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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on May 10, 2021 22:25:59 GMT
Oh, Eloise. Daphne loved her sister dearly, wished her well in every endeavor she undertook, but their goals in life were so very different. It was what drove them to argue and pick at each other (Daphne distinctly recalled a night in which she had intimated that Eloise was a reason why she might reconsider her opinion of children). Pressed, Daphne might have even admitted that Eloise’s clear views on the institution of marriage and all that it contained had made her wary of relating her happy news. Not that she thought Eloise would speak ill. But she was filled with such contentment that she was loath to even risk a slight puncture in her bubble.
She began her work on Eloise’s hair, taking care to avoid cause tangles. The offer to braid had been impulsive, and so she had neither brush nor comb with which to work. Slowly, her fingers found a rhythm and her mind relaxed.
“Being a Duchess involves so much more than we ever learned from our governess, or even from Mama. I think you would rather enjoy some of the work. There is quite a bit of organizing and arithmetic. Not to mention the wonderful stories I hear every time I go to the village near Clyvedon. Talk of planting, and animals, and the feelings of satisfaction at the end of a good day’s work.”
She had enjoyed each of the properties that Simon had shown her. They were grand and splendidly decorated, and she looked forward to making her own complementary marks. But Clyvedon was the one with which she had fallen in love. She desperately hoped that Simon would allow their child to grow up in such a wonderful place, replacing old, horrible memories with brilliant and lovely new ones. She glanced down and smiled, a few of Eloise’s locks falling from her right hand as she touched her belly. Her child would be loved and be surrounded by love. She was sure of it.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on May 4, 2021 0:23:26 GMT
Daphne froze, horrified at the sudden turn in conversation. She should have known that teasing Benedict would result in equal turnabout. He was a Bridgerton, after all. Wistfully, she imagined all of the places she could have been, rather than in the library, trapped between a secretive brother (what was he hiding?) and an overly-inquisitive sister. And the afternoon had started out so lovely, too. The cup in her hand shook slightly, throwing drops of tea onto her frock and making an odd design on her chair. Drat it, she had made a mess.
Slowly, very slowly, she lowered her cup and glared with all her might at Benedict. Surely if he had not mentioned the change in her complexion, Hyacinth would have been none the wiser. The better for it, too. She placed the tea cup on its saucer and smoothed her skirts, buying herself time to gather her thoughts. Perhaps she could unknot this problem.
“Fear not, Hyacinth. I am well. And enjoying this lovely tea too much to ring for lemonade.” Not to mention that it would make so much unnecessary work for a servant simply to perpetuate a ruse. The day was warm, but a comforting warmth. A warmth that wrapped her up like the arms of her husband and held her close, lulling her to sleep. “I am just so full of surprise at the thought that Benedict might be hiding something from us!" She looked directly at the man, "What was it that Hyacinth was peering at, brother?”
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 18, 2021 6:47:35 GMT
She giggled as Benedict scrambled to grab her projectile. His face. It was too precious, she could not help herself. If only he could see himself. He had been so frustrating, and she had only been too willing to return the favor. The laugh traveled up her body, until she found herself bent nearly in two. Each time she looked up, a new fit overtook her. Long moments passed until she found herself able to stand and speak again.
“No, of course not, brother. Of the two of us, I have always been the one with more sense. And that remains true.” He was still there, clutching the pillow that she had lobbed. But he had dropped the one which had first been in his possession, finally allowing her to look at him properly. She cocked her head. His trousers were not merely rumpled, they were… well, the only word she could use to describe the disarray was twisted. But how did articles of clothing manage to contort themselves so?
“What was it that you were doing, brother, to be arranged in such a state? My pillow notwithstanding, obviously.” Really, he had managed to work the fabric so oddly. She did not think she had every seen someone — man or woman — quite so rumpled. Even hanging on the wall in some portrait or other. Simon. Simon had perhaps looked in a somewhat similar form the night of the Vauxhall encounter as she preferred to think of it. Odd.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 18, 2021 6:33:35 GMT
They were back on neutral ground, discussing fabric and sewing and all manner of things decided not related to the thoughts occupying Daphne’s mind. It was a good thing, too, that Madame Delacroix’s hands were so efficient. They further distanced the pair from a vision of Simon’s hands doing nearly the same thing to the dress. In fact, Daphne would have sworn that it was those exact actions that had started the series of events which had deposited her onto this platform. Oh, how the world spun in a circle.
