..."

Y/n let out a breath "I fell in love with a man who truly cherishes me and loves me for the way I am. I am his first choice and his last love, and I tend to the same for him because I love him!"

Her eyes softens which showed Gyuvin she held deep love for her new lover.

Y/n takes her other hand and gently removes Gyuvin hand away from her wrist and said "Gyuvin, I am finally happy now so please do not make this any harder for me anymore" whilst giving him a weak smile and tears are flowing down her face.

Once again Y/n looks up towards Gyuvin with sincerity "Maybe in another life time, it could have been us but now let us be each other's first love who became strangers that were childhood friends".

This in turn made Y/n tears flow even more and Gyuvin tears rolls down his face.

Y/n quickly wipe her face with her handkerchief and proceeded to walk out through the doors of Gyuvin's studies to return home. But before leaving Y/n look back towards Gyuvin tear-stained face and curtsied whilst saying "It was a pleasure to meet you Young Duke Gyuvin" giving him a weak smile with glistening eyes.

Once again Y/n softly says, "goodbye Vinny" and walked out the door with Gyuvin's heart and love.

Gyuvin stood still with shock running through his body. He reminisces the late-night shenanigans they have been through, escaping from their studies and being each other's escorts to get their parents off their back about potential partners.

Remembering Y/n's smiling face whilst saying his name softly and lovingly in amides of the flower meadow where the escape from their strict classes.

Gyuvin just had realised that he really had lost his only love... He was too busy changing himself to fit his social circle with his friends that he forgot the person he was with since the beginning especially his first love, but now it is all in vain he lost his love who has already left him to be with someone who puts her first, unlike him who he had forgotten about her.

He always thought Y/n and him would always be with each other, but he never imagined she would ever leave him.

Hearing the trotting and plodding of the horses hooves and the carriage leaving the estate that is when he knew he has lost her.. he lost his first and last love... and it will be forever engrained in his mind for a long time, his tears cannot bring back his love.

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Hello everyone, I hope you have enjoyed this imagine. I haven't written in a long time so I hope this was alright, sorry if its not perfect, but its practically imperfect to me haha. But let me know if I had made a mistake.

I actually wanted to make this a series of how it came to this scene, but I don't know if anyone will be interested in other parts of this story could lead to haha. I had this idea since a while before boys planet and I thought it would go nicely with the '04 line.

©shiningstar-byulxx; all my work is made by me, please don't copy, translate, repost and steal my work!

You're more than welcome to like, comment and reblog, Thank you! I hope everyone will have a lovely day!

[elysianightsss]

I BURN FOR YOU | PART ONE

Simon’s heavy footsteps echo in your ears, the floor boards of the church creaking as he walked. At least he was courteous enough to help you into the carriage, you thought as you grabbed onto his large glove covered outstretched hand letting him guide you inside before getting in himself and sitting on the plump cushion seating opposite you.

The footman closed the door just as your families came out to throw flower petals and wave you off. The sight of them so happy made you more glum than this whole day had.

“Well that was a dreadfully boring ceremony.” Simon quipped, leaning his head back as the carriage started moving. Your gaze did not move from your parents, their smiles made you grimace.

“It’s rather sad that I couldn’t be entertained at my own wedding. Wouldn’t you agree wife?” The man across from you had almost snarled out the word wife.

You simply roll your eyes at him, something he does not take kindly to.

“If I had been in the country when this was all being arranged, I could’ve stopped this from ever happening in the first place. I wouldn’t be shackled down in this ridiculous sham of a marriage!” He snaps, the scar on his chin that goes right through his lips and stops at his Cupids bow, moves with each word he spits your way, fire in his eyes as he does so.

“Trust me the feelings mutual.” You scoff, snapping back at him.

“Oh, I’m well aware wife. I could tell as much as soon as I lifted your veil and saw the scowl on your face.” He chuckles with no humour, it’s dark and unnerving causing you to shift in your seat. “How fortunate I am to have such a beautiful bride” The sarcasm drips from his lips in a way that makes your blood boil but you manage to bite your tongue even if he seems unable to.

“Even when he’s dead, my bastard father still finds ways to meddle in my life. Arranging a marriage behind my back, of all things.” The leather of his gloves squeak when his fists tighten in anger.

“Well, it’s no matter. As long as we pretend for the next three months, we shall be free to live our lives separately once the London Season ends, per our families’ agreement. It should not be too difficult to accomplish such a task, will it wife?” Simon raises an eyebrow but yet somehow manages to keep the scowl on his face.

“No. Husband.” You say through gritted teeth.

He is thankfully silent for the next half an hour, and again he does help you out of the carriage when you arrive outside the manor that is now your home. You gaze up at the structure with awe, it was much bigger than your old home though your father was a Baron and Simon was a Duke.

“I’m leaving the grand tour of the estate to the housekeeper. Oh and do try to remember where everything is, I won’t be walking you to your bedroom each night, wife.” He says briskly as he walks passed you and ascends the stairs.

He pauses, snapping his fingers like he’s forgotten something before shooting over his shoulder at you, “Sleep well, dear wife. I do so look forward to seeing what excitement our marriage brings. I’ll see you bright and early for breakfast tomorrow!” He hollers back at you and so swiftly disappears inside.

“Not on your life.” You mumble to yourself, scoffing at his audacity. “What an insensitive, intolerable arse.” You sigh sitting down on the steps of your new home. You gaze out at the beautiful gardens. The night sky full of stars and a chill had set in, a sign that winter wasn’t far away.

“Excuse me Your Grace.” Looking up from where you had been admiring the patch of red tulips off to your right, you met eyes with a welcome smile.

“I am Johnny, the housekeeper. I run the house and keep all the staff in check. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Duchess.” You smile softly at him and with his help you stand from where you were on the cold steps.

“The pleasure is mine Johnny. I didn’t think there would be a kind soul here given the master of the house but it appears I am mistaken.” Johnny coughs to cover up his laugh but his smile remains.

“Allow me to escort you to your room, Your Grace, you must be exhausted after the day you’ve had.” His Scottish accent soothed you as he held his arm out for you to take. Hooking your arm with his, you let Johnny guide you inside the manor. The decor and architecture was pleasant on the eyes and by the looks of it very expensive.

Johnny leads you up the grand staircase and into the west wing where he pushed open a cream coloured door to reveal your bedroom. The room was large and painted a dark blue, the four poster bed was the biggest bed you’d ever seen in your life. The fireplace opposite the bed was lit, the wood burning nicely and crackling away creating a lovely atmosphere.

Further in just after the bed were two reading chairs facing the large window, you gaze out of it seeing the very same garden you were looking at before. Except the red tulips were right below you and from here you could see the large pond and the stables.

“Through there are your belongings.” Johnny said, pointing to the door just to the right of the bed, behind you. You had quite forgotten he was there but managed not to show how you flinched at his voice.

You nodded, “I can dress myself for bed, please do not disturb the maids. I wish to sleep now.” You communicated trying to sound as soft as you could.

“Of course Your Grace, I bid you goodnight.” Johnny bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him leaving you all alone. You’re just glad it wasn’t dark in your room. Getting changed out of your layered wedding dress and into your nightdress was a task and a half but you feel accomplished as you crawled into the large bed and snuggled down for sleep.

You are woken up bright and early just as your husband had said. Your maids got you bathed, dressed, and downstairs for breakfast in record time.

Your husband was already inside the dining room, a newspaper in his hand and a cup of tea in the other. He acknowledged you with a good morning but you only nodded back to him and sat down in your seat at the other end of the long, seats fourteen, table. Opposite one another, yet so far away.

A layer of awkwardness settled upon the moment with cutlery scratching against plates, and glasses clinking with the table being the only thing that was heard. Even the servents glanced at each other nervously, the atmosphere tense.

