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May 11, 2021 19:15:15 GMT
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 23, 2021 18:29:09 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AEver since their little game at the last Granville soirée, Connor had resolved to keep an eye on Benedict Bridgerton. He could not precisely put into words what he found so intriguing about the man, but there was something in his childlike awe that amused Connor. Benedict was, of course, far from a child, but it was abundantly clear that this whole world beyond society's rigid expectations was new to the man, and he had not yet learned to take it all in stride. He was, in a word, sheltered. With this new door opened up, there were a dozen paths he could take. Connor was rather curious which one — or ones — he would choose.
And so he had watched. It was no surprise to see Benedict seeking the room full of artists at the start of the next party; it did seem that the man had a genuine interest in art, beyond what others might have feigned as an excuse to gawk at the nude models. Connor would have liked to get a peek at the man's artwork itself, but given the way Benedict had positioned himself in the room, it would have been impossible to look at the young man's easel without attracting attention. Next time, perhaps.
As the night wore on and the drinks kept flowing, Connor's attention began to wander a little. Lulled by the conversation and the wine, he found himself drifting outdoors with a small handful of other partygoers to pass a pipe back and forth in the garden. When, at last, he grew bored enough of the smoking to return indoors, he had almost entirely forgotten about his plan to observe Benedict. Until, that is, he caught a chance glimpse of that familiar Bridgerton hair — and, upon second glance, he found that the man had traded his artist's easel for the embrace of the dark-haired modiste, Delacroix.
He could not say he was entirely surprised. He had guessed at their first meeting that the Bridgerton boy attended these events for more than just art lessons and good wine. He did not know Delacroix well, apart from the few times they had made brief conversation at these parties, but he couldn't deny that she was a striking woman — it was little wonder that she had snagged the attention of Benedict. He moved on down the hall without lingering to observe them for too long, and for the next half hour or so, he found his entertainment elsewhere. When, however, he spotted the modiste passing by the doorway against which he was lounging, he called out to her.
"Delacroix, ma cherie." With his glass of wine dangling between his thumb and index finger, he grinned. "It has been a while, eh? Come, share a drink." |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 23, 2021 19:54:41 GMT
As fate, and perhaps her own actions, would have it it seemed her life had become entangled with that of Benedict Bridgerton, more so than Genevieve had ever intended. She had been shocked to see him that first night, never believing Henry would invite a Bridgerton to one of his sordid affairs. He hadn't quite looked lost, amazed rather, in awe of the manner of ways his peers were letting go of the expectations placed upon their shoulders. Benedict's face upon realising there could be more to life than rigid beliefs and futures set in stone from birth was not new; Genevieve had been attending parties like the one Granville organised since she arrived in London years ago, Benedict Bridgerton was not the first man to be amazed by them.
It was charming, in an entirely troublesome way.
Despite her recent actions however she did not attend the party for the sake of a singular man regardless of who he might have been. No, Genevieve Delacroix had declared to herself a long time ago she would not be the woman who did anything simply to earn the attention or affection of a man. She found it worked out rather well even so, when she wanted a man in her bed it hadn't proved an impossible achievement. But she kept her independence and that, was a lesson from her mama she had taken to heart, being taught that with skill and hardwork she could keep autonomy of her own life.
Connor Morrison was not really much more than a semi-regular at the parties taking place. He would be there if he was in London and Genevieve had exchanged few words with the man before. She turned to him, a polite smile on her lips as she approached. Genevieve nabbed the glass of wine from his hand before leaning against the opposite side of the doorframe. She was not sure if he had indeed offered her the glass or simply showed it off. Regardless of his intention it was hers now and she took a sip from the glass before smiling at him over the rim of it.
"Now I believe that is entirely your fault for escaping London," Genevieve quipped lightly with a nod of her head. "How long can we count on you honouring us with your presence this time, Morrison?"
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"To feel anything deranges you."
