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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on May 8, 2021 23:24:08 GMT
Simon was not a petty man (at least when it came to people who had not sired him) and yet he was rather enjoying this conversation with his friend. Upon seeing Daphne well settled, Anthony and Simon had began rebuilding their friendship. Though it had never broken in truth, but they had put a dark weight on it, thus tested the bonds they shared.
Now, it seemed Anthony was in turn feeling like Daphne's suitors had once felt. While Simon was grateful for the events that led him to wed--they had not been fun at the time. "Very odd indeed." Simon agreed trying to hide his mirth, behind his drink. "One would think the younger one will have no suitors before long."
Which had in true led to Simon and Daphne needing to pretend to be courting to draw in the men, and ward off the women. It had worked, until they had fallen in love and it became less about the ruse and more about how much he utterly enjoyed a conversation with her. Something he said about so few people in his life.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Apr 24, 2021 2:23:54 GMT
He had not meant to belittle her with his crass words but once she spoke with a little fire in her tone, Simon realized that he had indeed done so--and that Daphne Bridgerton was not a timid miss. Not that he believed so, after watching her rescue her own self from the bumbling lord drooling around her skirts--but if felt different with words.
"I am pleased to admit it might know more of mine then I of his." Simon countered, with a grin both at her words and his own. He had indeed engaged in boxing with her brother on numerous occasions. Sometimes in good sport and sometimes Bridgerton was angry because Simon paid too much attention to his sister, As long as Simon kept his emotions tight in check, he could hold his own.
She admitted that it felt good, and he grinned at the cheeky comment. He bet it did. Had she not then he would have, but Simon liked that she had been the one to do it. "I suppose I too learned from simply doing, however I learned better form from Gentleman Jacks. A boxing house that both I and your brother have been too. Sadly no pirates' that I know of are there." A place that he couldn't imagine she'd ever wish to go.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 24, 2021 19:07:44 GMT
Simon let his eyes drift over the water as she pulled her hair around to bare her back. She was slender, and sometimes he worries he could hurt her, but Simon took care to treasure her. To make sure he never hurt her. That he never marred her perfect skin. He didn't want the ugliness from his past to tarnish the sunshine that radiated from her.
Reaching for the soap, Simon let his fingers linger over her's. Her skin was soft, and he felt it in his chest, that his woman choose him to be with. She had given up her wish for children for him. Moving the soap between his palms, he built a lather up before dropping it in the water to run his hands over her skin. His fingers moved over her back, and washed her skin. While there was no signs of dirt on her, he still moved his hands over every inch. Taking this time to learn the dips, and curves of her shoulders, following down to her back. Letting his fingers travel under the water to cresses the skin there.
Leaning in, Simon rested his forehead on the side of her face to breathe in the scent of her. Not just the soap but of her. One hand moved around to rest on her arm, only half pretending to wash her skin there. "You will tell me if you become chilled, will you not?" He whispered, not wanting her to become cold. After asking, his hand moved from her arm to her neck, tilting her face to look up at him. "I would be displeased"--at himself--"if my wife grew chilled and I was to fault." Leaning down he kissed her, slowly at first but then deeper.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 24, 2021 17:41:13 GMT
This whole thing had been Simon's plan. His plan to undo that annoying Gossip writer's affect on his life, and be able to enjoy the season without the need to hide away. The match making mama's would move on when they assumed he had picked his duchess, not wishing to waste their time on him. Meanwhile, the lords of the ton would begin approaching her again, as they would all want to be the one to steal her from a Duke--or perhaps assuming that Simon had taken care of the 'over protective brother' and it was safe to approach her again. Which was the more most foolish thing he had heard. If you were too timid to stand up to the girl's brother then you didn't need to approach her anyway.
