#violet bridgerton x marcus anderson

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x Marcus Anderson

SUMMARY — After the marriage of two of her children, Violet attends the last ball of the season, perhaps with an ulterior motive.

WORD COUNT — 2.6K

WARNINGS — none

NOTE — As promised, Violet stans (and Violet/Marcus shippers) this one's for you

With each passing year, Violet didn’t think the next marriage season could get busier than the one preceding, but every single time she was proven wrong. 

As much as she loved all of the organized chaos that came with having a daughter (or two) out in society, this time around, she felt a wave of relief wash over her once Francesca was married and everything had settled down with Colin and Penelope. 

No one blamed her when she took a few days to herself before continuing to engage in society, although she wasn’t particularly obliged to with her only daughter still out in society having gone to Scotland with her sister and new husband. 

“Mama, you’re going to a ball?” Hyacinth looked curiously at her mother. 

The youngest Bridgerton was ready for bed early which was rare, but she still clearly had her ear to the door, waiting for something interesting to happen. 

“Yes, it is the last one of the season, I thought it might be appropriate to attend,” she said. “And Lady Danbury is hosting.” 

“Are you sure you’re not going to see Lord Anderson?” Benedict said as he came inside, wiggling his eyebrows at his mother. 

“Benedict Bridgerton,” she gasped playfully. “You overstep. I am still your mother.” 

“Just be happy Anthony is on his way to India,” he chuckled and came over to her pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Will you be alright alone, or should I accompany you?” 

“I think I will survive,” she patted his arm. “Thank you for offering.” 

“I cannot wait until I can go to a ball,” Hyacinth huffed. 

“Soon enough, dearest,” Violet assured, coming to wrap her arms around her daughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “In the meantime you can practice dancing with your brother.” 

“Oh, could we Benedict?” Hyacinth looked up at him before he had the chance to slip away. 

“Alright, but just a few,” he chuckled, motioning for her to follow him and they wished their mother goodnight, hand in hand while she made her way to the carriage that was ready for her in front of the house. 

She watched as they passed by the homes in the square, the carriage taking its familiar twists and turns until she reached the Danbury Estate. 

One of her carriage drivers helped her climb out and she took her evening gloves, slipping them on before she entered inside her friend's home. 

She found her eyes widening at the sight, the brightly lit room was covered with flowers and greenery, spilling out of every corner and crevice. It was wild and regal all at the same time, and Violet’s lips pulled into a smile, Lady Danbury had outdone herself again. 

Her reaction was noted by some of the other mamas and transitioned easily into a brief hello and conversation about the decor and what a wonderful season it had been. 

Violet’s eyes eventually trailed away from those she was conversing with, searching the room for a certain someone, but unable to find who she was looking for and in turn, she politely excused herself from the conversation to serve herself some lemonade. As she poured the drink into her cup she heard a familiar voice behind her. 

“I wasn’t sure if I would see you here tonight.” 

“And miss your ball?” Violet asked, a smile on her face as she turned around meeting Lady Danbury’s gaze before it moved to the decorations around her again. “You really have done something magnificent with this Agatha.” 

“Well, I will admit I did have a bit of help,” she said. “Although if anyone asks-” 

“It was all you,” Violet nodded her head and sipped her lemonade, a cheeky smile appearing on both of their faces. 

“And how are you?” Lady Danbury asked. “I must say no one was surprised by your absence the past little while, this season has been quite busy for you.” 

“Yes, it has indeed,” she nodded. “Francesca and Eloise are well on their way to Scotland, Colin and Penelope have been enjoying their honeymoon, and Kate and Anthony have left for India.” 

“It is quiet is it not?” Lady Danbury asked and Violet nodded her head. 

“Although I am left with the three most troublesome of the bunch, it is still…too silent. But do not tell them that they will surely come up with some scheme that will turn the house upside down.”

Lady Danbury chuckled at her friend’s comment then looked around at the crowd surrounding them. 

“So you came tonight for some noise as well?” 

Violet nodded her head. 

“Well, if the house stays too quiet, you are always welcome here and I’m sure we can make some noise of our own,” she teased. 

“Thank you, Agatha,” Violet nodded her head. “I will keep your offer in mind, but I do not wish to keep you tied to the refreshments table. I am sure there are others here who want to visit with such a splendid hostess.” 

Lady Danbury offered Violet one last smile before leaving her and continuing to make her rounds to her guests. 

Violet found herself stuck to one of the walls in the far end of the room, it brought her back to her years as a new debutante, either staying close to her father’s side or tucked away where she could observe what was happening. 

It was odd how much easier she found it to be outgoing when she had the cushion of her children. 

It didn’t take very long for her to feel as though maybe she needed a change of scenery and instead exited the main ballroom, heading for the terrace one stage lower that overlooked the gardens. 

There she removed her gloves and laid them across the balcony’s rail, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath of the fresh night air. 

The cool breeze nipped at her exposed skin, but made it all the more obvious when someone stood next to her, the warmth radiating off them in large contrast to the outside temperature. 

She carefully opened her eyes and looked over to her side seeing Marcus Anderson looking over the gardens. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, instead opting to take a lesson from her daughter’s book. Perhaps for now silence would do. 

As they stood together, the music coming from the ballroom could be faintly heard, an echo into the otherwise silent night. 

It made Violet think of the Dankworth-Finch ball and how nervously wonderful it had felt to dance again. She had paid such careful attention to her steps in the beginning, worried she might slip up on account of not practicing for the better part of a decade, but each movement came back to her with such ease it was as if she never stopped. 

A smile came over her face and an increase in confidence, possibly brought on by the lack of an audience, looking forward, not turning her gaze, she spoke up. 

“Ask me to dance.” 

Marcus turned his head to look at her, clearly not expecting such a direct statement. 

“I-Out here?” he looked at her curiously. “Or back inside because-” 

She now turned to face him properly, her whole body now pointed in his direction. 

“Ask me to dance,” she repeated simply. 

Marcus let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, extending a hand towards her.

“Lady Bridgerton, may I have this dance?” 

Violet smiled, “Yes you may.” 

She placed her hand in his and felt all the air leave her lungs as he pulled her into him, a hand wrapped around her waist, still a small gap between them that she so selfishly closed with an additional step forward. 

Her other hand was flat against his chest and she let herself feel comfort in his embrace, her smile never once leaving her lips, only growing as they finally began to dance. 

Their movements were slow, in time with the music, the hand of hers that he held tucked close to his heart in a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Violet. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Marcus commented after a while of swaying together. 

“Is it a crime to simply enjoy the moment?” she asked, looking up at him and tilting her head to the side. 

“No, not at all,” he chuckled. “Although I am glad you are enjoying it.” 

“So am I,” she whispered.

Violet was savouring the slow pace of things between them. It gave her adequate time to appreciate every new feeling as it came up, every warm sensation. 

“Before you had asked, the last time I hadn’t danced with anyone since my husband had passed away,” she said quietly, looking down at their intertwined hands. “It sounds foolish to say out loud, but I was so nervous for the days leading up to the ball my children thought me to be ill.” 

Marcus let out a little chuckle at her admission and Violet could feel his hold against her tightening, even if only slightly. 

“Well the world did not end after our dance.” 

“No it did not,” she shook her head. “You brought something back into my life I had dearly missed and I…I thank you for that…Dancing, I mean.” 

“Yes, of course,” Marcus nodded, seemingly understanding her indirect words. “Dancing.” 

They continued to move with the music in silence until the song ended and they paused, both unwilling to let go of the other, but they were spared the separation when another song began and Marcus took his cue to resume leading the Dowager Viscountess. 

“My sister has told me you are planning on going to Aubrey Hall with Benedict, Gregory, and Hyacinth once the season is over,” Marcus began. “Would it be so bold of me to ask if I may call on you while you are there?” 

Violet felt her lips pull into another smile. She gingerly bit her lower lip before looking up and responding to him. 

“I think I would quite like that.” 

“I was hoping you might say that,” he smiled. “I thought the ball and the decorations might put you in a good mood,” he teased, but when he saw the slight confusion on her face he clarified. “Did my sister not tell you I helped with this ball?” 

Violet chuckled, now making the connection. 

“She said someone had helped her, but she failed to mention it was you.” 

He shrugged his shoulders. 

“It was a good chance for us to work together and she was struggling to find a theme fit for a closing ball.” 

“And so you stepped in. I must say if this was your vision Agatha executed it wonderfully,” Violet admitted. 

“Yes, I have recently found myself drawn to a particular flower and thought it might be a nice way to honour her,” he said and Violet could feel her cheeks grow warm, a pink tinge certainly outing her to the gentleman in front of her. 

“Even though you couldn’t be absolutely certain I would come?” she asked. “I did just have two of my children marry.” 

“There was always a chance you’d find your way here.” 

His words were so simple and yet they carried such weight in Violet’s heart. That irregardless of circumstances he had trusted she would come. 

“You have an awful lot of faith in me, my Lord,” her voice came out a whisper without even meaning to. 

Marcus simply smiled and Violet felt his grip around her waist tighten slightly, almost in a protective manner. It made her breath falter, the air around her not enough to satiate her lungs. 

As if her request for more air was heard from up above, a gust of wind came forth, making her gown billow around her, a few strands of her carefully pinned hair finding their way in front of her eyes. 

She felt Marcus let go of her hand that rested over his heart, instead his fingers coming to gently brush aside small curls that covered her face, tucking them ever so gently behind her ear. She memorized the way his touch felt against her cheek, coming behind her ear only to come and trace her jaw in a movement one could only describe as painfully curious. 

From the look in his eyes she could tell he had wondered for so long what it might feel like to do that, to…touch her so personally, reverently. 

She didn’t pull away, in fact, she had to stop herself from leaning in too much, her body aching and wishing to be just that much closer to him. 

They had stopped dancing as the music faded into silence in the background, the back of Marcus’ fingers still pressed gently against her cheek. 

Violet couldn’t tear her gaze away, stuck in that moment, away from everyone and everything. 

She expected her voice to be caught in her throat, frozen and silent like everything else, but there was something about that when she was around him, something that made her say what she wished, without fear of judgement or shame. 

“Lady Bridgerton-” 

“Kiss me,” she whispered. 

The shock on Marcus’ face was amplified from when she had told him to ask her to dance, but he did not seem against the idea.

“Violet,” his voice was gentle. “I wouldn’t wish to-” 

“We aren’t children,” she said quietly. “We have both been married…been with someone. It is not foreign,” she expressed, “I just…Marcus, please kiss me.” 

Marcus’ hand turned from how it was resting against her cheek, moving instead to hold it, his thumb brushing against the soft skin there. Tracing her cheekbone, committing to memory every line and freckle he passed over. 

Violet had never heard her heart beat so loudly, it increased in volume until the steady thump was the only thing she could hear as Marcus brought her even closer to him. She let her eyes flutter shut just as his lips lightly pressed against hers, her hand firmly resting against his heart, their beats mixing together to form a rhythm that coursed through their veins. 

Just like everything in their relationship, the progression of their first kiss was slow. A steady warmth first building until it spread to every extremity, until it consumed them. Their lips moved in a delicate experienced dance, but was simultaneously cautious and tentative, explorative after having both been without such feelings and sensations for so long. 

When they pulled apart it was merely centimeters that separated them. Violet’s eyes remained shut, her head still tilted upwards towards Marcus. 

When she finally opened her eyes and felt Marcus’ hand come slightly lower on her face, his thumb now tracing the curve of her bottom lip. 

She let out a shaky exhale, her eyes flicking towards where she felt his touch and then back up to his eyes. 

Their moment was interrupted by the sound of the upper balcony door being swung open and they quickly pulled away from each other, instead standing as they once were in the beginning overlooking the garden. 

They stood close enough together that Violet could feel the ghost of his touch, her body missing, no, craving the feeling of having him so close, but she felt her lips begin to pull into a small smile as she felt his hand intertwine with hers, hidden from those behind them by the layered fabric of her dress that lightly blew in the breeze. 

And as they heard the chatter increase in volume from those in the ballroom, Violet was very happy she’d learnt to ask for what she wanted.

[lifesizehysteria]

A Mother’s Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 5: Marcus

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Marcus Anderson Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus’ courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children. AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

As the end of the season approached, Violet knew there was no doubt among the ton that she and Lord Anderson were quietly courting, though Violet was still refusing to admit it outright. Over the last several weeks, they called on each other as often as society allowed, and perhaps slightly more often than that, their age providing leniency to some of the usual social proprieties. 

Aside from their pall mall game and the picnic that followed, Violet had gone to have her usual tea with Agatha, who graciously allowed Marcus to join them. However, she did eventually send her brother away, insisting women needed time away from men to retain their sanity.

They had tea several more times, promenaded in Hyde Park, and most recently, danced at the final ball of the season. With about half the ton already departed for the country, it felt more like a country dance than a grand ball, so it had not been exceptional when Marcus had asked her to dance twice. Violet had found it exhilarating, absorbed fully in the steps, and savoring every touch the dance afforded between them. However, she had never fully outgrown her wallflower nature, and she knew that after so many years of being the widowed Lady Bridgerton, there were plenty of eyes watching. So, as much as she loved dancing with him, she was relieved when the ball drew to a close.