Simon couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to you. You hadn’t said a word this morning, you had a sharp scowl on your face, even the way you buttered your toast was harsh.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He tested the waters, but again you said nothing. Only responding with a nod. “Last night you spoke to me. Or is it that you prefer to mutter things to yourself? What was it you called me again? An insensitive, intolerable arse” he laughed, it was small but held such amusement.

“I must admit, I have never heard such crass language leave a proper young lady’s mouth before.” That makes you pause as you’re about to cut into a sausage, he’d heard you bad mouthing him.

Your cheeks warm with slight embarrassment but Your glare is enough to get him to change the subject, “You’ve hardly eaten your breakfast. Is the food not to your liking? Do I need to have the chef prepare another meal for you?’ At this you shake your head no but that only frustrates Simon even more. “Then might I ask if there is something troubling you?” He tries, eyes holding a curiosity that makes you want to curl in on yourself and hide.

“No” You state.

And that’s it. That’s how it continues for the next two weeks of your marriage. Where other newlyweds would be rolling around together in bed in newly wed bliss. You are avoiding your husband and barely speaking to him during meal times something he is more than happy to point out.

Simon snaps one evening after asking you once more if something is the matter, to which you responded, “What’s it to you?” He most certainly does not take kindly to your attitude.

“Well forgive me if my curiosity is somewhat piqued. You are quite talented at making yourself scarce, so I apologize if my inquiry as to what my wife is thinking is a step over your boundaries!” He slams his knife and fork down on the wooden table.

There is a pause where it seems like the whole world is silent. You stare at your husband, watching closely as he tries to calm down from his outburst. Once he takes his fourth deep breath you decide to speak.

“Do you even care?”

Simon lets out a cold laugh at your question, “Out.” He commands to the servents, they make themselves scarce, the doors shutting behind them.

“Whether I ‘even care’ or not is irrelevant. Like it or not, we are husband and wife. And for the next three months, we must at least look like it.”

“Why should that matter here?” You roll your eyes placing your knife and fork down, though much more gently than Simon did.

“You are truly ignorant if you think we don’t have to pretend even within the confines of this estate. Servants have eyes. And ears. And we have little control over what they choose to share with those outside of this household. I have no doubt word of the state of our marriage has already reached London and spread throughout the Ton.” Simon stands, his chair scratching against the floor as he does. His heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak and it reminds you of your wedding day.

“This is truly disastrous.” Simon says bitterly as he pours himself a drink of amber liquid from one of the many crystal bottles on the side table.

“I’m not exactly having the best time of my life here with you either.” You sit back in your chair, folding your arms over your chest. Defensive and detached.

“Oh I’m well aware, you don’t exactly hide your distaste for me well, and I would be lying if I said the feelings were not the slightest bit mutual. But it would be wise to at least learn to tolerate each other’s presence.” He barks irritatedly swirling the amber liquid around in his glass before knocking it back. The glass is finished in one big gulp, it leads him to pour another before returning to his seat.

“Now with all that settled, I would very much appreciate it if you could cooperate with me in our little endeavor, dear wife.” Simon does what you think is a smile but you’re unsure. It looks more like a vicious dog baring its teeth to you in warning before it bites.

A few moments of silence between the two of you. You didn’t want this. A loveless marriage with a man who had absolutely zero interest in you. At least he wasn’t beating you though, or worse. Your brain pushes those thoughts aside and pushes you to think about what could have been instead.

It makes your heart ache and your eyes well up with tears. The last thing you want to do is cry in front of Simon. You abruptly push your chair back and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you as you leave.

You’re panting by the time you get to your room, the tears pouring down your face as you heave. You’re on your knees before you know it, sobbing into your hands. The world moves on around you while you cry and pray for a different life. That this is all a dream and you’ll wake up soon in your old house with your old life before your parents decided to give you to this man.

You manage to pull yourself onto your bed where you cry yourself to sleep.

The rain was coming down hard now you noticed, a simple contrast compared to how it drizzled when you had woken up. Well, more like forced awake. The nightmare still fresh in your mind, a life you’d never have, your husband with other women. A loveless marriage and a baron home.

Your nose was blocked and your eyes puffy and sore from your melt down earlier. You washed your face and changed into your white nightgown and dark red robe before lighting a candle and making your way to the library.

The library, you could live and die happily in here. It was full of all your favourites and you always left the room with a smile on your face. A hard contrast to how you had left your bedroom earlier this evening.

You were so immersed in reading when Belle begins to fall in love with the beast that you didn’t even hear the library door slowly creak open.

To be continued…

Taglist | @watyousayin @corvusmorte @callmecurious97

[mjmikaelson]

#POLIN

POLIN MODERN AU—SPIDER-MAN

Penelope Featherington-Watson

•secretly writes for the Daily Bugle, her goal: unmasked Spider-Man

Colin Bridgerton-Parker

•photographer of the Daily Bugle

(masked vigilant of NY)

new reacting fic—coming soon!

[sea-owl]

I request a governess polin au, hell we can add kathony too.

So let's say that in this au, Kate never went to London and Penelope never had London debut. To help with the family finances Kate set out to become a nurse/governess (I am aware they are two different positions, but just roll with me.) After discovering Lord Featheringtons debts Portia only had enough money to debut one more daughter. After debating she decided to place her bets on Felicity. Neither ever met the Bridgertons.

Somehow Penelope ended up as a sort of apprentice/partner to Kate and the two found a good job within the house of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings. With two of them they are able to take care of the children, Auggie, and Amelia, when they are younger and later teach them as well as any other children the Duke and Duchess may have.

The two get along well with their employers and they have each other so the loneliness that usually comes with their kind of position isn't as bad.

Then comes 1816 aka the year without summer. Things were wet and cold, some of the ton had decided to forgo that season and stay in their country homes. One of those families was the Bassets, who decided to invite the family to Clyvedon for the rest of the season, with possibly taking some time to go to Aubrey Hall.

Of course Kate and Penelope are also at Clyvedon, helping take care of the young lord and ladies.

"Oh Kate, Penelope," Daphne greeted as she walked into the nursery. "You two can take a break for a little while. Just bring the children down to the drawing room, my family will be here soon and I'm sure they'll want to see the babies."

"Yes your grace," Kate and Penelope bowed.

"Thank you-," Daphne cut herself off with a yawn. "Oh forgive me on that."

"It is alright your grace," Kate said.

Daphne fought another yawn as she walked out of the nursery.

Kate and Penelope looked at each other before letting out soft giggles.

"I suppose we'll have another little one soon enough," Kate said as she held onto Auggie's leading strings in one hand and held Belinda in another.

"Good for us, it keeps us employed longer," Penelope joked. She gently bounces Caroline, while her other hand holds Amelia's leading strings. "Looks like you won't be the baby for long young miss."

Kate grinned. "That it does."

The two lead the children down to the family drawing room where Simon was waiting. After that they were temporarily free for probably most of the afternoon if this was like the other visits from the duchess' family. Not that Kate and Penelope haven't really had any more than brief glimpses at the infamous Bridgertons.

After that Kate went to take a walk while Penelope went down to the kitchen for some leftovers cook left since she missed breakfast.

Enter Anthony and Colin.

Anthony had ridden separate from his family as he had to make a stop on the way for business. Unfortunately this also meant that Anthony had gotten caught in the rain on his way. Colin had gotten back just in time for them to leave and had not yet had a chance to change out of his traveling clothes nor a chance to really eat anything. Suffice to say they did not really look like sons of a high bred family.

Kate just happened to be passing by when Anthony rode up to Clyvedon.