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 23, 2021 23:05:04 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AHe may not have known Genevieve well, but he had a bit of a fond spot for the woman. She was bold, in a way that few members of the ton dared to be; she knew her worth and her professional talent, and she made sure that no one in London could doubt either one. It was impressive, for a young woman to make such a name for herself in a city like this.
And she was bold enough, evidently, to decide that his invitation for a drink was an invitation to take the glass of wine right out of his hands. He had been planning on simply pouring one for her if she decided to join him, but no matter — he could just as easily pour a drink for himself instead. Opting for brandy this time, as the bottle was closer to hand, he poured himself a fresh glass, took a large sip, and let the liquid sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing.
"London will have the pleasure of my company for a whole season, as a matter of fact." Spending an entire season in London was something he had not done since his student days — it was almost odd, to be here as a fully-fledged adult and not a boisterous, greedy young man. "Edinburgh is exceedingly dull this time of year, and as I am to move to the continent in autumn, I thought it better to enjoy my last few months here in London." |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 6:20:49 GMT
Genevieve watched him resign to the fact she had elected to take the wine which might not have been directly offered from him without complaints. As Connor poured himself a new drink she sipped the one that was now hers. The brunette hummed in response as he informed her he was there to stay, for now. "And we are most fortunate to enjoy your continued company for a while longer," Genevieve mused, perfectly poised, perfectly polite, and yet here she could allow a small smirk to accompany her words that would've been impossible had they met in the park or elsewhere.
She wasn't surprised to hear the social scene in Edinburgh had taken a hit. The London season tempted people from across the country to settle into their fair city for a few months of the year. It seemed very logical to assume that when so many people removed themselves from their homes, went elsewhere, the social events in those places would become far less populated. No, during the season there was no better place to be than London, no matter how many snide comments Genevieve had to hear mamas direct at their young daughters.
"I'll have to take your word for it," she nodded, her own travels tend to take her onto the continent rather than north when she had the opportunity. Genevieve had made the journey only a few times, despite her own standing in polite society not being quite so high there was still a risk to it, and she was intelligent enough to understand it. However understanding a situation had never done enough to quell her need to find out more, inherently curious and determined since childhood she had had to be resourceful to find answers. Genevieve smiled, "I do hope you find a way to entertain yourself while we have you here, Morrison."
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 24, 2021 14:41:02 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AThere was certainly ample opportunity for entertainment in a place like this. When he had first begun attending Granville's parties, he had not been quite as wide-eyed as some of the young men who crossed this threshold, but he had been conscious of a fresh sort of excitement at the thought of the freedom the parties might bring. And for a while, they had delivered. He could gamble, drink, and gossip to his heart's content, with little fear of suffering any consequences for it.
But it had not taken long for him to grow a little weary of the whole thing, in truth. He found himself remaining always on edge, to a degree that few of the other partygoers were; while they indulged with genuine, joyful unrestraint, he kept certain checks on himself, which made the whole endeavour rather exhausting. Even here, a level of façade was necessary. And yet, he continued to come. This place might still require an act on his part, but at least it only required one or two layers of a mask, while the rest of society demanded three times that. It was not complete liberty, but it was enough.
And tonight, he was not in the mood to examine his own feelings on the matter. Tonight, he was in the mood to gossip, and Madame Delacroix had just opened the doors beautifully for that. With a lopsided grin, he knocked back another sip of his brandy, then said, "It seems you have found a good source of entertainment yourself, madame. Benedict Bridgerton, hm? A fine choice. You could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw that Granville had invited a Bridgerton to a place like this." |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 16:22:12 GMT
Genevieve laughed, lifting her glass to her lips, "should I be pleased I have your approval, Morrison?" She countered, her voice light with amusement even as she rolled her eyes. She had assumed that even within the liberating walls of the homes hosting the parties, away from expectations and stiff rules, people would still talk. Not that much changed; people still loved to gossip, and people seemingly included Connor Morrison. Regardless of her playful retort she did not feel a need to elaborate, to provide details of her dalliance with the second Bridgerton son.