She much preferred the quiet they had now as they strolled through the gardens of Bridgerton House the following morning. Marcus had told her he would be calling, and instead of having him shown to the drawing room, Violet had asked that he be brought to meet her in the garden. After his arrival, when her maid had hesitated at the door, Violet sent her inside. They were well in sight of half the windows of the house, and she was plenty old enough to stroll with a gentleman without a chaperone. 

“Have you always been so passionate about flowers?” They were nearing the edge of the garden, and Marcus had been listening to her talk about the flowers nearly the entire way. He listened with intent, inviting her to share her knowledge by asking her pertinent questions, fully engaged and never once making her feel as though she were rambling. 

“I have always enjoyed flowers,” she said, nodding. “I used to spend hours in the gardens when I was a girl. But it was not the flowers that drew me there so much as it was the solitude. It was a kind of sanctuary, away from my mother who could be… overbearing.”

“And your passion grew out of the nostalgia of childhood?”

“Grief, actually.” She could feel that Marcus had turned his head to look at her, and she felt herself blush. Her gaze drifted toward the ground. She hadn’t meant to be so bold, but opening up to him always came so easily. With an awkward laugh she began to explain. “You see, Edmund died in the gardens at Aubrey Hall. He and Anthony were returning from shooting and he had stopped to pick some flowers for me, because he knew how much I love them…” she trailed off, the pain sharp in her chest as she recalled the memory.

After a moment, he said gently, “If you do not wish to speak of it, we can find a less troublesome subject.”

Violet shook her head, letting a smile lift the corners of her mouth. “It is good to remember, even when it is difficult.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “How did he die, if you do not mind me asking?”

“He was stung by a bee,” she said, almost laughing. Even after all the years that had passed, it still sounded so absurd that something so small could fell such a young and healthy man. 

“A bee?” he asked, sounding surprised. 

“Yes. Just here,” her fingers brushed against her neck. “The doctor said it closed his throat so he was unable to breathe. Anthony and I watched him die, suffocating in my arms.” With a quick intake of breath, she covered her mouth with her fingertips. “Forgive me. I did not mean to be so direct.”

“Please, do not apologize. I appreciate your directness. You are simply stating a truth that caused you great heartache. There is no shame in being honest about it. I cannot imagine the pain it must have caused to witness, and to have lived with the memory so long. You are stronger than I could ever hope to be.”

“Thank you,” she said with a tight but gracious smile. “But I was not always. For months after, I could hardly get out of bed. I was near the end of my pregnancy with Hyacinth, and so angry, I could not bear the thought of continuing to exist without him. It shames me to say, I abandoned my children. Anthony was just eighteen, had not only lost his father and become Lord Bridgerton in one terrible moment, but… he lost me, too.” Pressing her lips together, she cleared her throat. “Hyacinth was born just weeks later, and I could not bear to look at her. She was the final piece of him that would ever exist on Earth, and she would never even know him. My heart re-broke over and over at any reminder of him.”

A quiet moment hung between them in which he studied her. The breeze tugged a loose curl across her cheek, which was pink from sun and vulnerability. When he spoke again, there was gentle curiosity in his voice. “This is the grief that brought about your passions, then?”

“Yes.” Violet returned his gaze, her eyes smiling despite the solemn nature of the conversation. She was not sure she had ever spoken of Edmund’s death as easily as she did now. The pain was there, of course, but this time there was also comfort in sharing. She trusted him, she realized. “You see, Anthony blamed the bee, and to this day he is still frightened of them. I, however, blamed the flowers, and in turn, blamed myself. He was picking them for me, after all.” 

“So you avoided the flowers, just as you avoided your children.” His assumption did not feel like a judgment. In fact, it sounded to Violet as if it came from a place of understanding, and she wondered if he, too, had had flowers of his own to come to terms with after his wife’s passing.

Violet nodded. “But eventually,” she continued, “just like with the children, I realized that avoiding them would not bring him back, nor would it stop the pain of his absence. It would, however, make me lose the most beautiful parts of him that remained. So, just as I would  force myself to go to Hyacinth’s nursery, I would make myself go into the gardens. It took time, of course, but in the end, they became a place of solace. The more time I spent there and the more I learned about them, the more I grew to love them again. I feel him with me when I am among them and, aside from all the ways he appears in each of our children, nothing makes me feel more connected to him.” 

“Of course,” Marcus said, nodding his head. “Now I understand why your house is always filled with so many beautiful flowers. You honor the memory of his final gesture of love.”

Violet’s eyes shone blue in the sunlight as she looked up at him. Searching his face, she felt a deep, settling gratitude bloom in her chest because she found nothing in his eyes but understanding. He recognized her grief, and the ways she had learned to live with it, and it was clear that he accepted it as a permanent part of who she was. A smile slowly spread over her face until creases appeared at the corners of her eyes, and she felt a lightness take hold of her that she had not felt in a very long time. 

As they continued on in silence, she noticed that, at some point, they had passed the edge of the gardens and were walking among the trees scattered nearby. She was not concerned; aside from a few moments when they occasionally passed behind one of the larger trees, they were perfectly visible from the house, should anyone be looking. And even if she had been concerned about propriety, she was far too distracted to have cared. The shade beneath the canopy of the trees was cool, yet she wished she had brought a fan to relieve the warmth in her face. She could feel the heat of him beside her, along her arm, and every time their elbows bumped together, the effects of it radiated through her. She longed to take his hand, to feel his skin on hers, just for a moment. After being so open with him, it felt absurd that she could not, that such a gesture could be more intimate than the vulnerability she had just shared. To be so close to him and not be able to touch him, when that was all she wanted to do, was torturous.

“Violet…” Marcus finally broke the silence.

“Hm?” she answered, sounding distant as she chewed her lower lip. Looking around, she realized that they had come to a standstill behind one of the large trees.

“I cannot begin to tell you how much I have enjoyed spending this season with you.” His voice wrapped around her, sticking to her like dripping honey. 

“Thank you…” Words felt impossible to form, her brain foggy with desire. “I, um– I, too, have enjoyed it. Very much.”

“I will be returning to the country soon, as I’m sure you will as well.”

Violet nodded.

“Would it be alright if I called on you there?”

A bright smile slowly bloomed across her face, creasing the corners of her eyes. “I would like that.”

“Good,” he said, more to himself than to her. “There is something else…” he began, then trailed off as if losing his nerve. 

“Yes?” Her voice was breathy and hopeful. 

He averted his eyes for a moment, letting a nervous laugh fill the pulsing silence. 

Violet watched the tip of his tongue wet his lips and suddenly her breathing became shallow, the rise and fall of her chest growing noticeably more rapid over the neckline of her dress.

“Marcus?” she said, drawing his gaze back to her face when he still did not speak.

He cleared his throat, his smile, now tight with anxiety at the corners, was as alluring as ever as he nervously scrubbed his hand over his beard. “I certainly hope my affections for you have not gone unnoticed.” 

She swallowed hard. “They have not.”

“And if I am not mistaken… those affections are returned?” 

He took a small step towards her and Violet’s heart beat harder against her rib cage. “They are.”

He took another step closer so she had to tilt her head slightly to look up at him. She could smell him now, the spicy musk making her mouth water. She swallowed again. 

“I know my rakish reputation from my youth persists, and although I cannot say it was entirely undeserved, I do believe myself to be reformed.” That made Violet laugh quietly. He had spent years in the countryside, a widower raising his children. Reformed was quite an understatement. “However, I want you to know, my intentions are pure. I would never wish to sully your reputation, or bring you any sort of dishonor.”

“Marcus, I am a widow, not a young miss on the marriage mart,” she said, amusement threading into her voice. 

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “That is true, but you are a lady.”

“I am,” she conceded. “I am also a woman.”

Marcus’s gaze slid down to her mouth, and Violet had to stop herself from shaking from the shiver that licked its way up her spine. 

“Violet?” 

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you?”

With a nearly imperceptible nod, her words were breathless as desire tightened its grip on her. “I do wish you would.”  

He took one more step forward, closing the remaining distance between them. At the same time, she felt his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face towards his own. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she watched him lean in until she could feel his breath on her lips. Just as their lips met, her eyes fluttered closed. At first, it was slow, almost chaste, the softness of his lips and the tenderness with which they met hers warming her skin and making her scalp tingle. When they parted, they remained near, their noses resting together and their breath mingling in the tiny space between them. Violet opened her eyes to look at him, finding a yearning in his dark eyes that matched her own. She could feel her pulse in every inch of her body. It was dizzying and delicious, but she could feel her heart sinking, afraid it was already over and wondering how that alone was going to sustain her for… however long it would be until he kissed her again. Just as she began to pull away, the fingers beneath her chin slid over to cup her jaw, encouraging her to stay. Static crackled between them. Her mouth parted slightly, as if to drink him in, and he slid his other hand down to the small of her back. As his mouth hovered over hers, her brows drew together, her want for him so strong it was nearly painful. Unable to stand it any longer, she closed her eyes and captured his lips with hers in a crushing kiss that set her skin on fire. Their mouths moved together purely on instinct, each of them entirely caught up in the other. He pulled her in so she was flush against him, and she twined her arms around his neck, aching to feel him on as much of her body as possible. When the tip of his tongue grazed along the inner edge of her lip, she could not hold back the breathy moan that spilled out into his mouth. One hand curled around the collar at the back of his neck, leveraging herself up higher, needing more of him, deepening their embrace until they were both so overcome they had to pull apart to avoid reaching an unforgivable level of indecency.

Violet trembled as Marcus held her in his arms, their chests moving in synchrony as they labored to catch their breath. After a moment, she slid her hands down to his chest, pulling back to look at him. His brown skin appeared to shimmer in the sunlight that filtered through the leaves and flickered across his face. He caressed his thumb over her cheek and she leaned into the touch, closing her eyes, not only to better feel it, but because the way he looked at her made her feel conspicuous. It had been a very long time since anyone had gazed upon her with such open adoration; it was a feeling she would have to grow used to again.

“Violet,” he said gently, at the same time, removing his hand from her back and taking hold of one of hers. When she opened her eyes to look at him again, there was something new in his eyes, something pure, something that scared her. “Marcus, don’t. Please.” Squeezing his hand, she shook her head, feeling herself begin to spiral, desperate not to lose this most perfect moment. “This morning has been everything I could have wanted it to be. Please do not spoil it by asking me a question that I am not yet ready to answer.”

Marcus threw his head back and laughed, making Violet flinch in surprise. Embarrassment began to creep up from the pit of her stomach and she pursed her lips, dropping her hand from his chest.

“Forgive me,” Marcus sobered, though the grin never left his face. “I do not mean to laugh at you, you simply caught me by surprise.” He sought out her other hand so that he held them both down by their sides, and despite still feeling indignant, she did not pull it away. “I appreciate your candor, and while I admit the thought did cross my mind, that was not what I was planning to ask.”

“Oh.” She blinked, feeling the blush in her cheeks spread down her neck, and cast her gaze toward the ground.

“What I was going to ask,” he said, the tenderness that threaded into his voice, drawing Violet’s eyes back to him, “is if, when I call on you at Aubrey Hall, we can perhaps discuss the direction we are hoping to take our… exploration. After we have each had a chance to decide what we are truly searching for.” 

Violet took a steadying breath, trying to dispel the lingering sense of foolishness that was slowly being replaced by relief. “Yes. I should quite like to have the time to… consider my options.”

“I understand,” he said, and she believed he did. 

They stood in silence for a moment, with just the sound of the leaves rustling above them, accompanied by bird song and the low drone of late summer insects. A curl swept across her brow and he gently brushed it aside, the delicate touch leaving a tingling trail along her skin.

Releasing her hand, Marcus pivoted and offered her his arm. “Shall we?” 

A sweet smile tugged at her lips, but he did not miss the glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “My lord,” she bowed her head, then wrapped her hand around his elbow, only to slide it back down into his hand, lacing their fingers together. He chuckled, clearly enamored, as their hands came to rest between them by their sides. Hand in hand, they walked back through the garden toward the house because Violet no longer cared who saw. She was no longer trying to pretend they were not courting because she was no longer trying to ignore that she was, in fact, in love with him.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 3: Keeping Up Appearances

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: I am so sorry that this is like half a week late, life really got me. The next chapter should be out on Wednesday, fingers crossed. Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

As Francesca walked off after Lord Kilmartin, following his attempt to tell them all the story of his muddy boots, Violet slumped. She could see that Francesca was happy, but she just was not certain that he was the right person for her.

“What do you think?” Violet leaned in toward Agatha, awaiting her counsel. As far as Violet was concerned, Agatha was almost as perceptive as she was when it came to her children’s love lives and, Violet could admit to herself, she wanted Agatha’s approval.

“They are rather… similar” Agatha responded. Violet sighed. Their similarity was what worried her.

“Yes, but do you not think that Francesca could, in fact, use someone to bring her out of her shell? And given that the Queen is opposed…” Violet was worried about the Queen’s response, particularly after her children’s history of refusing the Queen’s matches.

“Oh! So much so it may have inspired her Whistledown reward today.” Agatha responded. Oh, wonderful. Violet pinched the bridge of her nose in some attempt to relax her mounting stress.

