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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 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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lennie.
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 25, 2021 6:16:21 GMT
Merely a fortnight ago Genevieve would have laughed at the preposterous idea of a man such as him standing in the studio flat above her shop. Not only because the idea of any man inside of a modiste's boutique was unusual, it was not their place, nor did most men care about where their wives and other women in their lives got their dresses from. What surprised her was how simple it was to bring Benedict into her home; it did not feel wrong, and though maybe that was a warning in and of itself. Keeping a smile off her lips in his presence had proven difficult and it remained light and playful on her lips, "I believe perhaps I can," she hummed, parroting his words in a manner of speaking as she set down her glass.
Her eyes fluttered shut at the light carress of his fingers, body moving with the guidance of his touch. It was so much easier than it should be to get lost i him. Genevieve let her own fingers fall to the buttons of his jacket, undoing them nimbly and as her actions exposed the waistcoat beneath it she wasted no time in undoing its buttons as well. She grabbed his glass, setting it down beside her own before slipping her hands up his torso, palms softly moving beneath the unbuttoned jacket Genevieve slid it off. Turning away from him she took care in hanging it over one of her chairs around the small table, his waistcoat followed quickly and Genevieve returned the brandy glass to his hand.
Taking a small step back she tilted her head to the side as she observed him, seeming to inspect his countenance with a playful smirk on her lips, "better," Genevieve teased, even as she untied his cravat letting it remain hanging loosely around his neck. Picking up her glass once more the brunette took a long sip of brandy, her free hand not resting idly but instead cupping his jaw, pulling him down for a soft kiss. He tasted like brandy, or perhaps it was her who did, it didn't really matter, no matter who it was it remained equally addictive. She enjoyed the slow manner of their kiss, her hand continuing to move, from his jaw to his neck, around the curve of his shoulder and her fingers pressed harder into his back for a moment before moving to tangle into his thick hair.
"And how is that process of familiarization coming along, Bridgerton? I may be inclined to believe any proper familiarization can not be done simply by observation," she picked up on his previous words with a playfully teasing remark, fingers brushing through his hair as she spoke. She made no other indications of move, instead continuing to sip on her brandy, the slightly challenging element of her words lingering in the air between them. |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 23:03:08 GMT
She had not expected the flowers, and reached to accept them from him with a surprised hum, "thank you, they're lovely," she stepped aside to allow him inside, locking the door behind him. Leaning her back against the door Genevieve looked down to observe the flowers properly, smiling at the delicate blooms. The gesture was a clear sign of his upbringing; a gentleman did not show up to a woman's home empty handed, on the other hand a gentleman did not show up to a woman's home after appropriate hours unchaperoned either.
Tearing her attention from the flowers in her arms Genevieve's hand found his, silently guiding him through the little shop and up the stairs in the back. She stopped on the stairs, turning to face him where he stood a few steps beneath her, suddenly not a head taller than herself and she leaned forward. Genevieve stole a quick kiss, releasing his hand as she did so, and just as quick as her lips had brushed over his she had turned around once more, slipping up the stairs without looking behind her to see if he followed, leaving the door to the flat open after she entered.
Her flat wasn't large, it was perfectly comfortable for the modiste however. From the small kitchenette to the little seating area and her bed, it was simple but it was enough. It was home. Finding a vase she set the flowers down on the small table covered in rough ideas for gowns and fabric samples. In fact, all over the flat you could find evidence of her work, passion projects and the result of ideas coming to mind in the middle of the night.
"A drink?" she asked, already fetching glasses and a decanter of brandy she kept around, it was decent enough, a gift from a friend, though Genevieve had not inquired how they in turn had got their hands on it in the first place. Pouring two glasses she offered him one before taking a few sips from her own glass. With a soft hum Genevieve set her glass down, the smile which seemed etched on her features growing playful as her fingers danced over the buttons of his jacket, "do you recall our lessons on dress codes, Mr Bridgerton?" |
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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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lennie.
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 20:31:47 GMT
Thus far her every interaction with Benedict Bridgerton had been unplanned. She had not in her wildest dreams considered the idea of a Bridgerton receiving an invitation to one of Henry's parties (much less accept had they been invited). But Benedict quite obviously had accepted and attended but when she acknowledged his presence it was not with the intention to get involved with the man. Genevieve would admit her opinions of the man before making his acquaintance had been poisoned by her views of his brother, her not so high opinions of Anthony Bridgerton making her less inclined to be impressed by Benedict as well.
The second time had been just as unplanned, in all honesty Genevieve had not been sure if they had managed to scare him off. She had once again been pleasantly surprised to find him prove her wrong. Conversation was easy between them and yet they never discussed how they created a habit of seeking one another out. It was never planned, but in a way it was, while there was no inquiries made to see if the other would be at the next secret soirée Genevieve would find herself looking around for him only to see his gaze travel over the room until he found her.
But this was so very different from those first few times of finding enjoyment and pleasure in one another. It felt they were crossing a line of sorts in their unspoken agreement with this; this time he was invited, this time it was planned. Genevieve had ushered her final client of the day out the door with a warm smile and plenty of praise of what a lovely sight they would be at their next social event.
She knew not to expect him before sunset, both of them wishing to keep what was between them to themselves, though she was sure their reasons for that varied as well, and Genevieve had the chance to take her time to get ready. When it knocked on her door she opened it to greet him with a smile, "Mr Bridgerton." |
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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 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 lennie3 on Mar 24, 2021 15:20:45 GMT
It was frightening, how much longer Genevieve knew she could have remained in his arms, leaning back against the wall and exchanging slow kisses between soft spoken words. Perhaps her own fear played into how suddenly she had slipped out of his embrace, the will to stay right where she had been too strong for her to allow it. It was comfortable and as of now she was not sure if she was ready for it to get to that point.