Daphne begin talking about the weather, and while the topic was a safe one she also didn't say the normal boring comments on it. Simon felt the corner of his lip tighten in what could almost be a smile. Once she laughed, he smiled in earnest. "Are we to talk of the weather, Miss Bridgerton?" He challenged softly, making sure his voice was not to be heard. "Is this your plan to woe some buck into asking for your hand? You will learn nothing from a man asking about the weather." Simon might not have plans to marry her, but he understood her wish to make a good match. While her comments about the weather were refreshing and frankly--on point--he did not plan on spending the ruse talking about the weather. "Tell me. Was it your brother who taught you to plant a facer?" He knew from her brother that she had not known her father well, so he assumed it was not him.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 24, 2021 17:21:14 GMT
Why a young man as serious as Simon enjoyed spending his days with Anthony didn't make since to many. However it was because he was so serious that he enjoyed spending time with Anthony. He had never had a brother, or family, that did these things to him. No one dared crossed him often because of his 'father'. Yet, Anthony had never cared that Simon was the son of a Duke--he had only seen Simon as a friend. And to which, Simon was grateful.
"It's amusing that your words follow such a direct path to the events." Simon told his friend, "It is as it seems that you might know something about this?!" This being the goat that was currently making a meal out of his clothes! Simon moved forward quickly to his friend, but they both paused when one of the professors walked by. As if they both knew it was best not to draw attention. It took but seconds for the professor to pass but it felt longer.
Once the hall was clear once more, Simon looked at his friend. "It ate my hat!" Simon didn't raise his voice to this, as he didn't yell. Simon never yelled. However he did emphasize his words more now then he had ever before. This was why he was friends with Anthony. It brought such things to his life.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 24, 2021 17:11:36 GMT
Simon took the offered chair, walking across the carpeted room in measured strides to each it. As with most well off noble homes the chair was plush and comfortable. Simon relaxed in it just enough that he could cross one leg to rest his booted ankle on his knee.
"Daphne wishes to visit her mother to inquire if her plans were to stay in London or to retire to the county for the off season." Simon begin explaining in his normal slow cadence. While many just accepted that Simon didn't rush when speaking, he--and not his wife--knew that he took effort in controlling his voice. Assuming that each sound came out with perfection. "I thought to share a drink with a friend." Surly Bridgeton had something worth drinking here. If not they could seek out something at White's but he didn't seek other company right now.
Things had changed between them many times over his courtship of Daphne. Simon knew some excuses were in order, but at the same time he was a duke and never had explained himself to anyone. He planned to give Anthony the simple version without detail. So that his friend might know that he had not lied to him, but that Daphne had in fact taken him by surprise.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 24, 2021 16:59:40 GMT
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 10:33:01 GMT
She turned to face him, and then instantly tilted her face up. Simon didn't need more of a cue then that to take her lips with his own, even though she gave him one of starting the kiss herself. His hand lifted up to touch her cheek, tilting her face just so to let him deepen the kiss for a moment. When she pulled away, just enough to tempt him to climb in with her, he found a smile tugging on his lips. Something that had happened to rare in his life with ease. He had laughed and joked, and enjoyed friends. Never had he just smiled for the sake of being happy. Daphne made he feel such emotions. Made he smile for such reasons. No humor or joke needed. Oh odd the power she had over him, and how willing he was to let her have it.
"But, your grace, who would help you bathe then?" He asked with a bit of mischief in his tone. While he planned to fully enjoy his wife in the bath before the water chilled to make her cold--one could not pass up the chance to have her quite so beautifully (and literally) in the palms of his hands. He had not lied tot he queen when he told her that he thought Daphne the most beautiful woman. He had not always seen her such (pretty yes, and desirable even more so) but beautiful?
It had taken him a short while to see that. He had been fighting so hard to remain apart of everyone around him that when he finally saw her--really saw her--he could not think of anyone else. Pushing to a stand he walked to the side of the tub so he could look down at her, while removing his coat and tossing it to the side. Followed by his waist coat, tossed in the other direction. "Allow me to give hand in helping you finish your bath." Kneeling back down by the side of the tub, he rolled up his shirt cuffs and smiled at her as he then rolled up his shelves.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 9:57:51 GMT
The Duke's horse trotted up the lane, safely away from the mothers who would all but toss their geams under his horse in order to gain his attention. The last thing he wanted right now was to have to listen to them talk, and fawn over him. Since arriving in London he had learned that it was best to avoid them--only one could go no were and not pass by them. They 'happened' to walk by his solicitors. They 'happened' to walk past his house. They even once 'happened' to be walking past Will's establishment. Which was no only odd but nearly made the Duke (a man who could face anything) hide.