Anthony spoke up. “Perhaps, you should take the direct approach, for once.” Oh, because that ever worked, Violet thought to herself, turning toward him as he continued, “I know it is unlike you to cajole your children.”

She saw the smile threatening to burst onto her son’s face, “You mock me.” She replied, laughter lacing her tone.

“As you rightly mocked me all last season.”

Violet could not stop the shock showing on her face before she saw how much he was teasing and laughed quickly, turning away briefly. In doing so, she made eye contact with Lady Featherington, who waved brightly. Internally, Violet rolled her eyes and gritted her teeth as she excused herself from Agatha and Lord Anderson, moving over to Lady Featherington.

“There you are, Lady Bridgerton. We keep missing one another.” Both ladies were quite jovial as they spoke.

“Duty of a hostess, I am afraid.” Co-hostess, verging on hostess in name only, but that would not excuse my refusal to speak with her, Violet thought internally.

“Well understood.” Lady Featherington responded. Violet hummed in agreement, allowing an uncomfortable silence to sweep over them. 

The clinking of a spoon on a glass broke the silence and Violet turned to see Colin proposing a toast. As Colin spoke, Violet allowed her thoughts to wander. She knew, logically, that Lady Featherington was going to be her family now, but that did not mean that it was any easier for her to handle a conversation with the woman. Knowing how much Penelope had struggled to thrive under Lady Featherington’s tutelage did not make it any easier for Violet, who had, some days, wanted nothing more than to take the girl into her house and protect her from the world, like she tried to do with all her children. However, seeing as they were being publicly joined, it was up to Violet to swallow her feelings and appear as a cohesive unit.

Violet was pulled out of her reverie by the clink of spoon on glass once more, this time by Eloise. Oh, this cannot be good. After Eloise’s response to the engagement, Violet had tried, several times, to speak to Eloise about whatever had come between her and Penelope, but her daughter refused to speak about it, to anyone. Violet paid attention as Eloise gave her toast.

“Congratulations to you both. Here is to truly knowing each other. Completely. Before the clock runs out.” Violet looked over to Penelope, who looked worried and perhaps scared, and she gave her daughter a piercing glare that said ‘be nice’. The glare worked and Eloise continued, clearing her throat. “The clock of life, of course. Ticks for us all. To your good health!” Violet could hear how strained Eloise’s voice was, but she dropped the matter in favour of taking the one small reprieve she had granted her. At least Eloise had not forgotten her manners completely.

“Thank you, Eloise, I--” Colin sounded perplexed, but it did not last long as Lady Featherington spoke up from next to Violet.

“I should like to add… how proud I am of my lovely daughter, Penelope.” Mentally, Violet’s eyebrows rose, but outwardly, she chuckled in support of Penelope, who looked like pride was the last thing she expected from her mother. “To the match of the season,” Violet laughed genuinely, agreeing with Lady Featherington for once, who finished her toast, “And to the Featherington-Bridgerton family.” Lady Featherington chuckled and Violet toasted quickly before taking a long drink from her champagne flute.

Violet overheard Benedict turn to his guest and say “I cannot tell if this party needs stronger drinks or weaker ones.” Violet agreed with the former, as she finished her glass, needing the fortification for the coming night and the coming life she would spend being linked to Lady Featherington.

“Now, perhaps, some dessert and charades, in the drawing room.” Kate spoke up, ever the consummate hostess. The assembly moved toward the drawing room. As they did so, Violet found herself face to face with Lord Anderson who simply smiled warmly and offered his arm to her as they ascended the staircase. She took it, smiling softly at him.

***

Once they reached the drawing room and everyone was seated comfortably, Violet and Lord Anderson stopped together, still arm in arm, to watch the charades. Anthony explained the rules and as Penelope stepped up, after being prompted by Kate, Violet turned to Lord Anderson, saying in hushed tones, “Penelope is quite good at this. We have had her play in many of our family charades games over the years. She and my daughter Eloise,” she indicated to where Eloise was standing near the wall, “are-- were quite close.”

Lord Anderson looked at her as he replied, “And now she is to be your daughter. You must be quite excited.”

“Indeed, I am. She and Colin are a fine pair.” Not to mention, not nearly as much hassle as my previous children’s matches. She looked over at Eloise as she completed Penelope’s charade before turning to Lord Anderson, saying, “While Colin may have been the first to meet Penelope, Eloise was the one to truly welcome Penelope into the family. The two have been inseparable ever since.”

The two paused their conversation to watch Eloise’s charade before Lord Anderson responded, “I cannot help but notice that they appear rather uncomfortable at the moment.” Violet looked at Lord Anderson, her eyes widening and her frame stiffening, shocked at his impropriety. However, she could not help but admire his perceptiveness as well. Lord Anderson looked slightly apprehensive as he waited for her response, turning back to the charades in case she did not take kindly to his assertions. She softened and turned to him.

“It-- They were close… until last year. I am not certain what has come between them, but I am… hopeful, that they will be able to sort it out before the wedding. The girls are like two peas in a pod, after all.” Lord Anderson turned toward Violet as she spoke, looking into her eyes. Violet trailed off uncertainly, stunned by his attentive gaze. She cleared her throat slightly and turned back towards the game to see Penelope’s charade being attempted by Miss Cowper.

She could feel Marcus’s elbow bracketing her side and she could not help from leaning in towards him slightly. She had not felt this kind of magnetic pull since she had been with Edmund, and she relished it, unable to keep the smile from her face. As Eloise successfully guessed friendship for Penelope’s charade, Violet nodded hesitantly, as she noticed that Lord Anderson did the same, now understanding as much as she did about their relationship.

The two stood happily together, watching the charades in companionable silence. Violet, however, found herself wishing that he would say something, anything, to break the silence. She wanted to get to know him more, but could not find the words. As they stood, he turned to her, quietly saying “I am quite parched. Would you like a drink as well?”

Violet turned to him. His voice was so melodic and she could almost get lost in it. “Yes,” was all that Violet could utter in her haze.

“I’ll get us a drink.” Lord Anderson touched her arm as he offered and Violet jumped slightly at the feeling. His hand was warm against her and it sent tingles up her arm.

“Oh, I-- That would be lovely.” He removed his arm and Violet came to her senses once more.

“Lemonade?” He asked. Violet turned toward the refreshments table and pointed as she responded.

“Yes, they’re just-- Just over there.” Violet watched Lord Anderson as he walked off, fiddling with her hands as she did. She smiled quietly, taking just a moment for herself before turning back to keep watching the charades alone. Well, if this isn’t a metaphor for my life, nothing is. She was surrounded by friends and family, but found herself alone. However, with Marcus, it was different. With Marcus, she did not feel so alone.

***

The moment Kate announced that she and Anthony were expecting was the last moment that Violet clearly remembered, when thinking back on the night of the engagement ball. She remembered being truly overjoyed for the pair, excited for them to experience the wonder that parenthood could be. After that, everything had happened entirely too quickly. Miss Cowper had announced her identity as Lady Whistledown, much to the shock of Violet and the other gathered guests and, of course, Penelope had fainted. Violet had rushed to get Mrs. Wilson, to get a doctor, to do something.

Despite Violet’s experience in dealing with sick children, she was at a loss of what to do. She settled to pacing quietly in the hallway, waiting for the doctor to arrive, which is exactly where Agatha found her ten minutes after Penelope had initially collapsed.

Ten steps up, ten steps back. Penelope will be okay, she must be. She is not Edmund; she will be okay. 

Violet was startled from her thoughts by a hand on her arm. Violet spun around, to find herself face to face with Agatha.

“Oh! I- I am just-- just waiting for the doctor to arrive. Someone should be here to…” Violet’s voice trailed off as she looked at Agatha timidly. “I-- There-- How is she?” Violet tried again, looking down at her fidgeting hands. Agatha’s eyes sought out her own, and when she finally met her gaze, Violet saw compassion there, so strikingly similar to her brother, not that she would admit that.

“Violet. Penelope is fine. She came around and she has had some water to drink, she will be okay.” Agatha said emphatically, keeping her hand on Violet’s arm. At the news, Violet allowed herself to deflate, all the frenetic energy leaving her body. Violet focused her attention on Agatha’s hand, allowing it to ground her. “She is okay.” Agatha repeated, likely seeing how it had soothed Violet to know that. Violet allowed the words to wash over her, to bring her out of her panic.

“Thank goodness for that, truly.” Violet took a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me know, Agatha.” Violet offered a small smile as she covered Agatha’s hand with her own.

“That is quite alright, Violet. Are you well?” Agatha looked concerned for Violet more than for Penelope, which, surely, did not make any sense.

“Yes, yes. I am fine, I was merely worried about her.”

“Violet, I found you pacing in the hallway and you had no idea I was coming, which is most unlike you. Here, come and sit.” With that, Agatha led Violet over to one of the benches that adorned the hallway and sat down. Violet sat down as well, her legs feeling jelly-like now that her energy had passed. “Now, Penelope will be quite all right. She is not Edmund. She is well. When I left, she was taking small sips of water at your son’s insistence.” Agatha placed an arm around Violet, who found herself needing to take deep breaths in order to avoid succumbing to the tears filling her eyes.

“I know that she is not Edmund… But… I just cannot help it. I could do nothing then and I could do nothing now. I did not wish for Colin to go through what I had to experience.” Violet continued to breathe deeply, trying to ground herself.

“Come. We shall go and see her and you can see that she is well for yourself.” Violet looked up at Agatha as she stood and offered her arm.

“Thank you, Agatha, truly.” Violet accepted her arm and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. She smiled sadly at Agatha, allowing herself to take strength from her dearest friend when she needed it. 

The two walked back toward the drawing room as if nothing was wrong. When they reached the drawing room and Violet saw Penelope sitting on one of the couches, she could not help the sigh of relief that she breathed. Violet looked at the assorted guests and saw only one pair of eyes focused on her, everyone else too focused on Penelope. Marcus looked at her with concern and compassion in his eyes. She smiled slightly and nodded to him, to show she was okay, as she slipped back into the role of co-hostess with Kate.

***

Mrs. Wilson had alerted Violet to the presence of a visitor in the entranceway the following morning, which led her to be caught off-guard when the visitor was none other than Marcus -Lord Anderson-, the very man who had been occupying her thoughts since the night before.

“Lord Anderson.” Violet said.

Hearing her voice, he turned away from the decorations that he had been examining on the side table and started walking towards her.

“Lady Bridgerton.” He said, and Violet bowed her head to him in greeting. “Forgive my intrusion. I simply forgot my, uh…” Lord Anderson trailed off as a footman approached. “Hat.” He finished, gesturing to the hat in the footman’s hands. They both chuckled at the impeccable timing, and Violet nodded in thanks to her footman. As Lord Anderson brushed his hat off, he did not make any movements to leave, so she took the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Were you just, um…” Violet felt uncharacteristically nervous as she searched for the right words, “Passing by?” Lord Anderson laughed infectiously.

“Yes, I suppose I could have sent a footman to fetch this, could I not?” Violet laughed awkwardly. This conversation was not going the way she had wished. “But then I would not have been able to see you again.” 

Well, that was quite… forward. 

Violet allowed herself to preen slightly at his words. Lord Anderson was quite the flatterer, it appeared, as he continued. “Well, to thank you for such an enjoyable evening.”

Violet stepped forward towards him, feeling that magnetic pull that she had felt last night as she carried on with the conversation. “Well, it was… quite a night. Was it not?” She cast about for the words as she spoke, returning her gaze to find that he had also taken steps toward her, leading him to be far closer than she had expected.

“How are you faring?” Lord Anderson asked. Violet was slightly thrown from his proximity and she took a moment before responding.

“Uh…” Well, that was eloquent. “Besides a bit of a headache, I am well.” She responded, laughing slightly. She watched Marcus and saw adoration reflected in his eyes. It threw her, having not been on the receiving end of such a gaze since Edmund had passed. Violet looked down, no longer able to withstand the weight of his gaze, searching for something to say, something to continue the conversation that she was so enjoying. “How are you?” Violet said genuinely, trying to convey her concern whilst still remaining polite.

Lord Anderson took a moment to respond, his smile hesitating. “I take it you sensed a chilly departure between my sister and me?” She had not intended to be quite so confrontational about it, but took the opportunity that presented itself.

“Perhaps. Though it is none of my business.” Violet was quick to assure Lord Anderson that he need not speak of anything he did not want to.

“I do believe we will work it out. Childhood grievances have a way of lingering. My sister was the first born.”

“But you were the first boy.” Violet interjected understandingly. Lord Anderson nodded.

“But we are adults now… Surely, there is a way forward.” Lord Anderson said, hopefully. Violet huffed a small laugh, knowing Agatha’s ability to hold a grudge.

“I have faith you will find a way.” Violet offered her support, not for one side or the other, but just for them both to move forward. So I might pursue a relationship with him while maintaining my closest friendship, her brain supplied traitorously.

“Thank you.” Lord Anderson smiled gratefully, “I shall let you nurse your headache in peace.” Violet took a few steps back, laughing, but with a tinge of sadness that he was ending the conversation. “But I do hope to see you soon.” With that simple sentence, her sadness left her and her heart bloomed with hope.