Kate had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow at the soaked man who was foolish to ride out into the rain. If she had to guess he may have been one of the tenets. Just as they always did during the first day of guest arriving, the duke and duchess gave strict orders that they are not to be disturbed.

"Excuse me," the man said. "You could you direct me to where Simon and Daphne are?"

Kate was taken aback. She has never heard of a tenet being so informal. "I'm sorry sir, but their graces are not seeing to any business today. The duchess' family had arrived today."

The tenet looked annoyed. "I assure you they are expecting me."

"Sir," Kare sighed, then yelled when he pushed past her. "Sir!"

That's when Kate heard the bell designated for the nurses and governesses. Well fine, she'll just let her employers handle the tenet.

Meanwhile Colin had sneaked down to the kitchen. He was a growing boy after all, and he hadn't eaten all day.

He was surprised to see a cute red down there happily eating an eclair.

"Is there anymore?" Colin asked her.

Penelope jumped, just barely catching the custard that fell. Turning towards Colin she did in fact raise an eyebrow. She has not seen this man before. Penelope could place almost all the servants at Clyvedon by face and she has seen this one. Plus his clothing does not look like anything any of the servants would be wearing. Nor is he looking at her food like anyone else she has met before.

"I'm sorry sir, but this was the only one Cook had set aside. The rest are being served to her grace's family," Penelope said.

The man's eyes lit up at the mere mention of more food. "Really? Oh must show me where they are!"

What was this man? Some kind of interloper? Penelope would rather not show him where the duke and duchess are, but blast. It looks like she might not have a choice. That was the bell to summon her and Kate. Well hopefully if he does follow the duke will take care of it.

Kate and Penelope met at the entrance of the drawing room both of them looking at their partner with a questioning look at the strange man following.

Before Kate or Penelope could stop them the tenet and the interloper both walk into the drawing room.

"Anthony!"

"Colin!"

Oh fuck, Kate and Penelope knew those names. Those were the names of the duchess' brothers, the Viscount Bridgerton and the third Bridgerton. And now among the rest of their siblings Kate and Penelope could see the resemblance.

[cypanache]

Im joining the Obidala fandom and I read your unintended Obidala story and I gotta say, I love it!! And the artwork is beautiful!!!

First and most important ... Welcome to Obidala!!! I obviously adore this tugboat of a ship, but even moreso I adore this little corner of the fandom. We are a small but dedicated group. I just really came to Star Wars in 2022 post OWK and everyone here has truly been so lovely. Please don't be a stranger. Come flail with us. I can talk about these two endlessly in every possible permutation.

Second, isn't the art amazing?! It's not mine. The credit for all that extra yumminess that just adds to the experience goes to my bestie and writing muse @alabama-metal-man. Without whom this story would not exist.

Finally, I'm so happy you're enjoying Unintended. It's my ode to what happened to my brain when I watch OWK and became obsessed with Obidala in the exact same month I watched the first two seasons of Bridgerton, and I've been humbled by it's reception so far. I know it's been awhile since I updated, but I've been actively working on the next few parts, pulling things together from snippets that had been posted on tumblr previously and fleshing them out. It's been slow going because of work life stuff, but rest assured I have not gone anywhere and it is coming.

[stars-of-kyber]

Lost, Drifting - Chapter 1 - Soldier Side

"Anthony Sharma could not remember anything from his life. Well, not anything before Kate had found him in the Sharma’s estate, bleeding and bruised nearly to death four years ago. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember much of that either.

___________________________________________________ Colin discovered his brother was alive four years after he was declared presumed dead. But what happened to Anthony in that time?"

Have just updated Lost Drifting.

Frennie, @waterlilyrose and @kateandanthonyaremyparents, wouldn't have done it without you. Thank you so very much <3

Part 1 of understanding how Anthony ended up in the situation we see him in the ending of the prologue.

Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

[timaeuslover001]

Colin Bridgerton and Marina Headcanon (AU)

(in now way ado is hip them but I thin this would have added some more substance to why Colin might fall for her and some bonding material )

Marina could sing just like Colin and she first found out when she heard him singing a bar of a song at a party and she saw as an opportunity to bond and he was elated.

And so when they would spend time together they would sing together and they sounded amazing together, she would harmonize effortlessly.

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Can you guess who my favorite Bridgeton ship is based on this Nozelena Bridgeton AU doodle?

Inspired by @jaycrakhead's Bridgeton AU on twitter

Reference below the cut (but try guessing yourself)

[lawonderlandwriter]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen Characters: Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia), Rhaella Targaryen (Wife of Aerys II), Viserys Targaryen (Brother of Daenerys), Olenna Tyrell, Cersei Lannister Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Regency, Regency Era, Alternate Universe - Bridgerton (TV) Fusion, Daenerys as Daphne, Jon as Simon, NO rape or no-con, Eventual Smut, slowish burn, depends on how long it takes me to write it really, age history and relationship changes for my own convenience, Don't Like Don't Read, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Targaryen incest is still a thing and totally acceptable, copy pasta the Bridgerton script in places, if that's not your thing you don't have to read Summary:

Jon and Dany's ruse gets more complicated than either of them expected as Ser Jorah refuses to be set aside so easily.

[aster-saturn]

Dearest reader

Since the season of request For chats Is open, this writter has come to ask for an idea.

Now, with the arrive of the hype For the new season of Bridgerton, may I ask...

What about an AU, like Prince Randy, where our favorite character Will be a wealthy and charmming noble who Is looking to courtship the Usser during the season.

Drama, tea, gossip...

Well I hope don't bother you anymore my dearest reader, and thank you For your Time

Yours truly

Lady Whistledown

Wow this ask is... So beautifully written.

Funny thing is, I never watched Bridgeton and I don't intend of doing so just yet but...

Bridgeton was the main inspiration for Prince Randy.

Now isn't that amusing?

✦Regal Revery✦

In the grand halls of Norrisville Castle, the Season has begun. Nobles from across the kingdom and beyond have gathered for a series of balls, soirees, and events designed to forge alliances and marriages. The air is thick with anticipation as young royals and aristocrats seek to find suitable matches. Amidst this, Prince Randy Cunningham has his eyes set on courting you, the most captivating debutante of the season.

[bridgertonbabe]

How do Edmund and Violet adopt the Crane twins once Eloise and Phillips relationship is out in the open?

How important is it for Eloise that the twins are accepted by her family?

Seeing as Violet had experienced a vision of Eloise and Phillip getting together after seeing them chatting at Daphne's wedding, she knew the babies Phillip would soon become father to would end up becoming her step-grandchildren and so she went out of her way early on to offer Phillip and Eloise support once her daughter moved in with the new dad.

She'd invite them over to Aubrey Hollow and offer to look after the twins if they needed a day of respite, an offer that the pair were relieved to take advantage of so they could have a chance to catch up on housework. From the very beginning neither Violet nor Edmund treated the twins any differently from their own biological grandchildren, making just as big a fuss over them when they were babysitting, and even when they had Amelia, Belinda, and Neddy also under their roof (they absolutely loved hosting a creche full of grandbabies) they were all treated equally.

And while Eloise worries that the twins might not be as readily accepted into the family fold as the rest of her nieces and nephews are, she soon realises she had nothing to be anxious about when Oliver and Amanda are gifted hand-knitted jumpers by Violet with their initials sewn on at Christmas; a Bridgerton tradition that assures Eloise that the twins are very much already part of the family.