"It's hardly the first time Henry has collected strays with him from ballrooms," Genevieve replied. The ton kept their children so sheltered, so protected from the rest of the world but also guarded from all of its possibilities. She had seen more people than just Benedict Bridgerton show up and be surprised by the hedonistic acts. In some ways the naïvety they showed was almost concerning, to think that they were being allowed into the world not understanding much, or sometimes anything, of it. Genevieve had not planned what had happened, how could she have? But now as she looked back on it she would not change it either.
Taking a long sip of her wine she finished off the glass, offering a sly smile, "there's always such fuss among my clientele surrounding those Bridgerton brothers," Genevieve mused, and it was not only amongst her clients the gossip flowed, "I suppose I simply desired to see what the fuss is all about," her tone remained light as she spoke, moving to pick up the decanter of brandy as she filled her glass.
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 24, 2021 17:02:40 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AAh, there was that quintessential Delacroix boldness. Unabashed as ever. He supposed he had rarely considered it before, but her profession must certainly have given her an ideal position for gossip. The women of the ton liked nothing more than to talk, and during the fittings and the consultations for the endless gowns they wore to endless balls, he supposed a fair few of them might choose to gossip with the modiste herself. Little wonder that she had grown curious about the Bridgerton men. He had not been in London long for this season, but he had already heard that name batted around more times than he could count.
Truth be told, he found most of the family exceedingly boring, from all that he had heard of them. Anthony seemed to be the very archetype of a stern, unyielding head of the household, so aggressively protective of his family that he had managed, according to rumour, to scare off nearly all his eldest sister's suitors before the Duke of Hastings had taken an interest in her. Said eldest sister, whose name he could not recall, was now happily making life in the countryside. The third brother, whose name he had also quite forgotten, he had heard very little about, except that he was charming and fond of travel. Boring, boring, boring.
Benedict, however... Benedict was interesting. His presence here proved that amply enough. Swirling the brandy in his glass, the Scotsman grinned and cocked his head to one side. "Well, Madame Delacroix, I really must ask: did the dear Mr. Bridgerton live up to all that fuss?" |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 19:48:27 GMT
One thing Genevieve was not quite able to do was put her finger on why he was so interested. The interest women of the ton held in all three of the older Bridgerton brothers made quite a bit more sense, every single one of the young women entering society wished for a husband with a good name and handsome face. However, their interest did not answer the question of why Connor was making inquiries. The honest conversation was refreshing on the other hand, Genevieve enjoyed people speaking openly, daring not to avoid certain words or formulations out of fear.
"Oh I don't quite think I'm qualified to answer that," Genevieve quipped back quickly, running her tongue along her teeth, "the gossip and fuss I overhear don't tend to be quite as sordid, I would not know if Mr Bridgerton intends to find himself a bride this season, however is very presence with us rather than in a ballroom charming some poor young girl in a corset which has been lace too tightly, does seem to answer that question."
The brunette smiled, lips curving up in a knowing way, almost smug, "but that's not really your question now, is it?" her own question was more rethorical and not, she knew Connor was not iniquring whether or not the women of the ton were discussing marriage potentials, when it came to eligible bachelors and women of the ton there was scarcely anything else discussed. "Yes," she declared, sipping on the brandy, "in my personal opinion, Mr Bridgerton is indeed worthy of his reputation."
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 24, 2021 20:53:56 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AConnor scarcely listened to her initial response. Everything concerning the man's marriage prospects was easy enough to glean from Lady Whistledown, if Connor cared to investigate. He came to these parties to escape from the mindless nonsense of the marriage mart, not to hear more about it. All the ton seemed capable of carrying about was who was courting whom, who had vowed never to marry, who had begun an affair with the stable boy, and on and on in an endless, boring, stupid swirl.