“As do I.” Violet allowed her hope and affection to shine through on her face, smiling as he left. She began to walk to the drawing room, looking back to where he had just left and smiled happily to herself. 

As Violet walked into the drawing room, she was shaken from her reverie, by hearing her children arguing over the macarons, but was too elated from her conversation with Lord Anderson to bother trying to break up the argument. Instead, she simply picked up her embroidery and sat down, mulling over her conversation.

[mako-mermaids2021]

As promised, I wrote something

Violet Bridgerton was a control freak. After 8 children she always had to be in control of them. But after her husband’s death, she grew depressed, anxious, and a constant need for control driving gaps between her and her children. After a talk with her friends, she decides to find a way to let loose and ends up at a sex club recommended by Charlotte (How she lets herself be convinced she’ll never know).

Marcus Anderson was lonely. His sister didn’t speak to him over an incident from over 20 years ago, his wife was dead, and his children were all over the world. He found solstice in a high end BDSM club where the women and men to keep him company was never ending. But, while the company in his bed was always there, the company in his heart was empty.

Or, Violet and Marcus fix family bonds, work through years of trauma, and discover themselves in and out of the bedroom, while learning to fall in love with themselves and each other through the world of BDSM.

Enjoy! ;)

[dailybridgerton]

#like daughter like mother

[incorrect-bridgerton-family]

Violet and Marcus: *Kiss*

Gregory: Gross! No one wants to see that!

Hyacinth: I think old people kissing is cute.

[sunny-rants]

I already knew this was gonna be my fave, because, well, Polin, but I didn’t expect it to be all around my favourite season! of course Penelope and Colin, but also Eloise and Cressida, Francesca’s adorable romance with John Stirling, Benedict and his hot ass widowed lover Lady Tilly, and even Violet finally getting some! I’m obsessed!!

[rottentiger-art]

Violet and Marcus were absolutely adorable, I was worried he would turn out to be a fraud or something because of his relationship with Lady D and that comment of him being a rake, I feared he would just be trying to seduce Violet. But he seems honest on looking for a love match of his own and in his interest in her, as well as his love for his sister and his guilt over what he's done.

Theres also a sweet connection in the way they speak and relate to each other when it comes to being a parent and being widowed. I noticed each scene they shared they start pausing more and sharing longing stares, it's so sweet and I'm so happy for Violet, with her being a hopeless romantic, she deserves a second chance at love.

Now I dont know if they'll actually marry or will simply have an affair, but I cannot wait to see more of them, the little bit of Violet getting distracted by watching him eat was so funny, it really runs in the family!

Bridgerton being a show that explores different love tropes and couples, I'm excited about seeing them write a romance for an older couple rather than still focusing on the young ones

[ajordan2426]

who’s gonna take one for the team and write some violet and marcus fics to get us through these next two agonizing years?

[nestaenthusiast]

I cannot put into words how happy I am that they are giving Violet a love interest despite her old age. It’s so rare to see a romance about an old woman especially in a show like Bridgerton where the characters are known for their sex appeal. Old women deserve a passionate romance too!!

Edit: Sorry to those I upset by calling her old😂 but like I’m 21 in real life so she could also be my mother so to me she’s old🤣🤣

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 [𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒]

PAIRINGS — Violet Bridgerton x Marcus Anderson

SUMMARY — Marcus' children are finally in town, and Violet finally gets the chance to meet them.

WORD COUNT — 5.2K

WARNINGS — some descriptions of anxious behaviours throughout

NOTE — Again, as promised, here's another fic of these two lovelies! In two parts (for two reasons), but also mainly just to keep you on your toes ;) not me finally posting this like a month after writing it

Violet could have sworn the lump beginning to form in her throat was her heart, making its way out of her chest to remind her of the sobering reality of what was before her. She paced back and forth in the main entry hall of Danbury house, her hands firmly pressed against her stomach to try and suppress her lunch that was attempting to make a reappearance. 

Her thoughts swirled in her head, like a tornado beginning to form, threatening to destroy everything in its path. It had become so all consuming, that she didn’t notice two pairs of eyes watching carefully over her from a distance, voices hushed and concerned. 

“I have never seen her like this before,” Marcus whispered to Agatha, who had pursed her lips and gripped onto the head of her cane tightly as she watched her friend continue to pace. 

“She is nervous.” 

“I can see that,” Marcus rolled his eyes at his older sister’s obvious comment. 

“Then why are you standing here?” 

She looked up at him with a piercing glare. 

“Trust me, my voice is not the one that will soothe her right now,” she added, this time a little softer. 

Marcus nodded his head and carefully made his way out from the hallway where they were conveniently hidden from Violet’s view. Agatha turned around and made her way to the drawing room, giving them some much needed privacy.

Violet did not notice Marcus making his way towards her. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, but she yelped and jumped back, her hand moving from her stomach to her chest to now steady her erratic breathing. 

“I-Marcus,” she breathed. “I am sorry, you startled me.” 

She resumed her pacing, her hand retreating back to her stomach, the other patting her hair to ensure everything was neatly in place. She clearly didn’t realize Marcus was there for her. 

“Violet?” 

She spun around at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide and owlish, her nervousness seeping from every pore and creating a thick fog of anxiety around the room. 

“Would you like to talk about it?” 

This had become common practice over the past months. Marcus didn’t ever bother asking what was wrong, but instead dropping all such formalities and heading straight to the root of the problem, allowing her to process if she so wished, and oftentimes, she did wish to. 

“I suppose, maybe we should…before going in there.” 

Her eyes drifted towards the drawing room and she gulped, almost audibly.

“It is just…” her voice drifted off, like she was going into a trance staring down the hallway that seemed to get longer and longer with every passing second. 

“It is just, what, my dear?” 

Violet closed her eyes as the sound of his rich and velvety voice made its way to her ears, dampening the unease that surrounded her. 

“I do not know what I am to do, Marcus. Do I stand? Do I sit? How do I introduce myself? Must I explain our situation?” She rambled and began pacing again, only for Marcus to close some of the distance between them, taking her shoulders in his hands, first, to stop her, before tracing them down her arms and holding her hands in his. 

“Violet, Violet, Violet,” he repeated, pulling her out of her continued ramblings, her voice quieting as she looked up at him. 

“What if they do not like me?” she whispered. 

Marcus looks down at their intertwined hands, his thumb brushing over the betrothal ring, tracing the jewel at its centre, something purple for his Violet. 

“I find it quite hard to believe they would dislike you,” he began. “After all, I like you very much and they are my children. Perhaps we should think that they take after their father in this manner.” 

“Marcus, that does not-” 

“Violet, look at me, please.” 

She silenced herself and looked up at him, her blue eyes big and shimmering with worry. 

“You are a wonderful woman who is kind, and cares for others in a way I did not know was possible until I met you. My children are not unreasonable people, they wish for me to be happy, and I am most happy when I am with you.” 

Violet swallowed thickly and nodded her head. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

She pushed herself up on her toes to give him a quick and gentle kiss, hoping the familiar feeling of his lips against hers would quell whatever remaining insecurities she held close to her heart.

“Are you ready to go in there, or do you need another moment?” He asked, his thumbs continuing to brush soothingly over her fingers. 

“One more moment,” she whispered, leaning a little closer to him, and he complied by wrapping his arms around her in a quiet embrace, knowing at this point no one was watching, and nobody cared. 

Violet took one last deep breath and thanked Marcus, informing him she was now ready to head over to the drawing room. 

He offered his hand for her, which she took, and allowed him to lead her down the hallway and into the room she had been avoiding all afternoon. 

When she entered, there was a quiet chatter that hushed immediately, and she became very aware of the many pairs of eyes that seemed to burn into her very soul. Marcus sensed her nervousness returning, and squeezed her hand, bringing her back to the present. 

Everyone in the room seemed unsure of what to do, which is when Agatha decided to helpfully interject.

“Did your father and mother not teach you any manners? You are adults, go on, introduce yourselves,” she pointed to her nephew and two nieces with her cane. 

The younger girl stood up first, one hand moving to rest on her growing stomach while a radiant smile came across her face. Violet couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like her father, the same shining eyes and welcoming disposition. 

“Amelia Kilpatrick, my Lady,” she attempted to curtsy and Violet quickly let go of Marcus’ hand to encourage her back up. 

“Oh no, none of that, my dear,” Violet shook her head. “I have had eight children, I know how heavy they can be, please let us excuse such formalities.” 

“Of course, my Lady,” she smiled. “It is good to finally meet you.” 

“And you as well,” she agreed, feeling her nerves slowly begin to melt away. 

Next was who Violet assumed was the eldest of the bunch. 

“James Anderson. A pleasure to meet you.” 

Violet held out her hand, initially to shake, but James took it and pressed a kiss to its back and she could have sworn she could feel a bashful heat rise to her cheeks. 

“Likewise,” she nodded. 

Lastly, a more timid woman whose curls simultaneously framed her face and seemed to know no bounds, which had Violet mesmerized. She couldn’t see too much of a similarity between her and Marcus which made her assume she looked more like her mother. Softer, large brown eyes, thinner lips, a pointed nose. 

“Evelyn Jacob, my Lady,” she said quietly and quickly curtsied, struggling to meet her gaze. 

Violet looked back at Marcus, but he shook his head assuring you this was normal. Perhaps she just took time to warm up. 

“Wonderful to meet you.” 

Violet gave her a smile which she wasn’t entirely sure Evelyn saw before retreating back to where Marcus stood and Agatha was sitting. 

She and Marcus took seats, near one another, but not quite next to each other and silence fell over the room once more.

“Uh Amelia,” Marcus began. “Will Seamus be joining us?” 

“He had some affairs to take care of, I’m afraid,” she sighed. “I was hoping he might make it back in time, but it seems business takes longer and longer these days.” 

“W-Will you be in London when you have the baby?” Violet asked and Amelia nodded her head. 

“My husband and I thought it may be nice to be around our family. Especially now that Papa and Aunt Agatha have reconciled. It is a special moment to share together.” 

“I could not agree more,” Violet nodded her head, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

“And we could not miss the wedding.”

Violet smiled, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t sure why. She was getting married and she was most excited, so why did she feel the need to squirm? 

“How did you both meet?” James asked. “We have heard a lot about you in letters from my father, but not quite the details on how everything came to be.”

Violet looked over at Marcus and noticed his eyes were already on her. The warmth behind his irises muffled her worries enough for a moment so that she could speak, but unable to tear her gaze away from her fiancé. 

“I dropped my glove,” she began, “at a ball and he picked it up.” 

“And the rest is history,” Marcus smiled. 

“Well not quite that quickly,” Agatha teased. “I do recall getting in your way once or twice.” 

“I thought we had moved past that,” Marcus looked over at his sister who simply smiled with a bit of cheek. 

“We have, but no story is without its obstacles,” she tapped her cane on the ground. “And I was not the only one keen to get in your way.”

Violet cringed thinking back to the time before she and Anthony were able to have a proper conversation about her relationship with Marcus. She always knew he was protective over their family, but she didn’t realize the extent until she was in the middle of it herself. 

“Your aunt refers to my eldest son,” Violet decided to share. “He had concerns, naturally, but unfortunately had a very… interesting way of expressing them.”

“So we are talking about this now,” Evelyn quietly muttered under her breath and Violet tensed up. 

“Evelyn,” Marcus chided. 

“N-No Marcus, it’s quite alright,” Violet looked over and gave him a polite smile. “Evelyn, may I call you that?”

She finally met Violet’s gaze, some of her shyness now gone and replaced by something colder and harsher. 

“There is clearly something that is not sitting right with you,” she said slowly. “If you are willing to share, I would like to know what it is.”

Evelyn looked over to her siblings, seeing the confusion in their faces and understanding that she would not be getting the support she thought she would get from them. 

“Everyone is so concerned over what my father’s intentions are with you, but has anyone ever asked what your intentions are with him?” she asked cooly.

“Tone, Evelyn. You can still be polite,” Marcus advised and she apologized. 

“I do not think I have been asked that yet,” Violet said truthfully. “M-May I ask what you think my intentions are?” 

Evelyn looked over to Amelia who seemed to send her a warning glance, not to continue down this road, but she did not listen. 

“You are a widow, are you not? Your eldest son is married now. It must feel quiet and…boring.” 

“Evelyn!” her sister attempted to interject and Violet steeled herself for what other sharp words were to come. 

“Before you were able to take on the role of Viscountess, and from what I hear you did your job quite well, but that position is no longer yours,” Evelyn continued. “It makes sense that you would be looking for a husband now and how convenient that my father was there, hopeful and looking for someone to share the rest of his life with.” 

“Evelyn, I think that is enough,” James whispered over to his sister, but her quietness had since completely vanished and was replaced by a fire in her eyes. 

“I do not believe that you love my father.” 

Violet took a deep breath, her hands placed firmly in her lap. The unrelenting swirling in her stomach had since returned and she knew she couldn’t stay in that room any longer. 

“I am sorry you feel that way,” she said quietly. “Marcus, Agatha, thank you so much for having me, but I think I should go now.” 