[snowbellewells]

@kmomof4 Ooh, and the plot thickens!! I’m still loving it 🥰 and this one didn’t push me to the brink of tears, but you’ve introduced several interesting plot threads that I am sure we’ll see play out as the fic continues. Killian’s return to England and his realization that he still loves Emma and always will, probably until the day he dies. Emma’s determination that she doesn’t want to remain alone, she wants a child, and with that the awareness that she will have to remarry. The prospect of a happy and compatible but not a True Love match, and the worry that she might marry to have a child and then be unable to conceive or carry that child. All that, and then Emma’s sudden awareness of Killian in a completely different light than she has seen him before!! 😍😍😍 I am here for all of it and how it plays out!!!

I adored Emma’s mother Ruth so much!! Just as I loved your writing of Killian’s mother in your last Bridgerton-themed fic, this time, it is Lady Nolan who is impossible not to love! Her greeting Killian and his playful flattery was irresistible!! So much fun to read!!

I also loved how Emma and Killian were able to at least take a walk together and reclaim some of the friendship and closeness they’d once had. That understanding of each other is beautiful- even though I can already see that they are both going to be struggling to hide something huge now. Something the other wouldn’t judge them for - would actually be relieved by- but guilt won’t let them speak aloud. This is going to be an angsty twisty-tangle (and I am all about seeing them eventually find a way to unravel it together).

That bit with her mother saying to Emma the very thing she had always likened her connection with Killian to, and saying it as what she might hope to find in marrying again. Wow! That just blew my mind - wonderful!!

And this had to be my favorite bit- though there were several in the running: “He sounded sad to her ears. Regretful almost. Perhaps he was sorry he’d stayed away so long. Perhaps he’d missed her… home, rather. But she couldn’t ask him. Not now. Not here. Not with this tension between them. When they’d parted badly four years ago, they’d both been wounded animals, lashing out at those closest to them, but she had hoped that seeing him again would be easier than this. She’d certainly imagined it enough times. He couldn’t stay away forever. She’d always known there would come a day when he returned, and the reality of what she was experiencing now was the furthest from what she expected when he did. She wanted nothing more than her best friend back.”

Okay, I’m done, I’m just going to start rambling and typing a lot of heart emojis if I carry on, but I can’t wait to see what happens next. You are CRUSHING this fic, Krystal!!

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? Ch. 2

We are back with a new chapter!! Y'all!!!!! I am BLOWN AWAY by your enthusiasm for this fic!!!! Thank you all so very VERY much!!!! I hope you enjoy this new chapter and let me know what you think!!!

Thank you again to @jrob64 for her beta services and to @hollyethecurious and @winterbaby89 for listening to me whine. And I can't forget @motherkatereloyshipper for her beautiful artwork she did for the fic!!! Thank you all, ladies!!!

Chapter summary: Four years after Liam's death and Killian runs away to India, Emma and Killian both arrive in London for the new social season.

Words: Approx 7800 of approx 59,5k

Rating: M (smut in later chs)

Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's Story, Smut in Later Chs.

On ao3 Current ch / From the beginning

On Tumblr Prologue

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

4yrs. later

It had been too long. Killian knew that. Four years in India. But, according to the letters his mother religiously sent, everything was fine back home. Emma excelled in the running of the earldom, so there was nothing to feel guilty about for staying away so long. 

But he couldn’t stay away forever. When he’d come to India four years before - oh, hell, let’s be honest. When he’d run away to India four years before - it was with no more purpose than to get away from Emma. He couldn’t be near her. With her complete ignorance of his feelings for her, it wasn’t necessarily better for him to put eight thousand miles between them, but it was certainly easier. But once he arrived, to his great surprise, he found another purpose. He could see now why Liam had taken his seat in Parliament so seriously. When he arrived four years ago, he’d only had a name of a Royal Navy buddy who’d moved to Madras three years earlier. But within a month, he’d been appointed to a governmental post and was making decisions that actually mattered. It had given him a new purpose and a new outlook on life. Of course, it did nothing to curb his rakish tendencies, but over the years it had given him a sense of balance. It had given him time to actually make something of himself. And now… now that he was used to being addressed as Kilmartin - without looking over his shoulder for his beloved brother - it was time to actually return home and take up the duties of the earl.

He’d have to face her, of course. Maybe four years was enough time away from her that his heart could handle the rigors of being in close proximity with the one he loved. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he no longer loved her. He was quite sure he’d love her until the day he departed this earth. But maybe now - with the grief no longer so raw - maybe now he could be Emma’s friend, as she so ardently desired in those dark days after Liam’s death. 

Either way, he was glad it would be March when he disembarked. Too early for Emma to have arrived in London for the season. Because honestly, there was truly nothing more frightening - not war, not an Indian tiger - than facing Emma Nolan Jones.

Decision made, he instructed a quite relieved Smee to book them passage on the Princess Amelia. He was going home.

~*~*~

Emma wanted a baby.

It wasn’t a new desire, but it had rather snuck up on her and it was only now that she could actually say it… out loud… to herself. Or not exactly say it, but at least think it… out loud… to herself. In a manner of speaking. Pun not intended.

It had begun innocently enough. A pang in her heart when she read a missive from her sister-in-law Mary Margaret, married to her eldest brother David, telling her all about their son, Leo’s latest escapades. He was nearly three and already giving them fits.

Then when her elder sister, Regina, descended upon Kilmartin Estate in Scotland with her brood of three - Richard age eight, Roland age five, and little Rebekah only eighteen months - she’d been amazed at how the Locksley children transformed Kilmartin. There was noise, and laughter, that had been sorely lacking for years. Likely since Liam and Killian were boys.

When they left, it was quiet. Not peaceful. Just silent. 

And Emma was changed.

Now, when she saw a nursemaid pushing a pram, her heart ached. If she saw a rabbit cross a path, she missed a small someone beside her to point it out to. When she visited her family in London, and all her nieces and nephews finally left for the evening, she lay in her bed and realized that if she didn’t do something to change it, her life never would change. She’d live this life and eventually die. 

Alone. 

Not unhappy - her life was far too full and enjoyable for that - but alone. In the four years that Liam and Killian had been gone, she’d grown into her role as Countess Kilmartin, the sole caretaker of the holdings and land. Killian had never married after leaving for India, so she had retained all her duties as Countess. He’d left instructions for her to run the earldom as she saw fit and hadn’t interfered since. It was a precious gift that Killian had given her. She realized that now, even if it took her a long time to forgive him for leaving her in the first place. It gave her a purpose. A goal. A reason to stop staring at the ceiling. 

She had friends and a wonderful family, both the Nolan and Jones sides, but the only thing missing, the one thing that would make her truly happy, was a baby. Which meant, of course, that she’d have to remarry. 

Emma sighed as she considered it. It seemed a bit strange to imagine herself married to anyone but Liam. Potentially bearing a child that wouldn’t look like him. But if she wanted a baby, there was really no way around it. Even four years later, her wardrobe still consisted mostly of the grays and lavenders of half-mourning. She was going to need a whole new wardrobe for the approaching season if she was going to put herself on the marriage mart. She’d buy green, to match her eyes. She’d buy blue, pink, and yellow, her favorite color. She might even buy - she shivered in anticipation just thinking about it - red.

The decision was made. She’d go down to London a month early and prepare to find herself a husband.

And that was that.

~*~*~

It was absolutely frigid. And it was entirely her fault. She’d forgotten to send notice that she’d be arriving early for the London season, so when she arrived at Kilmartin House, she found only the skeleton crew of staff and the stores of coal and candles perilously low.

She’d been assured that all would be rectified on the morrow, once the housekeeper and butler made a mad dash to Bond St, but for now, she shivered under the blankets on her bed. The housekeeper had offered to collect all the coal she could find for Emma’s bedchamber, but Countess or no, she wasn’t so high and mighty that she’d condemn the staff to a freezing night just so she could be comfortable. And anyway, the room was so large, it was always difficult to heat properly unless the rest of the house was warm as well.