“Rose is quite skilled with a needle, more than making up for my own deficiencies at the craft.” She chuckled, remembering how several of her siblings likened her work to battlefields. Or pictures even less enticing. Even her own mother, kind woman that she was, could barely form the word ‘passable’ when she viewed the embroideries.
“And lace sounds lovely! Perhaps in small trims on one or two more formal dresses? I am not one for heavily bedecked frocks normally, and especially not at such a time as this.” That the modiste would pay her such attentions gave her no small amount of elation. She knew that she had not grown very much yet, but already she felt slightly frumpy, like a spinster aunt to be shuttled into a corner and ignored. And Simon would enjoy the trim. She would make sure of it.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 18, 2021 6:06:42 GMT
She heard music from some invisible source. There must have been frogs pouring from the Thames or Moses had just convinced Pharaoh to relent. For Anthony Bridgerton had actually agreed to her terms. She could not have been more astonished if someone had told her that she was to marry that very day. True, his promise was tempered by the sheer fact that he would surely feel the need to intervene loudly and often. Still, though, he had relented. She tried to keep the teasing humor from her face, but could not help merriment from reaching her eyes.
“Thank you, Anthony. Truly.” Reaching out, she touched his hand to ensure that he understood the sincerity of her statement. “I know that we do not see on a level for this issue, but I, too, take my responsibility seriously. You have my word.”
He would make a fine father to his own brood one day, she realized. She had spent nearly half her life with him as her protector, the young man thrust into the viscountcy far earlier than anyone deserved. But he had always been her brother: first as a distant figure off at Oxford and then returned, only to remove himself to bachelor lodgings. In the time since the Season had begun, he had shown himself to be quite adept at the overbearing attitude of a dissatisfied parent — an attitude that she had strongly objected to. And here, tonight, she had seen another side. A softer, more reasonable, more compromising side. She wondered if, perhaps, she would not be the only one to find a match.
Or perhaps she would. His earlier objections had been quite strong, after all.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 15, 2021 1:51:48 GMT
Daphne would never have been able to describe the noise that she had heard, even if she wished to. And she did not. Benedict was being far too frustrating, far too… exasperating for her. If he wanted to keep his secrets, that was his prerogative. She had had it with men and their inability to give a straight answer. First Simon, and now her brother. It was enough to put one off of talking to men altogether.
She took a step towards him, then another, affixing her face with the widest smile she could muster. Three more steps and she had arrived at the edge of the bed. She reached out and grasped the corner of a pillow, never taking her eyes off of her brother. If he wanted to be obstinate and rude and continue to stand there with that damned pillow then she, as his eldest sister, was required to teach him a lesson. And so she, Daphne Bridgerton, threw the cushion at Benedict's head for all the feathers it was worth. It felt so very satisfying to watch it sail through the air towards its target.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 15, 2021 1:23:40 GMT
Ahem:
I Ben a Bad Boy
Ben Missing You
Beneath the Surface
The Benefactor (or The Ben-Factor)
HellBent
I Can Be Your Bench [alright, this one had me groaning]
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 14, 2021 0:01:07 GMT
Here's a small playlist of songs that remind me of the various members of the Bridgerton family. I'd be curious to see opinions of song/character matches: | TITLE | ARTIST | | Comeback - stripped | Ella Eyre | | Too Good At Goodbyes - Live at Abbey Road | Sam Smith | | Main Girl - Stripped | Charlotte Cardin | | Time | Ella Harp | | Silence | Marshmello, Khalid | | Little Runaway | Celeste | | Sweet Dreams are Made of This | The Hampton String Quartet | | Dandelions | Ruth B. | | The End | JPOLND | | You Should Know Where I'm Coming From | Banks | | If the World Was Ending - feat. Julia Michaels | JP Saxe, Julia Michaels | | i hate u, i love u (feat. olivia o'brien) | gnash, olivia o'brien |
If anyone has recommendations, I'd love to add to the playlist!