Violet stood up and rushed out of the room, not noticing the look of shock on Marcus’ face as he looked at his middle daughter before quickly standing up and assuring Agatha he would go take care of Violet if she would do the honour of staring down Evelyn until he returned. 

“Violet,” Marcus called. “Violet, wait.” 

Violet forced herself to stop, knowing an abrupt departure would not be fair for either of them. Marcus caught up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, turning her around and noticing how she desperately was trying to fight back the tears welling in her eyes. 

“Marcus, I’m sorry, I-I need to leave.” 

Marcus pressed his lips together, a hand moving to rub the back of his neck. 

“Let me talk to her,” he said. “At least. Then we can speak again.” 

Violet nodded her head. 

“I-” 

She couldn’t say it, not after what Evelyn had just accused. 

“I know, I know,” Marcus assured and pulled her into his arms, squeezing her tightly, his lips pressing a comforting kiss to her hair.

His daughter’s reaction had caught him completely off guard. He knew this was exactly what Violet had feared and he had led her into it without warning. 

After a few moments, Violet let go of Marcus and began to make her way to the door, but not before he gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his arms for a tender kiss. He hoped, if anything, it might assure her that his feelings towards her would always remain the same, no matter what was said, and that he still had hope that Evelyn could be reasoned with.

Marcus wiped away a few of Violet’s tears that had escaped, his forehead pressed against hers, both of their eyes closed and soaking in the proximity the moment afforded them. 

“Deep breaths. This isn’t the hardest conversation we’ve had to have,” Marcus assured and Violet couldn’t help but chuckle with a little bit of mirth. 

Violet sniffled and wiped away her remaining tears, her hands pressed against Marcus’ chest. 

“Call on me when you are ready to speak again,” she instructed and he nodded his head. 

With one last chaste kiss, they parted ways, and when the door closed behind Violet, Marcus turned back towards the drawing room, wondering if maybe that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was what his fiancée had felt only mere moments before. 

—

“Lady Bridgerton?” 

Violet looked up from her embroidery, so lost in her piece that she pricked herself with her needle when brought out of her trance. She sucked some air through her teeth, putting her finger in her mouth and looked up at Mrs. Wilson. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you alright-” 

“Just a needle prick, nothing to worry about,” she quickly interjected. “Is he here?” 

She nodded her head and Violet gave her permission to bring Marcus into the drawing room. 

Mrs. Wilson didn’t waste any time in leaving the two alone, knowing they would skip the formalities of tea and cake and move straight to conversation, especially when something of great importance needed to be discussed. 

Violet placed her embroidery to the side, paying no mind to the small droplet of blood that was forming on the tip of her finger, her focus drawn back to Marcus. 

“So?” she asked as he sat next to her. 

“You’re bleeding,” he noted, taking her hand in his to examine it. 

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head and removed her hand from his, quickly putting her finger in her mouth again to rid it of the blood before clasping her hands in her lap. “Marcus?” 

He swallowed down the lump in his throat, knowing he needed to be direct with her about his conversation with Evelyn. 

“She seemed to think your kindness was manufactured,” he admitted. “All a ruse to lure me or something of the sort.” 

Violet pressed her lips together, her heart clenching. She had never thought someone might doubt her intentions of marrying again. She had gained many freedoms as a widow, something she had gotten used to over the decade being alone and she had even asked herself if she was willing to give some of those things up to be married again. 

Marcus knew all this, they had had numerous conversations on such a topic, and over time, Violet came to see the reality of the situation for what it was. In what she lost, she would gain a life partner, a second chance, and Marcus would never treat her as someone to be controlled under him, but rather an equal partner, someone to consult with, to enjoy the many things the second half of their lives had to offer. 

“I take it she is not to be reasoned with?” Violet asked quietly, and Marcus nodded his head. “Oh dear.” 

She could feel the tears begin to well in her eyes again. After all their struggles and conversations with Anthony, Violet had thought the worst of it was over, that they had passed the main hurdle in their attempt for a union. 

She wasn’t sure she had prepared herself for what was to come next, but she knew it was the right thing. They had both decided that should any one of their children be so firmly against the match that it would not be wise to proceed with the engagement. 

Violet chewed on her lip and looked down at her left hand, the opposite one coming to adjust the ring on her finger. 

“We cannot do this,” she looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears. 

Marcus pressed his lips together once more and nodded. That was the agreement. 

Hesitantly, Violet removed the ring from her finger, holding it in her hands for a few moments, reminding herself of its weight, the way it felt in her palm, the excitement in her heart when he had asked if she wished to spend the rest of their lives together. 

Without looking at Marcus, she placed the ring in his hand, tears streaming down her face as she did so. He took the ring, but after, Violet felt his thumb and forefinger on her chin, turning her face to his, encouraging her to look at him. 

“My dear Violet,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I am so sorry.” 

“As am I,” she whispered. “I love you so very much. A-And thank you for showing me that was possible once more.” 

Marcus chuckled softly and kissed away her tears, his lips feather-light against her face. 

“And thank you for showing me what love feels like.”

Violet lifted her hands to hold Marcus’ face, feeling the stubble of his beard on her fingers. She brought him down, slowly, almost hesitantly, in a kiss. One last thing to remember him by. 

When they had pulled apart, Violet noticed a few tears that had come down Marcus’ face and she allowed herself to offer him the same comfort he had just given to her. 

“I love you.” 

His voice was a choked whisper that shattered her heart. 

“I love you too, my darling Marcus.” 

They made no attempt to compose themselves, and Marcus pulled away knowing if he stayed any longer he would not be able to leave. 

Violet watched, biting her cheek, as he took his hat and slipped out of the room. She looked back down to her hands, a cold empty spot where her ring once was. She was alone, and what better reason to give into the overwhelming need to cry. 

—

To say Marcus was despondent would be an understatement. He made no attempt to keep up appearances, locking himself in his chambers in his sister’s home, claiming a headache each morning to get him out of any commitments he might be roped into by his children. 

Two weeks had passed when he finally decided it was time to remove himself from the confinement he had resigned himself to, joining the family for breakfast. 

“I must say I am surprised Lady Bridgerton did not pay you a visit when you were unwell, Papa,” Amelia said. “Perhaps she is, herself, unwell.” 

“Perhaps,” Marcus nodded quietly. 

“When will we be seeing her again?” James inquired, sipping his tea and looking to his aunt or father for an answer. 

Marcus looked over to Agatha for guidance and she simply nodded her head, knowing he would not be able to hide the news from them much longer. 

“I don’t believe we will be seeing Lady Bridgerton any time soon,” he said. 

Evelyn’s curiosity seemed to be piqued, she looked up from her breakfast, making eye contact with her husband before turning to her father to see if he might explain further. 

“Why is that?” 

Marcus swallowed thickly and leaned back in his chair. 

“We are no longer engaged,” he said. 

“You broke off the engagement?” Evelyn asked, surprised. 

“No, she did,” he sighed. “Now, might we please speak of something else?” 

“Of course,” Amelia answered on behalf of her siblings, easily changing the topic for her father to something more general such as the plans for the impending baby. 

Marcus was more than happy to speak about the arrival of his first grandchild, grateful that while still in a time of such emotional difficulty, he had something joyful to look forward to. 

When breakfast was finished, he made his way to the study, picking a book off of one of the shelves and settling into an armchair to begin reading. He was no more than halfway through the first chapter when there was a knock on the door followed by a quiet creak. 

“Papa? It’s Evie.” 

Marcus sighed and closed his book, temporarily using his finger as a bookmark. 

“Come in.” 

The door pushed all the way open and Evelyn walked into the room before shutting it behind her. She silently came and took a seat across from her father who tried his best to not let his hurt seep through. 

“What can I do for you, Evie?” 

“You said she called it off.” 

That was straight to the point. Marcus thought to himself. 

“Darling, must we speak of this? It is done.” 

Marcus did not want to dredge up old feelings, not when he was still so early into this separation. 

“If you do not wish to,” she nodded. “I-I just wanted to confirm.” 

“If it is confirmation you seek then you have it.” 

Evelyn swallowed thickly and bowed her head, excusing herself from the study, leaving as quickly as she came.

Marcus sighed again and leaned back in his seat, his book placed in his lap while his gaze was focused on the vase of flowers on the other side of the room, wondering why on earth his daughter was so eager to confirm such a thing.

—

“Mama, are you really going to sit here all day, again?” Hyacinth asked, coming to take a seat next to Violet on the settee. 

“I am afraid there is not much else to do, dearest,” Violet looked over at her daughter. “My schedule is decidedly free.” 

“Perhaps we could go for a promenade?” the youngest Bridgerton suggested. “Or go and visit Colin and Pen?” 

Violet could see that her daughter was attempting to get her up and moving, but she did not feel she had the physical or emotional energy to do such a thing. She much preferred to stay on the couch with her embroidery and leave it at that. 

“I could ask Benedict to accompany you if you wish to do that,” she diverted and Hyacinth’s shoulders slumped. 

“Oh my dearest, I am sorry,” Violet sighed and apologized, bringing Hyacinth into her arms and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I am just…” 

“Sad?” 

Violet nodded, letting out a shaky exhale which encouraged her daughter to wrap her arms tighter around her. 

“Me too, Mama,” she mumbled. “I really liked Marcus.” 

“You are not the only one, my dear,” Violet whispered into Hyacinth’s hair, continuing to hold her close. 

“Lady Bridgerton, Miss Hyacinth?” 

The pair looked up to see a footman at the entrance to the drawing room. 

“Yes?” 

“There is a Mrs. Jacob here to see you.” 

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet murmured to herself, trying to place the name. “Let her in.” 

Hyacinth still wasn’t quite ready to let go of her mother, but she noticed her shift in demeanour when their visitor entered the room. 

“Hyacinth, could you give us a moment?” Violet asked quietly, and Hyacinth looked up to her mother before reluctantly nodding and kissing her cheek before leaving the room, slipping past Mrs. Evelyn Jacob.

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet stood up and smoothed out her dress. “Can I offer you tea? Or perhaps cake?” 

“N-No, I’m quite alright,” she nodded. “May I ask for a moment of your time?” 

Violet pursed her lips. 

“I am not sure it is wise for us to be speaking.” 

“Then let me say this and I shall leave if you do not wish to see me again,” she pleaded and Violet saw the sincerity in her brown eyes, mirroring the glimmer of her father’s compassion. 

“Very well,” Violet agreed. 

“I am sorry.” 

Violet looked at her curiously. 

“You are sorry?” 

She nodded, “Yes, very much so. It was wrong of me to make assumptions of your character before taking the chance to know you.” 

Violet took in a slow breath before looking at the seats around her. 

“Can I offer you a seat?” she asked and Evelyn nodded, sitting on the couch across from her while Violet settled herself once more. “May I ask what brought on this change of heart?” 

Violet wasn’t entirely sure if she could or should call it that yet. 

“My father, he-uh, he told us this morning that you had broken off your engagement,” she said. “You wouldn’t have done that if what I had accused you of was true. You could have easily ignored what I had said and married him anyway.” 

Violet nodded her head in understanding. 

“You must understand, my Lady, I was only trying to protect my father,” she pressed. “Ever since my mother died I always had assumed he would remarry straight away, even though they had grown to care for each other, it was no secret my parents did not have a love match. I knew this was something he wanted, but he did not express so until recently. He grieved my mother more than I expected him to and I-I worried it would leave him hasty and vulnerable in attempting to try and find another wife.” 

Violet continued nodding her head as she listened. 

“Your concern for your father is admirable,” she said. 

“Lady Bridgerton, you need not be kind to me.”

“Mrs. Jacob,” Violet leaned forward slightly. “Evelyn, you were doing what you thought you needed to to protect your family. No one understands that more than I do.”

Evelyn wrung her hands in her lap, her eyes flicking between Violet and the floor. 

“Do you…do you love him?” 

Violet looked down at her lap and scratched her nose. 

“I do,” she said clearly. “Very much.”

Evelyn seemed to be even more ashamed with herself, but before Violet could say anything to reassure her, she stood up. 

“I-I am sorry, I should be leaving now,” she said. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

Evelyn rushed out of the door as Violet called for her to come back, but the young woman seemed to have fled the home. 

Violet sighed and sat back down in her seat, twiddling her thumbs. 

“Mama?” Hyacinth peeked her head inside the room. “Who was that?” 

Violet motioned for Hyacinth to come and sit with her and she obeyed, smoothing out her dress as soon as she was seated next to her mother. 

“Marcus’ daughter.” 

“Really?” She seemed astounded. “What did she say?” 

“It does not matter,” Violet shook her head. “What’s done is done.” 

“Mama,” Hyacinth pressed. “What did she say?” 

“She said she misjudged me,” Violet let out a breath of air and leaned into the couch. “But it is too late for anything to come of it.” 

“Why?” Hyacinth protested. “Why would it be too late?” 

“Because the engagement is broken, dearest,” Violet said plainly. “You have to understand, one does not simply continue to change their mind when it comes to marriage.” 

Hyacinth pressed her lips together and sighed.

“If you love each other I do not think it should matter.” 

Violet looked over at her youngest curiously. She was still a child in many ways, but had somehow developed a wisdom beyond her years, especially when it came to matters of the heart. She had always been perceptive of her siblings, and Violet supposed maybe she had been perceptive of her too. 