The library. The library was small enough and with the door closed, a fire in the grate would keep the room quite cozy indeed. Plus there was a small settee she could lay on. She climbed out of bed and wrapped her robe around herself before peeking out into the quiet hallway. 

She tiptoed down the hall and then the stairs, the heavy wool socks she wore slipping on the polished surface. She opened the door to the library and stifled a scream. A man stood in front of a cheery fire, warming his hands. Her head darted left and right, searching for anything she might use as a weapon when the man turned. Emma gasped.

“Killian?”

~*~*~

He hadn’t known she was in London. He hadn’t even considered she might be in London. Dammit, what was she doing in London? Not that it would have made any difference in whether he came back or not, but he at least might have been prepared. Prepared to be the charming and irredeemable rake she knew him to be.

But no. Here he was just gaping at her, trying desperately not to notice she wore nothing more than a sheer red gown and night robe, where he could just see the outline of the curve of her… don’t look, Don’t Look, DON’T LOOK…

“Killian?” she asked again.

“Emma,” he greeted, because he had to say something, “what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” she asked, her whisper a bit more strident this time. “What are you doing here? I’m not the one supposed to be in India.”

Killian shrugged as casually as he could manage it and turned back to the fire. “Thought it was time to come home, was all.”

“Couldn’t you have written? Informing us you were coming?”

He raised an eyebrow sardonically before he replied. “To you?” It was a direct hit and he knew it. He only felt a little dismayed at her hard swallow of guilt. He’d written to her a few times after he left for India, but when it became clear that she wasn’t going to reply, he maintained his correspondence through his mother.

“To anyone.” Her whisper was hushed now and Killian brushed aside the guilt her quiet accusation engendered. “We could have had the house ready for you.”

He shrugged again. “It’s ready enough.”

“Someone could have been here to meet you.”

He couldn’t help the smirk that lifted the corner of his lips. “You’re here.”

She huffed indignantly. “You still could have written. It’s only courteous.”

“Emma,” he said, exasperated. “Do you have any idea how long it takes a letter to get here from India?”

“Five months,” she answered, promptly. “Four, with favorable winds.”

“By the time I decided to come, it wouldn’t have done any good. The letter would have gone out on the same ship I was on.” He paused for a moment. “And does it really matter?”

Now it was Emma’s turn to shrug. “I suppose not.” She smiled gently at him and that damned place behind his ear itched. “It is good to have you back. Your mother will be thrilled.” He turned back to the fire, the better to hide the grim smile on his face.

“Yes,” he murmured, “I’m sure she will be.”

“As am I-I,” she stammered, “of course.”

She didn’t really sound as if she meant her words, but he decided to be a gentleman and not point it out. 

“Are you cold?” he asked, instead.

“No,” she said quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

“You’re lying.”

She shrugged and looked sheepish. “Maybe?”

“For heaven's sake, Emma. If you’re cold, come warm yourself by the fire. I won’t bite.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, in a move to put him firmly back on the solid ground of their relationship four years ago. “Unless you ask me to.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she approached and Killian’s smile became more genuine. After a few moments of companionable silence, Emma spoke.

“You look well.”

“As do you.”

“It’s been a long time.”

He sighed before replying. “It has. Four years.”

He sounded sad to her ears. Regretful almost. Perhaps he was sorry he’d stayed away so long. Perhaps he’d missed her… home, rather. But she couldn’t ask him. Not now. Not here. Not with this tension between them. When they’d parted badly four years ago, they’d both been wounded animals, lashing out at those closest to them, but she had hoped that seeing him again would be easier than this. She’d certainly imagined it enough times. He couldn’t stay away forever. She’d always known there would come a day when he returned, and the reality of what she was experiencing now was the furthest from what she expected when he did. She wanted nothing more than her best friend back.

“So what are your plans?” she asked.

“Beyond getting warm?” he muttered.

She couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips. “It is indeed chilly for this time of year.”

“I came home because I couldn’t stand the blasted heat anymore,” he said. “And here I am about to perish from the cold.”

“But it will be spring soon,” she tried to placate him.

“Ah, yes,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Where the winds will merely be frigid instead of icy.”

She turned to look at him then. The light from the fire danced across his visage, creating shadows that made his features difficult to decipher. But this close to him, she could see that he had changed, however subtly. He was deeply tanned, of course, scandalously so, and the hair at his temples had just a touch of silver. But beyond that, he held himself differently. The smooth, effortless grace with which he moved was gone and now he seemed rigid. Tight. Like he was preparing himself for a blow.

The corner of her lips twisted into a smirk. “I suppose so. But Miss Blue has assured me the house will be restocked tomorrow. I only just arrived this evening as well, after failing to give notice.”

They were quiet for a few more moments. “So what are you doing here?” he asked again.

She turned to him, surprised. But then realized she’d never answered his initial question.

“I live here.”

“But you don’t usually come down until April.” Her jaw dropped and he realized he’d need to explain how he knew that information. “Mother’s letters were remarkably detailed.”

“I see.” She moved closer to the fire and Killian sighed in agitation. She really didn’t need to be standing so close to him.

“Soooo?” he repeated.

She turned to him again, shocked to see how very close they were now standing. She pulled her robe more closely around herself and took a step away. She wasn’t ready to share her true reasons for coming to London early. Goodness, she’d only just recently admitted them to herself. But he was waiting and she couldn’t just let the question linger between them.

“I felt like it,” she said with a shrug, and with as much haughtiness as she could muster. 

Killian nodded. He was glad she’d stepped away from him, however small the step might be. She was now out of his reach, and that was a very good thing. She was going to have to be the one to establish their boundaries, because there was no way he’d be up to the task. 

They were silent for a few more minutes in front of the grate before he excused himself and adjourned to his bedchamber.

Once he was cocooned in more blankets than he’d ever remembered needing before, sleep was elusive. She was different, he realized. Not in her appearance. She hadn’t changed at all. She was still his beautiful Emma with eyes as green as the jungles of India, porcelain skin, and golden hair that seemed to capture what little sunshine England saw in a year. But inside, she was changed. Killian had always prided himself on being able to read Emma like an open book, and what he saw in her now terrified him.

There was an air of availability surrounding her, as if she had truly moved on from his brother. And the only thing keeping him from reaching out right now and touching her was the physical distance between them and his own conscience.

Four years was obviously not enough time away from Emma for his heart to handle being this close to her again. And he had no idea what he was to do with that knowledge. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

~*~*~

The next morning, when Killian finally arose, the house was fully back in order, as befit the home of an earl. There was a fire in every grate and a splendid proper English breakfast was prepared - coddled eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, toast with butter and marmalade, as well as his personal favorite, boiled mackerel. Even if it did make him realize he missed the yogurts and dosas of his Indian morning meal. 

Emma was nowhere to be seen and he realized why when he opened the folded note handed to him by Smee as he sat down to eat. Concerned about the wagging tongues of the ton, Emma had removed herself to her mother’s house at 5 Bruton St, until such time as Alice Jones arrived from Scotland. She did invite him to visit her there, as there was much for them to discuss.

As soon as he finished his quite excellent breakfast, he walked to the dowager viscountess’ house. It felt good to reacquaint himself with the rhythm of London - the sights of the city, the smells of roasted nuts and soot in the air, the sounds of his boots on the street, the shouts of the flower sellers, the clip clop of horses hooves. It was strange, but no more strange than when he’d first arrived in India. It all wove together in a symphony that was uniquely London. It was going to take some getting used to. 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the window of a shop along the way. The tan he now sported would take weeks to fade. Maybe months. His mother would be positively scandalized. The thought made a cheeky smirk bloom across his face. He was quite sure he’d never outgrow the enjoyment of scandalizing his mother.