But of course, Genevieve abandoned that topic quickly enough. Given the phrasing of his initial question, he supposed he couldn't really fault her for taking the opportunity to tease a little. He granted her a lazy roll of his eyes as he tossed back the last dregs of his brandy before pausing to refill the glass again.
"He intrigues me," he confessed, keeping his gaze on the pouring liquid to ensure he wouldn't overfill the glass. As much as he enjoyed a bit of oblivion, there was a delicate balance to walk; he should not like to start the first month of the season by finding himself passed out in the gutter after one drink too many. When he had filled the glass to his satisfaction, he held the decanter out for Genevieve to take if she was so inclined. "Can't say why, really. I suppose I hardly expected anyone in that family to have a personality beyond sporting and dancing, or whatever they get up to." |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 21:16:12 GMT
She finished the remainder of her brandy quickly. "Thank you," Genevieve accepted the decanter offered to her and filled up her own glass with brandy before setting it down once again. She laughed at his confession because it made perfect sense, and had she not herself grown intrigued by the surprise appearance of Benedict Bridgerton that fateful night they had met?
"I believe I more or less told him as much when he first took Henry up on his invitation," she told Connor, smiling softly, "I only just came short of asking he was lost, after all, a Bridgerton in a place like this? In this company? Surely he had to have gotten lost." She admitted, an amused laugh following her words.
Reputation preceded the family and such a thing meant Genevieve would not have believed any of them bold enough to show face at such a scene. Not even Anthony Bridgerton who she knew very well participated in his own version of illicit affairs would Genevieve had expected to see. But then again, as Viscount Anthony did not have the freedom Benedict did to grace them with his presence. The third son was far too young, too green to ever earn such an invitation. The daughters young ladies of a good name and no one would dare to risk their ruin in such a manner. So perhaps it was no surprise that if a Bridgerton had to walk through Henry Granville's front door it had been the second born.
"He is surprisingly intriguing," Genevieve agreed, and dangerously charming. She sipped her brandy, "I should not dare to assume what goes on in any man's head to form his personality, but I do believe we have both been pleasantly surprised by our mutual friend."
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 25, 2021 15:01:02 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AAs much as Connor was rather disinterested in the rest of the Bridgerton family on a personal level, he had to admit that it would have been dreadfully amusing to see their reactions to finding out that Benedict spent his time in a place like this. He did not need to know much about Anthony or Violet in particular to know that any heads of the family would positively swoon to learn half of the things that went on in a place like this, let alone to learn that the darling second son took part in them.
Really, the more time that one spent in this place, the more ridiculous society's preoccupations seemed. Few things that went on here were really harmful — for the most part, people simply took their pleasure in gambling, drinking, smoking, sex, or art, and a good portion of the attendees seemed simply content with the chance to just loosen their cravats and breathe freely away from prying eyes. It was rather frustrating, that such simple things required the privacy of an event like this.
For better or for worse, however, that was the way London worked, and there was little to do about that. For now, best to remain content. Pausing to take another sip of brandy, the Scotsman shrugged. "He is interesting enough for now. We shall have to see if he has the guts to stay a part of this little world, I think. We have seen more than our fair share of noble sons who partake in the novelty for a few sessions and then go back to their cushy lives, hm?" |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 25, 2021 18:32:24 GMT
The fleeting element of who attended parties and events not quite suitable for the official social calendar of the ton was one of the reasons why it worked. People who knew of their existence would show up when they felt the need to; when the shackles of polite society became too much to bear. For Genevieve it meant she did not get bored, there had not been a moment yet where she had been forced into the same conversation again and again.
She understood the nobles who appeared with loosened cravats and corsets not laced quite so tightly, nobles who drank and gambled, who spoke without the same careful consideration used in ballrooms. Genevieve operated outside their social circles otherwise, just on the edge where she needed to be for the sake of her business, but even she needed a respite from it all. She could not imagine herself in the shoes of those young girls who she dressed, raised from birth to be perfectly poised and polite, to not speak out of turn, to not reveal too much and yet charm young men who did not want to get married enough to change their minds. The mere idea of it was exhausting.