“Lady Bridgerton, Miss Hyacinth. Dinner is ready.” 

Violet looked over at Hyacinth who was quick to stand up and leave the room for dinner. She took her time, ensuring the pillows were placed nicely on the couch and her embroidery was put away before going to join the rest of her family. 

She was quiet through most of dinner, but as soon as the plates were cleared from the table she excused herself, calling for a cloak and a carriage. 

She waited anxiously while the carriage was prepared and as soon as she was seated inside she instructed the driver to head to the Danbury Estate. 

Darkness had fallen over London and the streets were mostly empty, which is why the sound of hooves, mixing with those coming from her own carriage, caught her attention. She peeked outside the window and recognized the familiar transport that belonged to the Danburys. 

“Stop the carriage!” 

She quickly alerted the driver and they came to a sharp halt only to hear the complete absence of hooves against the cobblestone. She frowned at her realization only to hear quick footsteps followed by a knock on her carriage door. 

Violet opened the door with haste, a relieved chuckle escaping her lips as she saw Marcus standing before her. 

“I was coming to see you,” she said. 

“And I you,” he laughed, a brightness returning to his eyes which had been absent in the past weeks. 

She moved out of the way of the door, an invitation for Marcus to slip inside should he wish. He accepted, but before he sat down next to her he knelt by her side, taking her hands in his. 

“Violet,” he began and she could not help the wide smile that overtook her features, small creases making themselves known in the corners of her eyes, only accentuating her joy. 

“Marcus,” she nodded for him to continue. 

“Given recent news I am hoping you will-” 

“Yes.” 

She didn’t let him finish his sentence, sending them both into a small fit of laughter. 

“I did not even ask you!”

“You did once before, that is enough for me,” Violet chuckled. 

Marcus pulled out that same betrothal ring from his pocket, a grin on both his and Violet’s face as he took her hand and placed it on her finger once again. 

“Perfect,” he whispered. “Just as it should be.” 

He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss over her ring, as if to seal it on her hand. Violet was quick to lift Marcus’ head, forcing him to look into her eyes while she simply admired him. The man who had captured her heart. 

[lifesizehysteria]

A Mother’s Blessings | A Bridgerton Fic

Part 7: Marcus

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Characters: Violet Bridgerton, Marcus Anderson Summary: A collection of moments through Violet and Marcus’ courtship in which Violet seeks the blessings of her children. AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

It took everything Violet had not to just stand in the foyer of Aubrey Hall and pace all morning. She did not know what time he would be calling, just that he had sent a note the night before saying he would be there by eleven at the latest, so long as there were no hiccups on the way. But, of course, that had not stopped her from waking at dawn, a persistent flutter in her stomach drawing her from a restless sleep. 

She had taken breakfast with Benedict and Hyacinth, picking at her plate, her stomach too unsettled to eat more than a few bites. If either of her children had noticed, they had not said anything, for which she was grateful. She had not told them he was coming. Neither would be around to receive him, so she did not see the point. Not to mention, if she did, Hyacinth would have found a way to wiggle out of her lessons for the day to make sure she was there, and Violet did not feel like sharing him just yet. 

After breakfast she had debated taking a walk. The early autumn air and the movement probably would have helped rid her of some of her anxious energy, but she decided against it. Although they had not had much rain yet, leaving the grounds relatively dry and suitable for walking, the truth was, she did not want to exert herself and risk being unpresentable when he arrived. 

Instead, she sat in the drawing room with her embroidery, hoping it might offer a distraction. Or, if nothing else, something for her hands to do other than twist endlessly into knots in her lap. 

She wished she did not know how much time had passed before his arrival was announced. Unfortunately, she had felt every single minute passing at half speed, and it had been impossible not to look at the clock every few minutes, so she was well aware that in the hour and twelve minutes she had waited, she had lived at least three hours and accomplished about ten minutes worth of work. 

Her hoop was placed on the table beside her as she stood, smoothing the creases from her dress, trying to ignore the way her hands trembled. 

She looked up to see him entering the room, his dark skin a stunning contrast against his bright smile. His eyes sparkled with warmth as he took her in, and she felt herself blush under his gaze, biting her lip against a smile that threatened to fill her entire face in a rather unladylike fashion. 

“Violet,” he said in his rich, smooth voice that was somehow both endlessly comforting and overwhelmingly exciting. 

“Marcus,” she replied as he approached, hands outstretched, reaching for him in a way that was far too familiar, but she did not care. When he took her hands, she would have thought they would still be trembling, but she realized that his presence had calmed all of the nerves she had been carrying around since waking that morning. Of course, there was still a bubbling of excitement in her stomach, but there was also a new calmness that enveloped her, steadying not only her hands, but her mind.

“It is wonderful to see you.” His dark eyes held her gaze, making her feel a little breathless as he lifted one hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against the backs of her fingers. “I have missed you.”

Violet felt her cheeks grow rather warm, her eyes fluttering away from his, but the smile that refused to be contained any longer told of her delight at the sentiment.

“I missed you, too.”

He ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands before letting go, and she brought them to rest over her stomach. 

“Shall we sit?” she asked, gesturing to the settee behind her.

“Actually,” he said, “I thought, perhaps, we might stroll.”

“Oh.” Violet cast her gaze down towards the floor, memories of their last stroll flooding her mind, making the color in her cheeks deepen.

“It is just, I sat all day yesterday while traveling, and then again this morning. But if you would rather–”

“No!” She reached out a hand as she spoke over him, wanting to correct his misunderstanding. “No, I think a stroll would be rather lovely. The fresh air will be good for me. I have been rather anxious this morning,” she admitted.

The corners of his eyes creased as he grinned at her. “Hopefully, you are feeling better now?”

Violet blinked before nodding. “Yes, quite.”

They smiled at each other for a moment, Violet entirely caught up in the way the light shimmered in his eyes. 

“Shall we?” he finally asked, pulling Violet from her thoughts as he offered his arm. She took hold of his elbow, wrapping both hands around it and let him escort her from the room. 

The air outside was cool, but she was comfortable in her pelisse, especially with Marcus acting as a wind block, a source of warmth against her side. The sun was muted, filtering through the overcast skies, softening the world’s edges as they made their way out to the grounds behind Aubrey Hall.

“Your house is rather quiet today,” Marcus noted, breaking what had been a rather comfortable silence. 

“Yes,” Violet agreed. “And not just today. It seems my nest is emptying rather quickly.”

“There are still a few little, and not so little, birds at home. They must be the quiet ones.”

Laughter burst from Violet’s lips as she shook her head.

“Certainly not. Francesca is the only quiet one of the lot. At the moment, only Benedict and Hyacinth are here with me. They are not ones I would ever describe as quiet, however, they are both occupied for the day. And Anthony will be returning with Kate in the next week or two.”

“Is that so? Are they not in India, then?”

Violet shook her head again.

“No. They decided to stay in England at the last minute, but opted to remain in London alone for a few extra weeks before returning to the country.”

“Ah. That is quite a trip to make while with child.”

“Indeed. Although, so far, Kate has had a rather easy go of it.”

“She is fortunate. My poor wife did not have even one easy pregnancy.” He was smiling as he spoke, a thread of amused nostalgia in his voice. 

“Poor thing,” Violet commiserated. “Eloise was by far my hardest, and the longest. It seems she was determined from the moment of conception to do absolutely everything on her own terms.” They both chuckled, and Violet found herself leaning into him as they walked. 

“Sounds like my Evelyn. Smart as a whip, fiercely independent, and determined to drive me to madness.”

“Oh yes, they should get along quite well, I would imagine,” Violet agreed, her hand settling against her stomach. 

They continued down to the winding path of the gardens, and Violet was not unaware of the similarities to the last time they had strolled together. Her stomach fluttered, but she pushed away the feeling, not wanting to hope for anything just yet. She did, however, let her hand slip down into his, their fingers lacing together. How she loved the feeling of his skin on hers. 

“How were your travels?” she asked, ignoring the hum that had started in her body at his touch. 

“As comfortable as a day’s worth of travel can be,” he replied, a playfulness on his face as he looked down at her. 

“You said you traveled most of the way yesterday. Where are you staying?”

“At an inn in the neighboring town.”

“Would you like to stay here? You could send for your things and avoid any more travel today,” she suggested. “We have plenty of room, and I am sure it is far more comfortable.” 

“That is very kind of you, Violet, and I appreciate your generosity. But it is a rather nice inn, and it is already paid for. Besides, I would not want to impose.”

Violet hummed her acquiescence, blinking quickly as she pressed her lips together. She was certain he had not intended any sort of rejection. His reasoning was rather sound, not that he would ever be considered an imposition. And yet, some part of her worried that perhaps she had overstepped.

A sudden rush of nerves had her fidgeting with the clasp of her pelisse, her gaze darting about as they reached the hedged area of the garden. It was particularly beautiful in the autumn. Though the flowers had all faded, the leaves on the bushes glowed in a fiery rainbow of crimson, gold, and every shade in between. Contrasted against a background of evergreen hedges, it gave the illusion of being transported into a painting, and although Violet would always prefer the blossoms of spring and summer, this garden during autumn occupied a very special place in her heart.

Violet’s worry faded away, and the quiet between them settled into something comfortable and tranquil. It was rare for her not to feel the need to fill such a silence. It was so infrequent that she experienced true quiet, because even when she was not nervously filling it, it was being filled by the sounds of her life, her children and their chatter. Of course, lately she was being forced to reacquaint herself with it, and perhaps that was aiding in her comfort now, but she felt quite certain that it had as much to do with Marcus’ presence as it did anything else. Even in the beginning, when she had been so nervous and tongue tied around him, she had still felt an ease in his presence, and it had been that way every moment since.

“Violet?” 

“Hmm?” His voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she tilted her face towards him, a delicate smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

“When we last saw each other, we spoke of a conversation–”

“I remember,” she said softly.

He hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing together as he looked out over the garden before he began to speak. “I have given this… exploration a great deal of thought,” he continued to look ahead rather than looking at her. “And I am certain that I know what I am hoping to come of it.”

Violet waited with bated breath, the anticipation almost torturous. But when he did speak again, it did not offer her any relief at all. 

“However, it is important to me that what I want does not sway you into any sort of decision. I want to know what you feel, without any influence.” Finally, he looked down at her, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “Violet, what is it that you are looking for?”

She blinked in surprise, tensing slightly at having to confront all of her feelings so suddenly. Of course, she had spent hours mulling over them in the time since they last saw one another. But mulling them over in her head, or even touching on the topic with her family, was quite different from speaking them directly to Marcus himself.

As they continued walking, to give herself a moment to collect her thoughts, she inhaled deeply, then breathed it back out. And as she began to speak, she found herself squeezing his hand unconsciously.

“I have also thought about it. More than I have thought about anything else over the last several weeks, and I have realized that I am open to the idea of marriage,” she said and snuck a glance at him, noticing the smile beginning on his lips. “But,” she continued before he had a chance to truly react, his smile faltering at the edges, “there are a few things we must discuss before I can agree, even to the possibility of marriage.”

“What matters to you, matters to me. I want to hear every concern you have, Violet, so that we might work them out together,” he told her firmly.

She could not help but smile, ever so slightly, at his eagerness to please.

“I am glad to hear that,” she said. “You see, Edmund and I… Not only was our union a love match, it was a-a partnership. Yes, we had our roles as men and women do, but he treated me in every way possible as his equal. Not only did he love me, he respected me, and I… I will not accept anything less from another marriage.”

“Violet–” he began but she cut him off, stopping as they reached the fountain area at the center of the garden and turning to face him. 

“Please, I am not finished,” she said with a rather uncharacteristic directness. This was the crux of her hesitation to remarry, and she intended to make it quite clear that she would not settle on this matter. “Widowhood is one of the few ways in which a woman can gain a true sense of independence in our society. Since Edmund died, I have enjoyed a life with far more freedom than most women could ever dream of having. I can go where I want, when I want. I have financial independence outside of the estate inherited by my son. I am no one’s responsibility other than my own, despite Anthony’s occasional insistence otherwise. And… I love my life, Marcus. I love seeing my children and my grandchildren, I love having the freedom to do as I please, to socialize how and when I see fit, and it is imperative that you understand that any marriage I enter into must not change this. I would like to have both—the love and companionship of marriage and the freedom of the life I have now. But if I cannot, I will choose freedom.” Her heart was racing by the time she finished, and she was a little breathless. Part of her worried it was too harsh, too direct, but she needed him to truly understand. He could accept it or not, and she trusted him to do so with honesty and integrity, but she could not risk losing everything she already had. 

A quiet chuckle rumbled in Marcus’ throat, an enamored smile spreading across his face. 

“My, you do sound quite like my sister.”

Violet pursed her lips against a smile, her eyebrows lifting.

“I should hope so. If anyone has shown me what a gift independence as a woman can be, it is her.”