He arrived at Number 5 and climbed the steps to the front door. He was obviously expected because he hadn’t even the chance to rap on the door before it swung open. The dowager viscountess was already in her receiving room, pouring herself tea when he entered the room.

“Killian!” she exclaimed, rising from her chair beneath the window. “How wonderful to see you in London again!”

She greeted him with all the affection she would shower on a wayward son, which, given her very wide definition of “family”, was not at all unexpected. She considered Liam a son, and since he was his brother and such a frequent companion to Liam and Emma, Killian was automatically invited to anything they were invited to. Which, of course, was everything. He took her outstretched hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“Lady Nolan,” he murmured.

She smiled as if she knew all the secrets in the world, and couldn’t wait to share them. “No one does that the way you do,” she said, approvingly.

“One must always take care to practice one’s maneuvers,” he replied, rakish smirk set upon his lips. 

“And I can’t tell you how we ladies of a certain age appreciate you doing so.”

His grin widened. “A certain age being… one and thirty?”

Lady Nolan was the sort of woman who only grew lovelier with age, but the smile she graced him with now made her positively radiant. “You are always welcome in this house, Killian Jones.” His smile turned genuine as he took his seat. “Oh, dear,” she continued, “I do apologize. I suppose I should call you Kilmartin now.”

“Killian is just fine,” he assured her.

“I know it's been four years, but since I haven’t seen you…”

“You may call me anything you wish.” It was strange, and not exactly pleasant, to hear his title on Lady Nolan’s lips. He’d finally become used to it down in India, but here, it was rather unnerving. He didn’t mean to interrupt her, but he truly didn’t want to hear his title coming out of her mouth. 

If she was aware of his discomfort with the conversation, she gave no indication. “Well, if you are to be so accommodating, then I must be as well. Please call me Ruth.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” he began. And he meant it. This was Lady Nolan, and he could never call her by her Christian name.

“I insist, Killian,” she said, “and I’m sure you’re aware that I almost always get my way.”

He sighed, very much aware of the veracity of that statement. “I don’t know that I could kiss the hand of a Ruth. It seems scandalously intimate.”

“Don’t you dare stop,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

“Tongues will wag,” he tried again.

“I’m certain my reputation could withstand it.”

“Ah, but could mine?” he asked.

“You are a scoundrel,” she laughed.

He sat back in his chair, a smile on his face. “It serves me well.”

“Would you care for tea?” she asked, motioning to the pot she’d just been about to pour when he arrived. “Mine has gone cold, I’m sure, but I’ll gladly ring for more.”

“I’d love some.”

She pulled the rope, summoning the butler. “I’m sure you’re spoiled for it now, after four years of tea in India.”

“There’s nothing quite like English tea,” he assured her.

“The quality of the water, do you think?” she asked.

“The quality of the woman pouring,” he replied, a soft smile on his lips.

She laughed, delightedly. “Oh, my lord, you need a wife. Immediately.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because you are clearly a danger to every unmarried woman in England.”

“I do hope you are including yourself in that number,” he said, eyebrows waggling.

“Are you flirting with my mother?” a new voice asked.

Killian looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, looking exquisite in a lavender morning dress, trimmed with remarkably intricate lace that, if he had to guess, probably came from the finest lace maker in France. She was trying to look stern, but the twisting of the corner of her lips belied her countenance. Killian rose and took the hand she offered him, brushing his lips across her knuckles, the same way he’d done with her mother a few minutes earlier.

“Emma,” he began, “I have traveled all over the world, and I can truly say there are very few women with whom I’d rather flirt than your mother.”

“You are expected for dinner this evening, Killian Jones,” Ruth interjected. “And I will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

He chuckled as he resumed his seat. “I’d be delighted.”

Emma sat across from the pair. “You’re incorrigible,” she murmured.

Killian flashed her a grin. This was good. They were falling right back into their respective roles. He as the dashing and charming rapscallion, she as the proper lady pretending to scold him. Exactly the way it’d been before Liam died. The night before, he’d been surprised to see her and hadn’t had time to make sure his public persona was firmly in place. And it was of utmost importance that it was in place around Emma, because he could never allow her to see what simmered just below the surface.

“What plans do you have now that you’ve returned?” Ruth asked as a maid arrived with the tea tray.

“My goodness, that was quick,” Killian commented, as Emma prepared his tea. She remembered how he took it - milk, no sugar - and for some reason that pleased him immensely. He took it from her hands and then addressed Ruth’s question. “I’m not sure, actually. I’ve been gone so long, I imagine it will take some time to fully understand what is expected of me in my new role.”

“I’m sure Emma will be invaluable to you in that quarter,” Ruth assured him. Killian’s eyes cut to Emma, who was now pouring her own tea and studiously avoiding his gaze. “No one knows Kilmartin like Emma does,” she continued, pride in every word.

“Of course,” Emma murmured, still not looking at him. “I’ll be happy to help you in any way I can.”

Killian took a sip of his tea before speaking. “I owe you a debt I could never repay, Emma.” She turned her head sharply toward him, her mouth slightly open in surprise. “For four years you’ve not only been the countess, but the earl as well. In everything but name. I’d never have been able to stay away for so long if the earldom had not been in such capable hands.”

Emma blushed at his praise, which surprised him greatly. In all the years he’d known her, he could count on one hand the number of times her cheeks had turned pink.

“Thank you,” she murmured, before taking a sip of her tea. “It was no difficulty, I assure you.”

“Perhaps, but it is truly appreciated all the same.” He took another sip and sat back as the ladies directed the conversation. 

Soon, Killian found himself telling the ladies about his time in India - his experiences, the atmosphere, the food he ate, the job he had. He left out his romantic exploits, the marauders, and malaria, deciding they weren’t suitable for tea time conversation. He enjoyed himself immensely and realized that yes, it was good to be home.

~*~*~

An hour later, Emma found herself on Killian’s arm as they strolled through Hyde Park. The sun had come out and she’d declared that they simply must take advantage of the lovely weather. Killian, ever the gentleman, offered to accompany her.

“It’s just like old times, isn’t it?” she asked.

“What?” he replied. “Walking through Hyde Park with me, or how you cleverly arranged for me to accompany you?”

A satisfied smirk touched her lips. “Why, both, of course.” They continued to walk in silence for a few moments. “I hope you understand my reasons for leaving ,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to. I really do enjoy being my own woman and mistress of the house, and moving back under my mother’s roof with Ruby in residence as well, just makes me feel a child again.”

“Would you like me to take up residence elsewhere?” he asked.

“Oh, heavens, no! You’re the earl! Kilmartin House is yours,” she asserted. “Besides, Alice will be here any day, I’m sure. She said she’d be a week behind me, but we both know a week means four days, at most. And as soon as she is here, I’ll move back in.” 

“I’m sure you will survive,” he chuckled.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Of course I will,” she agreed. “It’s just it makes me feel like I’m in my debut season, with all its rules and expectations.”

Killian shrugged. “Well, not all of them, obviously. If that were true, you wouldn’t be out walking with me.”

“True,” she allowed. She subtly bumped his shoulder, an amused smirk on her face. “Especially with you.”

“Now, what’s that supposed to mean?” He almost sounded indignant, and Emma had to quickly disguise her laugh as a cough.

She cut her eyes over to him, to see his jaw clenched and the small muscle jumping in irritation. Did her statement really bother him so much?

“Come now, Killian,” she tried to appease him. “You didn’t really think your reputation would suddenly become whiter than snow just because you were gone for so long, did you?”

“Emma…”

“Killian, you are a legend. Women still talk about you.”

He looked absolutely shocked at her words, with no small amount of dismay also circulating in his cerulean gaze.

“Not to you, I hope.”