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 13, 2021 0:57:32 GMT
Daphne had never considered herself to be a particularly nosy individual; she left those particular inclinations to Eloise and Hyacinth. But her curiosity was truly piqued at the dissonance she found in the scene before her. There stood Benedict, claiming the quality of fine (the generality of the term could be one for a discussion at a more opportune moment) with a tone that bordered on angry and a face resemblant of a thundercloud. Clearly he was lying.
She was not stupid. She knew that her three elder brothers were men grown, entitled to lives with discretion and a certain amount of separation from her own. She knew there were things they chose to keep from her, and she from them. After all, she did not inform them of all words that passed between her and Simon. Still, there was no cause for rudeness in the face of polite and concerned inquiry.
“Pardon me for worrying about your health! Far be it from me to think that you might be anything other than… fine.”
Perhaps if he lowered that dratted pillow and stood straight to face her, his words would have less effect. But his language, both bodily and verbal, evoked such a response that she could barely believe her own rudeness. After all, he had been right in one thing: she was an intruder into his sanctum, and proper decorum warranted a warning knock. She opened her mouth to apologize, then stopped. If he was going to put on an air of frustration, she would match him tit for tat.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 12, 2021 4:58:08 GMT
Madame Delacroix had never given Daphne cause to doubt her trust, but still it felt good to hear the woman aver that her faith was not misplaced. Too often Daphne had felt the fool for her innocence. She alighted onto the platform, taking care to step over her hems lest she trip. Though her body had only recently begun to change its shape, she still felt slightly ungainly, as though her balance had shifted and she had not yet regained it. Truly, carrying one’s first child was a most enlightening experience, and she only hoped that the lessons she learned would stick and be carried forward when she did this again. If Simon and fate were amenable, of course.
“I did rather hope to purchase several dresses to accommodate the current and future gaps in my wardrobe.” She said, turning her head sidelong to address the modiste. “Along with a few items of a more… intimate nature.” She blushed as she spoke the words aloud.
She should well have been over her discomfort at such subjects, given her current situation but, alas, she was her mother’s daughter. She suspected that the woman who so brusquely and professionally spoke to her had heard such things time and time again. But she was not a confidante, not in any way that would allow Daphne to feel comfortable divulging private details. Details far more scandalous than those pertaining to the existence of a very much wanted pregnancy.
“I should be so very grateful for your assistance.” Curse her own silliness for not thinking of a more easily removed gown. She had at least a couple that would have sufficed, their ties reachable by her own hands.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 12, 2021 3:31:29 GMT
Damn Simon. Damn that man and everything he did to her. Over and over again he had told her he intended to live his life in perpetual bachelordom. And yet, once more he had led her to a fantasy-land, blooming into life like the white rose he had placed in her hand. Perhaps it was her fault. After all, she had asked him about the qualities that made a good pairing, had dared him to go beyond the proprieties of a true suitor and speak his mind.
His words. Oh how they had affected her. She had spent the day feeling them swirl in her mind, begging to be released into the light of day. Or the dark of night, as it were. Something had uncurled inside her as she listened, warming her until she felt aflame. It was any wonder he had not spotted the heat in her cheeks. Now, she felt restless, unable to distract herself with a book or the usually welcome blackness of sleep. So she wandered.
Her feet carried her through the silent halls of their own accord. If she had been asked the route she followed, no answer would have come, so wrapped up was she in the wondering and questions provoked by her handsome rake. No, not hers. But a handsome rake nonetheless. In the distance, she heard a muffled noise and looked around, seeing where she was for the first time. It had not been space that separated her from the cry, but a door. Benedict’s door. Somehow, he was in pain, and she would tend to him and his ailment. It was her way.
She turned the knob and pushed. Later, she would wonder why the thought of knocking had forsaken her. And then she would blame it on the muddle that had earlier overtaken her. Now, her mind was blank. For what she saw was a rather rumpled Benedict, looking very much the picture of health.
“Daphne! What are you doing in here?”
She stared at him for a moment, before her brain recognized the interrogative. Whyever was he grabbing a pillow? And where had that sound come from? Surely he could not have been asleep to be so quick in his response to her entrance.