“Good,” he said, laughter fading from his voice, replaced with a humble sincerity. “I would not have it any other way.” He took a step forward so that he could take hold of her hands. “Violet,” his tone was almost painfully tender, “I have no desire to take anything away from you. Everything you mentioned, it is all what draws me to you. Your independence, your love for your family, your ability to take on any challenge even when you are so nervous you cannot hold still… I admire all of it and—” He paused, looking down at their hands for a moment before his shining black eyes found hers once more. “I would very much like to marry you, Violet. If and whenever you are ready. So, I hope that you trust me when I tell you that the only thing I want to change about your future is that I get to be a part of it.”

Any tension she had been feeling melted away, and a sweet but radiant smile blossomed across her face.

“I would like that very much,” she said, her blue eyes sparkling like crystals in the hazy sunlight. 

Marcus took another step forward, closing the distance between them. At the same time, he released her hands so that he could take hold of her waist while her hands slid up his sleeves until her arms were twined around the back of his neck. 

Her eyes closed as he lowered his head, his full lips enveloping hers in softness, a stark contrast to the way his beard scratched lightly against her chin. It was a kiss full of aching want from spending so many weeks apart, and deep affection that had only grown stronger in that time. While there remained a barrier between their bodies of a few layers of fabric, there were no more barriers between their hearts, no pretense of undecided intentions there to keep them apart any longer.

As the embrace ended, Violet slid one hand up to the back of Marcus’ head, holding him near as she rested her forehead against his. Her heart was full to bursting, so much joy inside of her that she did not know how it could fit. But underneath was a tremor of trepidation because all was not settled. They had more things to discuss. 

As if reading her mind, Marcus gently said her name and then, “You said there were a few things we must discuss.“

“Mmm,” was her only reply. She was not ready to let go of the moment, and she let silence linger until he broke it again. 

“My dear,” he said and pulled back, the endearment all but making her swoon right in his arms, reinforcing how much she did not want to discuss anything else. Yet, he persisted. “What else is there?”

She let her hand glide around to his face, holding his cheek for a moment as she searched his eyes, the smile slowly falling from her face. Finally, she sighed and beckoned him to sit with her on one of the benches by the fountain. 

They sat with only a tiny space between them, both facing forward. Violet’s arms were tucked into her sides, her hands fidgeting in her lap, not sure how to start this next conversation. 

When Marcus laid his hand over hers, stilling them, her head spun in his direction, and she blinked at him. 

“What is troubling you, Violet?” he asked, the tenderness in his voice soothing her enough for her thoughts to begin to settle. Her lips pursed into a tight, strained smile. 

“It is, um…” She sighed and looked down at their hands. When she turned one of hers over so their fingers could interlock again, she noticed how big his hand looked, how sturdy it felt in hers. She pressed her lips into a line, biting the inside as she formulated her thoughts. “There is something else I must insist upon, as a requirement for marriage.”

“Anything,” he said without a moment of hesitation. 

“You know how important my children are to me,” she said quietly, looking up at him. 

“Of course. As mine are to me.”

“Precisely. Which is why I… I do not think we should… get married if any of our children disapprove.”

A moment passed before he quietly said, “I see.”

“You still have to meet Daphne, and I have not met any of yours.”

“I have no doubt my children will adore you. You make me happy, and as soon as they see that, nothing else will matter.” He smiled warmly at her, and she wished she could share his confidence. “Are you concerned about Daphne disapproving?”

Violet shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment. “Not particularly, though she has been known to surprise me on more than one occasion,” she added with a small laugh. “No. Daphne is not the one I am worried about.” Her eyes were troubled again as she looked back at the fountain. 

“Lord Bridgerton.” It was not a question, but Violet confirmed with a small nod. 

A quiet fell between them in which Violet’s heart grew heavy. 

“I have spoken to him, told him I would like his blessing.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing. However, he did choose to stay in England, and, although he has not told me as much, I do believe he did so because I told him I would not accept a proposal without it.”

Marcus nodded. “Perhaps, then, that will give him and I the time we need to become properly acquainted.”

“Yes, perhaps.” Violet blinked as she looked down again. He sounded hopeful, which she was glad for. It did not seem fair that her son could dictate such a matter for her, but she was still strong in her conviction. “Marcus?” she said, drawing his eyes to her. “You understand, do you not? I know it does not seem fair, it is just…”

“Your children are more important to you than anything in the world. I do not intend to come between you. If the time comes that it is clear any of the children, yours or mine, have an objection that cannot be resolved, I will bow out. For your sake.” He brought his free hand up to her cheek, tracing a thumb across its peak.

“Thank you,” Violet whispered, leaning into the touch. He understood, and even more than that, she knew she could trust him to keep his promise. His honor and his care for her only strengthened her feelings for him, and the lurking possibility that their relationship may never make it beyond this stage before ending pulled her heart nearer to his, the reality of the situation fully dawning on her. She wanted to kiss him again, to savor it even more than she had before, knowing it might very well be their last. For so long, she had been a widow and a mother, and that was all. But for this moment, she was just a woman, and he was just a man, and that was all they needed to be.

Her eyes searched his for a moment, looking for permission before sliding down to his lips, her own parting as want for him took hold of her. Finding everything she was feeling reflected back at her, she reached for the lapel of his jacket, pulling him towards her as she took his lips with hers. The hand on her cheek tilted her head up to draw her in closer, his other hand doing the same as he brought it to her waist until she was pressed firmly against him. Violet allowed him to deepen the kiss, opening her mouth at the prompting of his tongue, letting it glide against her own, sending a wave of desire crashing through her. The feeling of his lips moving with hers, the wet heat of his breath, the prickling scratch of his beard was a symphony of sensations that pushed her deeper and deeper into her desire until it consumed her completely. Placing her hand over his, she slid his hand down the length of her neck to her chest and over her pounding heart, until it was against the exposed skin of her breast at the neckline of her pelisse. His grip tightened, and the hitching moan he drew from her throat, spilling into his mouth, seemed to snap him out of it, and he pulled back.

“Violet,” he said in warning. Both of them were panting, Violet’s cheeks and chest were splattered a deep crimson, and although she knew he was right, that they had to stop, she realized she did not want to. She felt an aching pulse relentlessly thrumming through her, and she was breathless when she spoke.

“Are you sure you do not wish to stay?”

He pressed his lips together, eyes closing for a moment, having fully understood the intention of her invitation.

“As much as I would love to, I do not believe it would be wise.” 

She looked at him with eyes that were dark and heavy with want.

“Perhaps I do not care much for wisdom.”

Smiling, he brought his hand up from her chest to hold her chin between his thumb and finger, placing a quick kiss to her parted lips.

“My dear Violet, there are so many things in my life I have come to regret by not doing them the right way. You are much too important to me to risk adding you to that list.”

Violet closed her eyes for just a moment. While it seemed her heart, her mind, and her body were all at war, there was one thing to which they all seemed to agree.

“My darling,” she said with quiet reverence, “I think I love you.” 

Marcus chuckled softly.

“And I know that I love you, which is why I want to do this properly. Just… Give me a chance to work it out with Anthony, and then we shall cross whatever bridge we must, should it come our way.”

He sounded so sure that Violet wanted to trust him, and so she nodded, letting him draw her down into his arms, her head resting against his chest where she could hear the steady beat of his heart. She did not know what was to come, and part of her feared the worst. What she did know was that, no matter what obstacles might lay ahead for them, even if they were not able to spend their lives together the way they wanted, the love in her heart would be there forever, and nothing or no one could take that away.

[sleepyfireball]

A Quiet Acceptance of Love | A Bridgerton Story

Chapter 7: Harmony

Fandom: Bridgerton (TV) Rating: Gen Pairing: Violet Bridgerton/Marcus Anderson Summary: Violet Bridgerton slowly but surely falls in love with Marcus Anderson. A character study of Violet Bridgerton in Season 3. Notes: Well, this is the end! Finally here. I cannot tell you how excited I am to finally have a completed story fully released. I really hope you guys all enjoyed the story and I love every one of you. Massive thanks to my duckies @lifesizehysteria and @cptn-nash for betaing this whole story and genuinely being the best support in this whole crazy journey. I never thought that fandom would bring me some of my closest friends, but I am so so thankful that it did. Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1 AO3

Francesca and John’s wedding was, in Violet’s opinion, perfect. They were so clearly comfortable with the small wedding, and with each other, it warmed Violet’s heart. Her doubts had vanished after her conversation with Francesca. She could appreciate that their love was a slow and sure one, rather than one that was explosive and quick. 

Violet smiled to Agatha during the ceremony, and when Agatha had smiled and nodded back, Violet felt her heart become a little more full. Her season had turned out better than she could have planned, with two children successfully gaining a true love match, her friendship with Agatha now stronger than ever, and her own ventures back into the romantic fray. 

Speaking of the romantic fray, her eyes slipped over to Lord Anderson, standing just behind Agatha, as he smiled softly at her. Violet dipped her head and smiled giddily, feeling her heart flutter, just a little, remembering the last time that she and Marcus had been in the drawing room together. She swallowed and hastily returned her gaze to the happy couple, pushing such thoughts from her mind.

As Agatha made her excuses to leave Violet alone with Lord Anderson, Violet felt her pulse quicken in her veins. She watched Agatha speaking to Hyacinth briefly, then heard Marcus’ voice speaking lowly in gentle conversation.

“It was a beautiful ceremony.” She turned her attention back to Lord Anderson, smiling at him as she nodded.

“I thought so,” she said. Lord Anderson smiled before he continued as if she had said nothing. 

“Second only to the beauty of its hostess,” he said, and Violet almost thought he may have rehearsed his words before he said them.

Violet laughed softly. “You flatter me.” She felt a flush rising as she swiftly took a drink from her glass, desperately trying to prevent herself blushing even more. How was it that she could look at him and have entirely impure thoughts, but the moment that he spoke to her, she turned into a blushing debutante once more?

“I am sincere.” Lord Anderson continued, still watching her even as she turned away briefly. “And sincere in wondering, if you would be so kind as to, uh…” He trailed off. Violet watched, smiling, as he uncharacteristically avoided her eye contact. She felt lonely without having his warm eyes watching her and she sought them out once more. “Save a dance for me at the next ball?”

Violet blinked. And blinked once more. Had he– Had he just asked her, Violet Bridgerton, to dance?

“Uh, wha-- The, uh… Uh… Dankworth-Finch Ball?” Violet’s words escaped her as she desperately tried to pull herself together enough to be able to answer his question. “I… Uh, well…” Violet cast about the room, laughing slightly, hoping she would find the words she wanted to say written in the curtains. “Yes.” Marcus chuckled and Violet’s heart skipped a beat. “Ye-- Uh, That… That would be most adequate.” Violet finished feebly. 

She took another sip of her drink as she exhaled, disappointed in herself for being reduced to stuttering. Again. She felt, rather than saw or heard, Marcus next to her as he also appeared to sigh in relief.

“Good. Very good.” He said as he huffed out a laugh, Violet hearing it as if from very far away. She heard her blood rushing in her ears and the tips of her ears pinked in embarrassment. As John clinked his glass and began his toast, Violet heard her own words to Francesca, from earlier that morning, repeating in her head. 

“You know, when I first met your father… I could barely speak my own name; I was so taken by him. I stumbled over words most familiar.” 

Had love really snuck up on her in such a way that she had not expected it, but welcomed it home with open arms anyway? Perhaps she understood Francesca’s own love better than she had thought. 

“So, instead, I shall offer a few humble words to your family, especially your mother.” John’s words pulled Violet from her thoughts. “Lady Bridgerton,” I really must remind him to call me Violet now, we are family. “I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you have instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth.” 

Violet felt the blush warming her cheeks as she looked down, uncomfortable in the face of such brazen praise, especially from John, who always chose his words so carefully.

“In this moment, when I feel so much gratitude for my new wife,” John continued, “I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her.” Violet looked up to him, overcome, smiling softly as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart.” He finished, raising his glass for the toast.

Violet laughed gently as she wiped the tears from her eyes. She felt both Marcus and Eloise’s hands on her arms, taking comfort from them. She had certainly not intended to cry at another of her children’s weddings, but the emotions of the day, coupled with John’s heartfelt toast, had overwhelmed her.

Seeing her tears, John spoke up once more, smiling. “Ah. Forgive me. Tears were the last thing I meant to evoke.” As everyone chuckled, Violet breathed a sigh of relief as the attention moved from her.

“Hyacinth has been crying this entire time.” Gregory said, much to Hyacinth’s indignance.

“One day, you, too, will have a heart.” Hyacinth retorted and Violet could not keep the smile from her face in watching her two youngest bicker. At least, not everything would be changing by the end of the season.

“Mama, will you play a duet with me?” Francesca turned to Violet, a pleading smile on her face.

“Oh, heavens, when-- Now?” She chuckled awkwardly, torn between having one last moment to bond with the daughter that she was soon to be waving away or maintaining the last shred of her remaining dignity after being reduced to heartfelt tears. “I… Well, I am dreadfully out of practice.” She had not played the pianoforte since she and Edmund had played together, serenading the children. It had simply been too painful to play without him, but, perhaps, with her children, new memories could be formed.

“I believe the last time I nearly moved you to tears was when I first started playing.” Francesca said and Violet was no longer torn, deciding that whatever her mischievous child was about to do was worth it if it meant that she got to celebrate this time with her.