“Oh, to me above all others,” she informed him, haughtily. “I’m the closest family you have here in London and they all want to know when you will be returning. Which, of course, now that you have… let the feeding frenzy begin!” She couldn’t help it, she was feeling quite pleased with herself for apparently striking terror into the heart of her dearest friend. He’d always been known as a dashing rapscallion without a care in the world, and now that he’d arrived home and seemed ready to take up his duties, his rank would undoubtedly make him the catch of the season. 

“Yes, you will have to marry,” she continued, thoroughly enjoying his apparent discomfort, “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Killian sputtered indignantly. “I’m two and thirty!”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed. “But as the earl, you need to marry and beget an heir. The mamas will be falling all over themselves trying to introduce you to their whiney and insipid daughters.”

“I feel very afraid.” His resigned but somehow completely expressionless face made her giggle.

“Oh, you should be,” she assured him. “You’re quite fortunate that I told my mother this morning before you arrived that she was not to push Ruby on you. Because she’d do it. In a heartbeat. Not that Ruby is whiney and insipid, but…” she trailed away meaningfully.

“Heaven forbid if any Nolan female was anything less than witty and engaging.” She shot him a look, not entirely sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Hmmmmm,” she mused. “I believe I shall introduce you to…”

“Emma Nolan Jones,” he interrupted, bringing them to a stop near the Serpentine and turning to face her. “You are not to play matchmaker for me. Is that understood?” She opened her mouth to respond but he spoke again before she could get a word out. “And don’t you say that someone has to. I am a grown man and can handle myself when it comes to all that.”

Really, he thought with amusement, she hadn’t changed a bit. Always wanting to manage the people around her. She was quite the open book to him, and that hadn’t changed either.

“Killiannn,” she began, drawing out the final sound so she sounded like a petulant teen rather than the grown woman she was.

“I have been back in town for less than one day. One day,” he repeated, as he led them to a small bench next to the path. “It doesn’t matter that the sun is out, I am cold, I am tired, and not a single thing has been unpacked from my journey. Please give me at least a week before you start planning my wedding.”

“A week then,” she said slyly as she took her seat, looking far too pleased with herself.

“Emma,” he said, warning lacing his tone.

“Oh, very well,” she conceded. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Once you attend your first society function and the mamas are circling like sharks before coming in for the kill, you’ll be begging for my help.”

He shuddered at the image, and the knowledge that she was probably quite correct.

“I’m sure I will,” he placated, with a patronizing smile on his face he knew she’d detest. “And when it happens, I promise that I shall be duly prostrate with apologies and will beseech almighty God that according to your tender mercies, you will not leave me to the sharks of the ton.”

She laughed then and his smile turned genuine. He could always make her laugh, and it brought him far more joy and comfort at the moment than he should have allowed it to.

“It’s good to have you back, Killian.”

“It’s good to be back.” He said the words without thinking, automatically, but as soon as they left his lips, he realized he meant them. It was good to be back. It might be difficult, yes, but it wasn’t any more than what it had been before he left. Her smile was soft and genuine, none of the sly mischievousness that was such a part of her. She really was glad to have him back and that did more to warm his heart than any of their interactions so far. 

She turned toward the Serpentine and focused her attention there, nodding her head absently. He looked in the same direction and couldn’t see anything that might have attracted and held her attention like that. He only saw a rather sour faced nursemaid pushing a pram. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked. She didn’t speak, but continued to nod absently. He wasn’t even sure she realized she was doing it. “Emma?”

She turned to him suddenly, her green eyes bright. “I want a baby.”

“I beg your pardon?” If she had suddenly announced that she planned to run away to America, he could not have been more surprised.

“A baby,” she repeated. “Lots of women want to have children,” she insisted. “Is it truly a surprise that I would as well?”

“W-well,” he stammered, quite at a loss of what to say in response. “I- I don’t suppose so…”

“I’m not getting any younger, either,” she continued. “Why, my mother was on her third child when she was my age.”

“Yes,” he interjected, finally pulling himself together enough to reply to her babbling, “but your mother was also married.”

“Well, of course she was,” she replied. “Why do you think I came down to London early? I’m looking for a husband.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he knew his face reflected that utter and complete surprise.

“Do you have a particular gentleman in mind?”

“Not at the moment, no,” she allowed with a shrug of her shoulders, “but I’d imagine someone suitable would present themselves relatively quickly…” She trailed off and her face looked a bit pensive. He was still reeling from her pronouncement or he might have realized she was as shocked as he was that she’d actually said the words out loud.

“And that’s if I can even conceive in the first place,” she said softly, almost too softly to hear. “It took me two years with Liam, and look how I mucked that up.”

That got his attention. “Emma,” he said fiercely, facing her, “You cannot blame yourself for the miscarriage.”

“Can you imagine,” she said, a watery laugh bursting from her lips that she was helpless to keep inside, “marrying so that I might have a baby and then being unable to actually have one?”

“It happens all the time,” he said softly.

“I know!” she exclaimed. “But it’s my choice. I don’t have to remarry. I’d be able to remain independent, I am well provided for, I wouldn’t have to leave Kilmartin…” but her heart would have this ache for the rest of her life. And she wasn’t sure she could survive that. But was it worth marrying someone simply for the chance of being a mother? Because she certainly wouldn’t be marrying for love. She loved Liam with everything that was in her. One simply did not find two loves like that in a lifetime.

She sighed, and it sounded utterly forlorn to her ears. She was going to marry for a baby. And there was no guarantee she would get one.

“Emma?” 

She didn’t look at him, but sat staring straight ahead, furiously blinking away the tears in her eyes. Killian held out his handkerchief, but she didn’t take it. If she did, the dam would break. There’d be no stopping it.

“I must move on,” she asserted. “Liam has been gone for four years, and I…” She turned to him then and the words stopped. They simply disintegrated. She was caught completely unawares, the kind of shock that makes it hard to breathe.

Of course she knew what Killian looked like. Of course she knew he was handsome. Of course she knew among all the men of her acquaintance, there was no more perfect specimen of manhood than Killian Jones. Her brothers were all handsome men, but even they didn’t compare to Killian. His eyes were the color of a perfect summer sky, the scruff along his jaw had flecks of ginger among the black that matched his hair. His lips were full and lush, and her own dropped open with a small gasp.

“I must go,” she said, leaping up suddenly, hoping and praying that he didn’t notice the breathiness in her voice that was so apparent to her. “I forgot about an appointment with the modiste.”

“Of course,” he agreed, rising with her.

“All of my clothing is in half-mourning colors.” She knew she was rambling, but she had to say something to make the lie convincing. 

Killian frowned in distaste and if she hadn’t been so agitated, it might have made her laugh. “Get blue. And green to match your eyes,” he suggested.

“Yes, yes,” she said, still a bit off balance as she took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her back to Number Five. She had to maintain appearances. She couldn’t possibly allow him to guess what had just transpired on the banks of the Serpentine in her heart and mind.

For when Emma looked at Killian just then, for the very first time, she saw a man. And it scared the very devil out of her.

~*~*~

Emma was never one to sit still, a firm believer in staying busy, that the best course of action was more action. So as soon as she arrived home from her walk with Killian, she found her mother and informed her of her intention to visit the modiste. Immediately. Might as well make truth of her lie as quickly as possible.

Ruth was delighted to join her, of course. She couldn’t hide her joy at the prospect of seeing Emma out of the grays and lavenders of half-mourning. Normally, Emma would have resented shopping with her mother - she was perfectly capable of choosing her own wardrobe after all - but for some reason, the presence of her mother was strangely comforting today.

Emma looked out the window of the carriage as it rolled along towards the exclusive shops of Bond Street.