“I heard a noise, brother, and sought to reassure myself that all was well with you.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, her own question hanging tucked within her words. He would need to explain himself.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 7, 2021 3:31:11 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 7, 2021 3:12:55 GMT
Strangling Benedict would be quite an enjoyable experience, she rather believed. It was not often that she considered inflicting bodily harm on another individual, let alone a member of her own family, but dear Lord the man was bringing her to it. Encouraging Hyacinth to specifically direct any questions the young girl might have to Daphne, whatever could he have been thinking? Now there would be no good way for Daphne to dodge a perfectly horrid conversation that Hyacinth had no right to be a part of. The girl was nowhere near the age at which she should even be thinking about such things!
Murmuring her thanks, she accepted her cup of tea from the sister in question, steeling herself against a shocked reaction should the action be followed by an interrogative. Mercifully, it appeared as though Hyacinth had also been vexed by Benedict and had set her sights on ascertaining something or other from him. In her afternoon laze, she had ignored most of the goings-on around her, preferring to settle for the written word or the backs of her eyelids for focus. Benedict was hiding something? Now she truly was awake.
“Benedict, whatever is Hyacinth talking about? Are you keeping secrets from us?” If he was going to tease her, she could tease him right back. If there was one thing a person learned in their family, it was that one had to give as much and as well as one got in order to survive. She took a long sip; the tea was quite good.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 7, 2021 2:58:04 GMT
A gusty sigh of relief flew from Daphne’s lips. The modiste would see her problems solved in a most efficient manner indeed. “Thank you, Madame Delacroix. As you might imagine, this must be kept completely private. The Duke and I will be making an announcement in due time, but we especially do not intend to make it in this manner.” She stopped to think, then added, “It is not that I believe your confidences to be compromised, but only that I seek to stress the delicacy of this task yet again.”Standing, she put one hand to the small of her back, the other brushing her skirts lightly to remove any wrinkles or creases that might have formed during their brief moments of conversation. Now that she no longer had to conceal anything, it felt oh so good to relieve some of the pressure that had built up in her body.“I am afraid that I sent my maid away on another errand. Should you require me to disrobe to my corset for your measurements, I shall take a longer than normal period of time."She glanced over at the arrangement of fabrics hanging neatly on display racks. The Hastings colors were red and silver, with her husband always favoring the former over the latter. She had never owned a purely red dress, the Bridgerton family choosing to favor its color of blue or idyllic pastels over bolder choices. This situation had given her the opportunity to make additions to her palette. Perhaps she would do so. Perhaps Madame Delacroix would also assist her by making several new nightdresses as well. One could do a great many things with a little imagination.
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Apr 21, 2023 16:04:32 GMT
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Post by L on Apr 4, 2021 5:56:58 GMT
They had wandered for several minutes before she found it. The perfect spot. It was nestled among the roots of an old tree, overlooking a dazzling array of dark blues and vibrant purples surrounded by a green so lush, it might have been a bed of emeralds. The small hollow had even been protected from the recent rains, and she had no doubt that their dresses and shoes would remain dry and free from mud. Mama would be most displeased if she came back caked as she had during her childhood frolics. And Simon would be displeased if he thought for even a moment that she risked a chill.
"Here, sister. This appears to be quite pleasant."
Without waiting for Eloise, Daphne gently deposited their basket and sat, sighing softly as her body relaxed into its new position. Her ankles and feet had not begun to swell, as her mother had suggested they might, but these days everything fit just a touch too snugly. It was a relief for her to have a few moments to breathe. Not that this position was significantly improved, but even the slightest of changes made a world of difference.
"I am quite well sister. And, for once, I find myself in total agreement: it has been far too long. What with your entrance into the ton and my duties to Hastings." She smiled, "We are quite the pair are we not? Who would have imagined us grown up from all those years ago in the nursery, playing and braiding hair and listening to the lessons drone on?" Someday soon, she would be watching her own child share in those same experiences. In her heightened emotional state -- again, Mama had assured her and Simon that this was perfectly natural and would occur every time she was pregnant -- the image brought tears to her eyes. She blinked to clear them, hoping Eloise would not see. A though struck her, as thoughts often did.
"Would you like me to braid your hair as I used to, sister?"
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