They wanted to talk about his father. That was their go too introduction. They were always sorry to hear of his passing--and frankly Simon was hoping the old bastard was rotting. He didn't want them to be sorry. He wanted to never think of the man again. He had been escaping them for a short while in the dark walk when he had found Miss Bridgerton on her own with that half wit. And thus . . . the perfect plan. Since attaching himself to her he had lost a lot of the adventurous Mama's from following him--though he had seem to lost Anthony's favor as well. But once this ruse was ended, Anthony and him could move on.
Simon dropped his horse with a stable boy that lined the walk, and dismounted with a slight jump. His long strides too him quickly to the party of ladies--Daphne, her mother and lady Danbury. After a polite bow of his head and brief greeting to them (making sure to tell them they looked well as was polite), he offered Miss Bridgerton his arm. "Shall well?" He asked with a bit of arrogance, and amusement. He enjoyed this, which should have told him something. Something he was having too much fun at the moment to pay heed too.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 9:32:42 GMT
Clyvedon held many memories for Simon. While not all bad, none were patricianly fond or good. After his mother's death trying to give him life, he had been raised here. It was his father's way of forgetting his imperfect son was alive. The former Duke hated that his only son--only child--was flawed. He told Simon so. Told he that he was dead to him. That he was an imbicile. And Simon had spent his whole adult life trying to prove his father wrong. At first he strove to prove himself to his father. He had to be the best at he could be. Score higher marks. Ride better. Shoot better. Speak . . . speak better . . .
He didn't always end up the best, but it would not have mattered if the king himself had called Simon great. His father hated the idea of the Hastings line becoming weak. It would not be until his dead bed that the old Duke finally admitted to Simon he was proud of him. It would have been too late. The years of begging for approval, and pleading letters, had turned Simon's need to impress his father into a need to hurt him the way he had hurt Simon. A vow. A promise that would make every second of the old Duke's life pointless. It gave him satisfaction knowing these were the last thoughts his father had. The last words the man hard.
What he had not thought of was falling in love. And Simon knew he loved his wife, even as he didn't tell her. It was hard for him to say such words. He knew she deserved better then this half life he could give her. That over the years she could grow to hate him as much as his father had but . . . but he wanted her. Wanted the peace the brought him. He never had to try to speak or ignore the affects of his father when he was around he. He laughed with ease. Enjoyed life with ease. Her family even made him feel less alone in the world.
It was with these thoughts he put the letters back in the drawer. The very ones he wrote to his father over the years. And went to look for his wife instead. The hour was growing late and he felt the need to loose himself with her now more then this morning.
Walking the halls it was not hard to find her. She was in the room adjacent to theirs and in the bath. A slow smile crept over his face as it turned to a bright grin. Oh yes. This was perfect. Lifting his finger to his lips, he nodded his head to the door--a sign for Rose to leave without saying anything. Leaving him standing behind his wife instead of Rose. Knowing she was unaware he was there, Simon watched her silently as she spoke to the now absent maid.
Moving to kneel behind her, Simon leaned forward to brush a kiss over her cheek.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 9:08:20 GMT
With most the ton leaving London within days, soon it would become almost unrecognizable from the bustled chaos that it was when this began. Daphne was here to visit her mother, so Simon took the chance to check in on his friend and try to . . . ease into the friendly banter they once had. In the recent weeks they had had many disagreements, a duel, and a public brawl at White's. None was good for the Ton nor for their friendship. And despite how it could have looked these weeks--Simon did indeed value that friendship.
A servant led the way to Anthony's study, before calling and introduction as Simon entered. "Bridgerton," he greeted. While Simon was sure of his welcome, he wasn't sure of the ease at which they could convers today. Talking had never been something Simon was comfortable with, but it had been less of a chore with Anthony then it had been in his childhood. Anthony had helped pull Simon out of himself in his youth and he valued that.