“She was not the only one. I wept in my room from the hideous chord combinations.” Eloise interrupted, prompting soft laughter from everyone and a gentle tap on the shoulder from Violet.

“Oh, haha.” Francesca dismissed her sister’s taunt, turning back to Violet and taking her hand, saying. “Thankfully, Mama did not abandon me.” Violet smiled, as Francesca continued. “And I shall not abandon you now.”

“Is that a threat?” Violet said laughingly, suddenly very nervous that Francesca would not simply let it go.

Francesca nodded wryly, and Violet chuckled softly, hearing Marcus echo her from where he stood beside her. Violet allowed herself to be dragged to the pianoforte, handing her champagne to Eloise. She felt her nervousness rise, and she took several deep breaths as she sat next to Francesca, who started their duet.

Under the watchful eye of her family and friends, Violet drew a little strength from Francesca, who had grown so much during the season. Violet could still scarcely believe that she was married, and would be leaving for Scotland all too soon. She laughed with Francesca as the chords clashed, releasing some of the nervous energy she felt, but, in following her lead, Violet found a harmony with her daughter.  Her words with her from the start of the season echoed in her head.

“When you play with another person, there is a certain vulnerability which can be quite frightening, I would imagine. But it is worth it, once you find that person with whom you make an unexpected harmony.”

Perhaps her words had applied to herself this season as well, not just with Francesca.

As Violet played her duet, she was overcome with the overwhelming love for her children that always threatened to spill out. She had always tried to steer her children in the right direction, but it appeared that Francesca had managed to steer her, too. Francesca’s insistence for her own happiness had warmed Violet’s heart, to know that her daughter felt comfortable enough to stand for what she believed in, but it also opened Violet’s eyes to a new perspective. Violet looked up and caught Marcus’ eye as she played. He smiled, oh so softly, and Violet felt her heart fall a little more in love.

***

As Violet entered the Dankworth-Finch Ball, leading her children, she took a steadying breath. Tamping down the nerves that constantly threatened to arise was proving difficult. However, when Violet’s eyes settled on Marcus, she felt her nerves suddenly calm and explode simultaneously. The butterflies in her stomach took flight and Violet swallowed, to ground herself. As he noticed her, he excused himself and walked over to her family.

“Lady Bridgerton.” Violet would never tire of hearing her name in the rich timbre of his voice. “May we take a turn about the room?” Marcus offered his arm to her. Violet swallowed once more, before taking his arm in her hand. The moment she touched him, felt the warmth of him through his coat, her nerves finally settled. It was not explosive and powerful as it had been with Edmund; it felt like coming home after a long time away. A different love, Violet supposed.

“I would like that.” Violet said softly, smiling. She could feel the eyes of her children, watching her, but, for tonight, she put her worries aside. Her children were bright enough to realise that she was being courted, especially if Benedict’s parting wink was anything to go by. Violet entered the ball as a partner and not just a mother for the first time in 12 years.

***

Penelope’s speech had both worried and impressed Violet. She was so proud that she had finally managed to find her voice after so long hiding herself underneath the voice of Whistledown. Violet, however, worried of how the ton would react, but, seeing the ball return to its festivities, she realised she need not worry so much. Her children were growing up and she had always counted Penelope in that number, ever since her yellow bonnet had blown Colin off of his bicycle.

Marcus turned to Violet, his voice low. “Did you know?” 

“That she was Lady Whistledown? Not until earlier this week. I received a letter, much like Her Majesty.” She turned to him, seeing a quiet look of amazement on his face.

“I am quite impressed, she seems like a very bright young woman.” Marcus said, looking over to see Colin speaking to Penelope.

“Indeed, she is. And, if I am not mistaken, Colin has finally realised just how lucky he is to have her.” Violet watched the pair as they began to move to the dance floor. She felt Marcus shift beside her and her attention turned to him, to see him offer his hand to her.

“May I have this dance?” Violet stood, for a moment. She knew he would ask, of course she knew, it was the primary cause of her nervousness tonight. But it had slipped her mind through the commotion with Penelope. She blinked, still staring at his hand. Before she realised it, she felt her hand in his, her attention focusing on the warmth spreading from his hand to hers. Her other hand rested on her stomach, as it always did, a shield between herself and the rest of the world. He led the way to the dance floor and Violet swallowed, pushing her nervousness down as best she could.

I have not danced in so long, what if I do not remember the steps? Surely people must be looking. A widow dancing with a widower, it is sure to -- Violet’s racing internal monologue was silenced by the feeling of Marcus’ thumb stroking over her hand reassuringly. He watched only her as they moved into position on the dance floor. He stepped in toward her, slightly closer than what was proper.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered to her. At his words, Violet felt herself relax slightly. She was not alone in this; every courtship took two people and she felt safe by his side. She had felt safe by his side for far longer than she was willing to admit. 

As the music began, Violet remembered the steps for their dance. It all came back to her surprisingly quickly. While it had been 12 years, she had coached all of her children through their dance lessons and it appeared Violet’s own dance lessons were still embedded in her memory. Glancing over to the other couples for a cue of the next steps, Violet felt Marcus take the lead. She focused on him. 

As they danced, she remembered the last time she had danced. With Edmund. She felt a wave of nostalgia and melancholy wash over her. In a perfect world, she would have been here with Edmund, dancing with him. However, he had passed on and Violet had made her peace with that. 

As she danced, she was brought back to the present, instead of lingering in her memories. She smiled softly as Marcus spun her under his arm. She could not deny that she was excited to explore whatever this would become with Marcus. As the memories of dancing with Edmund flooded her, she allowed them to come to her, but not to overwhelm her. She wanted to stay in the present, with Marcus, enjoying her first dance with him.

He took her in his arms, the closest that Violet had ever been to him. She felt him behind her, solid and sturdy; safe. The longer that she danced, the less the memories of Edmund overwhelmed her and she truly began to enjoy herself. Of all her deportment lessons, dancing had always been her favourite.

Violet beamed at Marcus, seeing him return her smile with one of his own. She realised that she had fallen in love with that smile the moment that it had graced his lips. She looked up to his eyes, to see them twinkling with happiness. She spun underneath him once more, unable to hide her own happiness shining through, and as she danced, she found that her heart was making room for this new love for Marcus alongside her own, ever enduring, love for Edmund.

[pensbridge]

S3 First Reactions 🪞🐝🦋🪶

❤️ Already fangirled about the whole engagement night - the hugs, Hyacinth!!!

Colin not being able to stay away for that long after their engagement announcement and immediately excusing himself at Anthony's suggestion is exactly what I'd expect of him. ×

❤️ Colin calling out Portia. "out of love." 😢

❤️ "OUR BRIDGERTON NAME" is so important, because it's reiterating that Penelope's getting to choose her family when the one she was born into is so awful

He was so nervous when she didn't respond to their new home.

"Because I love you...Pen." 😢

"Are you sure?" PEN, no 😭😭😭

❤️ That mirror moment (i love how he said "the way your eyes shine when you look at me..." callback to her complimenting his eyes) "...And other things..."

bxtch they stuck with the thread of Colin not opening his eyes to stay in the dream and Pen checking to see if it's real when they kiss

The eye acting of Nicola and Luke! (they are being doe eyes x the intensity of his gaze or w/e it is)

The gulp <3 Nicola

"You are so beautiful."

❤️ The first time!!!

"I hope my husband.." - Fran, AND John -"I would not dream of it" 😯 asdfjgkglyl

Kate & El (got their s2 vibes)

Ahh, the "Do I look a mess?" "You are my mess" was delivered so perfectly.

cute, cute, cute riding through town in carriage (no personal space)

The hand kiss in front of portia!

Colin handing Eloise the spoon 🤣

❤️ the charades game - the cutest thing (they're holding hands)

Also, fuckin Anthony being tooo competitive 😆

Peneloise rights! The back 'n forth in the game 😬

The panic attack was high-octane; the concern in the scene was cute xxx

❤️ Fran looking at John & Violet hating this story lol.....and then, me noticing her realization to another child in love

❤️ The look & collar tug in the church (polin is so dorky & domestic already)

❤️ Soooooo....the spontaneous dance in the church is better than I thought it was gonna be...their goofy footwork, spinning in a multitude of circles "dancing with MY FUTURE WIFE in THE CHURCH WHERE WE WILL BE MARRIED" bye

Part 1, the ton jokes and bullies them and Part 2, we just see people that can't help but get happy and giddy when they see their young love. Violet and Lady Danbury awwing at polin and embracing them in the park!!!

❤️ "I am going to look at the very fine wainscoting" -John, please! 😅

"Not every attachment must be dramatic and hard-fought." - Francesca 😢 bby, you're right

I legit went from this man has the crazy eyes ppl talk about to *tired eyes Wide-Open*... Bi Benedict?! ..I'm getting Bi Benedict?! (I was like: Why?Is?He?Staring?at?him?Like?That? (i knew i sensed the vibes! The Best Surprise!!!)

"This dance does not compare to a private waltz in the church where we'll be married." She's SO cute! "Well perhaps we shall have to add some flourish." Stop. km now (that's so him! he is so dumb; they're married already and dumb as they should be! ×)

Props again with the deaf representation & the sass when Miss Cressida enters the ball

"A scandal writer for a daughter. Can you imagine?" - Portia (i'm sorry i love this whole sequence)

Polin gets more perfectly dork w/stepping on feet being included during their dance at The Mondrich Ball (that's very them)

Thank god for Bridgerton giving us hour long episodes in this 2nd part.

❤️ Eloise admitting she's wrong (and so casually) 😢 ps i think they both have faults but i just love this

❤️ "The column began because I felt powerless in my own home." - Pen (well, i'm glad she said it!)

ok, now Pen admits her faults. all is right again

❤️ Irish accent again

"You are Lady Whistledown." This reveal was everything

omg, was this the scene where he wasn't supposed to cry, but did?! What would I have done without this reaction in such an important moment?! 😢

I love how Penelope highlighted the voiceless as she said she should with Eloise in her new edition of Whistledown

Violet to Agatha - "..but I hope you know that my care for you is not contingent on your aid." 😢 (she sees her)

This whole fight outside the modiste's. 😭

"I have been careful. You have been foolish.."

❤️ "I LOVE YOU" and he was shocked (an 'ily for you' moment) [i was not expecting the follow up to his line to go like that]

❤️ They deserve a hot passionate makeout before they are married where they get completely caught up after fighting.

"What am I chopped liver?" yes Anthony in this situation you are.

❤️ Violet calling in Kanthony for Colin marital advice

❤️ Yellow

The look at each other down the aisle.

❤️ Vows. Weddings on this show are usually so unhappy, but I appreciate that Colin is still so reassuring & clearly beaming about this when there is residual upset/confusion.

❤️ Eloise cryyinng

Ben's line to El- "..The friendship you have with Penelope... As the one you have with Colin." xxx (she doesn't wanna lose them)

"OUR child will always be a Bridgerton, but I should like them to know that they are a Sharma as well." fxck 🥲

"I should like to dance with my husband.."

The disappearing people in the wedding dance. like they're the only 2 ppl in the room! (Bridgerton either has it out for me [to cry] or loves me so much)

ANTHONY 👁👁 Marcus & Violet

Colin's hand caressing on Pen's face at the end of the dance they're really coming for me (bro did he almost kiss her?!??? i freaked out; had to rewind)

The queen excusing all non-Bridgertons + "Penelope, you are a Bridgerton now."

I kind of love that "Everyone except the Bridgertons are to scatter," but Lady Danbury's just there

GOD (I knew it as soon as it was coming) Eloise hugs Pen <3 🥲

ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod bi Ben

❤️ The hair grab!

This printer's assistant is on my shit list

SCOTLAND!!! JOHNCESCA

"It is not up to you what we do." 🤭❤️🤣 Colin mad but still ready to defend his wife (as it should be)

"I know my father was a good man and you are a good friend." Violet-Agatha feels

🙀He kept the letters!

💛John's words to Mama Bridgerton (her children's traits)

She said she was a fumbling mess in front of Edmund like 5 minutes before she is fumbling in front of Marcus

"Then how am I meant to help you?" ❤️ "By loving me."

❤️ Pen's love confession

"....to be a young lady to whom no one listens." - Pen!~Eloise shared look

Philippa + her "bugs"

😲 Lady Danbury x Pen (she knew! ❤️)

❤️ Colin's love confession (them crying together x)

El traveling with Johncesca

Mi-MICHAELA Stirling ... Bridgerton I swear if you are queerbaiting

OH MY GOD! Mama Bridgerton's words -FRANCESCA is fumbling her words.

❤️ Colin focussing on the hands in bed

Pen on top!

"Your father is always trying to distract with a clever word &..." "You think my smile is beguiling?" x "I could not have written without the help of Auntie Penelope." They are so obsessed with each other

Philomena?! did i hear that rt? omg Philippa

Yay we got confirmation of Colin's book! (I can only hope they're sitting in bed reading next season).

[dailybridgerton]

BRIDGERTON SEASON THREE Episode Three: Forces of the Nature

[littlerickmaniac]

We need more Violet and Marcus fanfics. I've been refreshing the ao3 tag for the past two days.