“Mother?” she asked, before she even realized she intended to speak.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why did you never remarry?”

Surprise colored Ruth’s face, her mouth falling open slightly, her eyes turning suspiciously bright. “That is the first time any of you have asked me that.” Her awe-infused words took Emma aback.

“None of us?” she asked incredulously. “Are you sure?” It seemed impossible. Emma believed her mother, but she couldn’t believe that not one of her five older siblings had ever thought to ask their mother the same question.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I’m quite certain. I would have remembered.”

“Yes, of course,” Emma murmured.

Ruth cleared her throat gently. “I don’t know how much you remember - you were very young - but when your father died, it was quite sudden. None of us expected it.” A sad chuckle broke from her lips before she continued. “A bee sting.” Even all these years later, Ruth still sounded surprised when she said the words. “Who would have thought such a strong, vital man would be brought down by something so small. So insignificant.” She paused and pulled out a white handkerchief, holding it close to her mouth as she cleared her throat. “Anyway, it was such a shock.” Then she turned soft and achingly wise eyes on her youngest daughter. “I expect you know better than anyone.”

Emma couldn’t speak and nodded slowly instead.

Ruth took a deep breath, obviously eager to move on from this aspect of the conversation. “Anyway, after Robert was gone, I was just so… stunned. There was no other word for it. I felt as if I was walking in a haze. Barely aware of anything going on around me. I’m not at all certain how I managed that first year. Or even the ones immediately thereafter, for that matter. I couldn’t possibly think of remarriage.”

“I know,” Emma replied, softly. Because, she did.

“And after that… I’m not quite sure why.” She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps I never found someone I wanted to share my life with. Maybe I just loved your father too much. But, you also have to remember, I was in a very different stage of life than you are. I was older, and the mother of six. Your father left our affairs in very good order. I knew we’d never want for anything.”

“Liam left Kilmartin in very good order,” she murmured.

“Of course, he did,” Ruth replied, quickly, reaching over to pat Emma’s hand reassuringly. “I didn’t mean to imply…”

“Of course not.”

“But you do not have children, Emma,” she continued, gently, “and quite a lot of years ahead of you to spend alone, if you do not remarry.”

“I know, I know,” she breathed, a sense of urgency lending a tone of near panic to her words. “It’s just… it’s just…” she repeated.

“It’s just, what, Emma?” her mother asked.

“I don’t… I don’t know…” The words loomed large in her heart and mind and Emma struggled to give them voice. Ruth remained silent, giving her time to bring her racing thoughts and feelings under control. She looked down and spoke to her hands, her words no louder than a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong. If I’m dishonoring Liam. Dishonoring our marriage.”

“There’s nothing wrong with remarrying, if that’s what you want to do, Emma,” Ruth counseled her. “Liam would want you to be happy. What makes you think you’d be dishonoring him or your marriage by remarrying?”

Emma looked up into her mother’s eyes, searching for something, she wasn’t sure what. Perhaps approval, perhaps love, because there was something supremely comforting about looking for something she knew beyond any doubt she’d immediately find.

“I- I know that I’ll never find anything like what I had with Liam,” she stammered. “You don’t find a love like that twice in a lifetime. I’ve accepted that. But, it feels wrong to marry for anything less.”

“I see,” Ruth replied. “Yes, it’s true, you’ll never find anyone like Liam. But,” she continued, “you might find someone who fits you in a different way. Rather like a puzzle piece you didn’t know you were missing.”

Emma looked sharply at her mother. “What did you say?”

“Just now?” she asked. “I said you might find someone who fits you a different way from Liam. Like a puzzle piece you didn’t know was missing.”

Emma was suddenly back to the night Liam died when she and Killian had taken an evening stroll. She remembered thinking that if Liam understood her like no other, then Killian completed her, like a puzzle piece she didn’t know was missing. Was there any possible way that Ruth could have guessed her earlier epiphany about Killian? Emma scrutinized her mother closely, trying hard not to draw her attention from where she sat looking out the window. She had no clue her words had affected Emma so much, so it would behoove her to redirect the conversation.

“I want a baby,” Emma burst out. “That’s why I want to remarry.”

Ruth turned soft eyes on her. “I thought you might.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“Why didn’t you ask why I never remarried?” Ruth’s face was utterly serene. No accusation or condemnation in her countenance. Emma shouldn’t have been surprised at the perceptiveness of her mother.

“If you had been either Regina or Ruby, I would have,” Ruth finally answered her question. “But you…” Her smile was soft and nostalgic now, “You were always different. Even as a child you held yourself apart. You needed your independence.”

Emma reached for her mother’s hand and squeezed. “I love you, you know that?”

“Well, I did suspect.”

“Mother!”

Ruth laughed. “Of course I knew it. How could you not love me?” She made a grand sweeping gesture toward herself, her eyes twinkling merrily. “With as wonderful as I clearly am!” They both giggled at the outrageously playful statement. “But truly,” her mother continued once their mutual mirth was under control. “Yes, I know you love me. As I love you. Very, very much.”

Emma’s chagrin showed on her face. “I haven’t told you. Recently anyway.”

“Well, you have been a bit occupied for a while.”

Emma looked down and covered the giggle that wanted to escape with a light cough. “May I ask you another question?”

“Of course, my dear.”

“If I don’t find someone… like the puzzle piece,” she took a gasping breath, “but I did find someone I rather liked, and married him… would that be alright?”

Ruth was silent for a long moment before she answered. “That is something that only you can answer, my love.” The look on her face was full of compassion and Emma felt the tears burning her eyes. “I would never say no, of course. Most of the gentry have marriages exactly like that, and they are perfectly content. But I would hope that my children wouldn’t have that situation as their fate. I would not call it dishonoring exactly to Liam, or to your marriage, but life is too short to settle for a marriage that doesn’t make you deliriously happy. Too short to settle for anything less than a relationship that would complete you. Yes, it will be different than Liam, but I believe you can find it.”

How did she know? How did she know the exact words to say that would bring Killian right back to the front of her mind? Yes, in many ways Killian did complete her, but could she love him? Love him the way she’d loved Liam? It truly didn’t seem possible, but in light of her mother’s words and her own thoughts over the years, perhaps it was worth considering. Even if she wasn’t sure she could live with herself afterward.

~*~*~

After Killian arrived back at Kilmartin House, he shut himself in his room, took off his boots, loosened his cravat, and moved to the window. He looked down to the street to see a nurse holding the hand of a small child. He had no experience with children whatsoever and was quite at a loss to guess the age of the child, but it wasn’t hard to guess that they might be on their way to Hyde Park. He grimaced.

Emma wanted a baby.

He didn’t know why he was surprised. She was a woman. And didn’t all women want to have children? And while he didn’t really think that Emma would pine away for Liam forever, it had never occurred to him that she might desire to remarry, either.

Liam and Emma were always a unit. And while Liam’s death did make it easier to think of one without the other, it was quite different to think of one of them with another.

Then there was the small matter of his skin crawling, his usual reaction to the thought of Emma with another man.

He shuddered. Or was that a shiver? Damn, he hoped it wasn't a shiver.

He supposed he’d have to get used to the idea. Emma wanted a baby. And to have a baby, she’d need a husband. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. If only she’d taken care of that last year. Then it would be over and done with by now. But as it was, he was going to have to watch.

Bloody hell.

He shivered again. Damn. Maybe he was just cold. It was March, after all, and a bloody chilly one, even with a fire in the grate. He pulled his cravat off on account of it feeling suddenly tight. He felt awful. Hot and cold at the same time, and off balance as well. He sat down for a few minutes, but then gave up all pretense of being well, stripped off his clothing and climbed into bed. 

It was going to be a long night.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! Next chapter will be up on Wednesday.