"We certainly have," Genevieve agreed; she was sure some of them had lost interest, some had been too frightened to return, some had been forbidden to attend again, but the statement remained true, they had seen plenty young men come and go. "A fair assessment I would say, however," she hummed, "it is what this is all about is it not? The chance to act without express judgement so we should not pass final judgement on Mr Bridgerton until he's been given opportunity to prove himself."
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 26, 2021 15:35:35 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/AConnor's expression grew rather contemplative, as he leaned back against the doorframe. Lazily, his eyes slid their way over the milling crowd passing through the corridors — some stumbling on with drunken, raucous, unrestrained cries, some slinking like furtive cats as if fearing the ton's gaze might find them even here. Most of them, Connor recognised only in a vague way. He had not been in London long enough to start learning many names, but he had a good eye for faces, and at least half of the people in this house had at least passed by him at some ball or another.
In some way, that was comforting. It was pleasant to know how many of London's elites had sins to hide. Oh, everyone could guess that much, certainly — but there was a special comfort in knowing for certain. Connor would not have liked to admit it, even to himself, but a part of him enjoyed knowing that he was not alone in hiding certain things under the charade of perfection.
"Mmm." In the din of the house, Connor's soft hum of agreement was barely audible. Keeping his gaze still turned away to watch the stream of people, he lifted his glass and almost drained it. "Fair enough, I suppose. Have you seen his art? Doesn't seem to think highly of it himself." |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 26, 2021 19:13:18 GMT
While she had deduced the Bridgerton son's interest in art she had not seen any of it yet. She was not sure she wanted to either, it seemed like it would complicate things. Part of the charm was the ease between them, how they seemed in agreement on their arrangement; complicating it could prove problematic. There was no need to make anything that happened in a place like this too serious, it was meant to be fun and relaxing; not cause her more stress than finishing the next round of dresses before the next ball hosted by some lady of the ton.
Genevieve shook her head, "I would say there's not been opportunity for art," she answered, her voice taking on a near diplomatic tone as she barely opened up on any details of the relations she had formed with Benedict. It still could not really be counted as sharing and Genevieve lifted her shoulders in a shrug, the smile on her lips close to becoming a smug grin, "I believe we have been otherwise engaged when in each other's company."
She hummed, "if he is so self-critical perhaps our company is exactly what Mr Bridgerton needs," Genevieve declared, not thinking of the two of them precisely, but the way in which society's judgment was, mostly, left outside of the parties. It seemed a good place for anyone who had spent their whole life being critiqued on everything to find somewhere which they could receive a little bit of reprieve.
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Post by Connor Morrison on Mar 27, 2021 17:52:22 GMT
Tag: lennie3 Thread: Investigating Mr. Bridgerton Notes: N/ATruth be told, Connor was rather curious to see Benedict's artwork, if only out of sheer curiosity. He hardly expected the man to be on the level of someone like Granville, but Connor doubted whether Benedict was quite so terrible as he seemed to believe himself to be. He had to have some modicum of talent. It seemed to be a rather delicate subject, however, and Connor was not entirely sure how best to bring the matter up — something told him Benedict would only demur if he asked to see the man's art outright.
Evidently, that curiosity was not something he and Genevieve shared. He had to suppress a snort at her reply — there, again, was that signature Delacroix boldness. She certainly had a fondness for taking advantage of the opportunity to speak her mind in a place like this. He supposed he could hardly blame her, given how much polite society expected young women to hold their tongues.
He understood that she must have meant 'our company' in broad terms, not in specific, but he could not pass up the opportunity to make a bit of a crude joke out of her phrasing. "Our company?" he drawled. "Why, Madame Delacroix, if I did not know better, I would suspect you were inviting me to join in on your fun. Entirely improper of you." |
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