And he intended to make effort in trying to help mend it toward being what it once was if they were able too. While things were not awkward between them, he wanted that ease between them once more.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 8:58:07 GMT
Simon Bassett wasn't used to being around this many people, or even making friends. For most of his live he had lived at Clyvedon alone with the household staff. At least until he was 11 and Landy Danbury came in and walked him out. Since then he had been pushing himself to be perfect in very way he could. If they learned fencing--he had to be the best. If they were riding--he had to be the best. While it didn't always work out that he was the best, he tried just the same.
At first he hated it when holiday came and others went home. However, he had learned that it was best if he didn't have anyone around to disappoint. Now, at 17 he had learned to let people flow through his life. While he might call a few friend, he had strong attachments to anyone. Not bonds that controlled his moves.
Walking into hos dorm, Simon tossed his hat toward his bed but froze when he saw the barn animal there. A goat. There was a goat in his dorm where he could have sworn his other hat used to be. The goat started making a lot of noise, so Simon took a step back and closed the door. It was as if he hoped that if he opened it again the goat would have been his imagination.
There was only one who would do this to him. "Bridgerton." He hissed in both full amusement, and equal friendly-anger. Turning so he back was to the door, Simon looked around--almost knowing his friend would be lurking.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 21, 2021 8:42:20 GMT
Would you have really shot me?
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 17, 2021 14:39:11 GMT
Simon was coming very close to hating his life. Life had been simple before he had come to care for his friend's sister. Before he had come to want her for his wife, knowing he couldn't have her. Before he had trapped her into this marriage and a life that would never be what she wanted for herself. He knew that by following her into that garden, he had sealed their fates. He had been ready to die (thus keeping his vow to his father) rather then marry her and leave her in a marriage she didn't want and with no children--something she did want. Instead, he was now marrying her. And he wanted to marry her. He wanted her in his life. but in doing so, he knew she would come to resent him, and it would break her heart when she never had a child of her own.
Another reason he was displeased with his life was his once friend turned . . . He wasn't sure how Anthony saw him now. Anthony had actually shot at him. While Simon had known Anthony was angry (and rightfully so) he hadn't really been ready to know that Anthony wanted him dead. "Bbridgerton" Simon greeted with a nod, ignoring the almost stammer that came out, and grateful it was small enough to be mistaken for a slow beginning to the name. How different this meeting was then the one where he first met him here after arriving in town. It was on the tip of his lips to ask 'how is your sister?' but wasn't sure if he was asking because he really wanted to know, or to see how Anthony would react. In the end, he said nothing, letting Anthony take the lead and set the tone for the conversation, while giving Simon a moment to control his voice.
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Post by Derrick Kenworthy on Mar 17, 2021 14:23:29 GMT
London never held much appeal to Simon, who instead liked the simpler life of the country where he wasn't accosted by 'good meaning' people who wanted to tell him how sorry they were his father was dead--or worst compare him to his father. Every time one of these debutant mothers approached him to sing the praises of her prized pet daughter and told him how much he looked like his father, or how sad they were he was gone--Simon wanted to make them eat their overly stuffed bonnet.
He wasn't sad the bastard was gone. He didn't want to look like him, or be like him, or even be the Duke right now. The Hastings line was dying, and he was going to be what killed it. His father could watch from Hell as his hated idiot son let it die slowly. It was a vow he'd made years and years ago--but had only recently told it to his father. It was the last thing the old man had heard, and Simon took pleasure in that.
His father was the reason he didn't like London, or even a lot of people in London. The social world and the appearance of perfection had meant more to the Duke then his son--so Simon had come to hate it all.
With the exception of an old and dear friend. One who Simon never felt pressured to talk with, so the words came more with ease. "Bridgerton," Simon greeted, walked over to join his friend and letting the thoughts of his father slip away for a short while. Simon ordered his drink, and then offered Anthony his hand in a formal but warm greeting between old friends. Only then did he take the offer seat. He liked that with Anthony he could be Simon, even if Anthony called him Hastings. "It is good to see you. I had planned to let call on you before I left. Lady Danbury . . . insisted I join her at her ball or I would have told you I was in town before." It wasn't a direct apology, but between friends that wasn't always needed.
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