Despite the distance now between them it didn't mean she had to stop watching him however. With a coy smile playing on her lips Genevieve observed as he cleaned himself off, covering himself with his breeches. Her gaze was slow and steady as it moved over him.
He surprised her as his hands covered her own, and Genevieve nodded. She could only imagine how he knew how to lace up a corset, lots of men had sisters, wives and mothers, very few of them probably took the time to learn. Shaking her head she laughed, "do not worry about me, Bridgerton, I'm more than fine," she insisted, leaning in ever so slightly to his touch as he continued lacing up her corset, "thank you," Genevieve smiled, lips parting open to let a small moan free as his fingers brushed over her skin. The temptation to lean into him was strong, his presence overwhelming her senses even now. He was slow on purpose she noted, every pull strategically allowing him to brush over her skin and she fought the temptation to sink into him, to drop her head to his shoulder.
The kisses along her neck were the final straw; turning around she was back in his arms, hands on his chest to steady herself. "You're quite incorrigble," the brunette hummed not quite scolding him, voice filled with mirth. Despite the height her shoes now provided her with he was still much taller than her and Genevieve had to tilt her head back ever so slightly to meet his gaze. Genevieve offered a polite nod, "Bridgerton," she brushed her lips over his, "enjoy the rest of the evening." |
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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 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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Post by lennie3 on Mar 23, 2021 5:53:27 GMT
Genevieve had never seen much purpose in denying herself what she wanted, nor had she allowed much to get in the way of it. She had managed her way through society with meticulous intent to get to where she was, she had worked hard and she was comfortable. Perhaps it was that comfort which made her willing to risk some of it to spend more time with him, she felt secure not because Benedict offered her his continued attentions but rather because she was already content without his affections.
She didn't see panic in his eyes as he reflected upon the meaning of her words. What she did saw was a man trying to comprehend the meaning of them, trying to fit together words with the reality they lived in as if they were parts of the same puzzle. Genevieve was not sure it was possible to take whatever this was between them consisting of soft looks and gentle touches anywhere else, did not know if it would ever feel the same outside of the protective roof of the party. His gaze was kind and so very different from other men's, holding a vulnerability which Genevieve could not have denied she was not drawn to. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a good man, a man who was quite known for caring deeply for his family, and still a man who had not before allowed himself the opportunity to explore his own needs outside of the expectations placed upon him.
Yet she smiled at his confession, his agreement that he too wanted what she had offered him. Genevieve turned her head, capturing his lips in a slow kiss before whispering against him, "and it pleases me to hear you would like such a thing."
"I do believe somewhere with proper furniture could prove beneficial," she agreed with him, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. Genevieve let a laugh slip, her gaze following him as he looked around the room, his features taking on a near boyish charm as he excused himself sheepishly. "And yet you must know I do not mind you didn't," she mused, caressing his jaw softly, it was the truth, even though Genevieve could not say honestly whether or not her back would feel the same way in the morning. "I do believe you would not be entirely at fault for placing some blame on me, I didn't take into consideration much more than finding an empty room," she admitted, fair was fair after all, and she enjoyed this rapport they had built, of saying what was on their minds whether it was hidden behind words with double meanings or not. For now it felt as if they had left those double meanings behind, both of them speaking openly about the future.
For now it had to remain the future. As wonderful as the idea in her mind of spending hours basking in the afterglow of their activities on comfortable sheets sounded, there were no comfortable sheets. She reached up, kissing his lips softly before she drew back, reluctantly slipping out of his embrace. They could not stay like this forever. Genevieve found her breeches where she had discarded them on the floor a few steps away, pulling them over her hips before tying them in place. She stepped into her shoes, enjoying the added height they provided her with as she dropped a kiss to his shoulder, "dress, Bridgerton," she urged him, "there's still a party out there for you to enjoy, brandy to consume, conversations to be had." While she spoke Genevieve had begun lacing up her corset, hands pulling at the strings in the back as she adjusted it to her frame. |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 22, 2021 22:24:13 GMT
Over the years Genevieve had considered herself many tings, but before now she never counted hypocrite as one of them. But she was the one who warned Siena against her dalliance with Anthony Bridgerton, who told her young friend to stay away from the man, to secure her future some place safer. Now it was her engaging in a dangerous game with Benedict Bridgerton, a game which she dared not imagine how it would end. She had not expected the attraction between them when they first met, and tonight when she saw him again Genevieve had been surprised it remained. But now, when they had both sated their needs, the electric feeling between them remained strong. So now she was a hypocrite, because Genevieve had no intention of keeping Benedict from her bed as long as he wished for a place in it.
"It would be terribly cruel," Genevieve agreed, kissing him, "to deny outselves such possibility for pleasure," she concluded. The worst part was she believed every word of it. Genevieve knew she was not an honest person, she kept more secrets than the ton would dare to dream of their favourite modiste. Adding a dalliance with the second Bridgerton son to the list would not make much of a difference, not for her. But despite her skill for deception she found she meant every word she told him.
Genevieve allowed her head to drop to his shoulder, lips ghosting over his skin in tiny butterfly kisses. She let her lips linger at the point where his neck connected to his shoulder, dragging her thumb over the spot she had just kissed as she pulled back, "I do believe, it truly would be a waste to not seize any opportunity shall it arise on a night like this," she paused, letting the meaning of her words hang in the air before continuing, "or at another time or place indeed." It was bold. Quite possibly too bold, it was as close as an invitation to find her when he pleased as she could come to without saying it out loud. Despite the recklessness Genevieve did not regret her words. She wanted him to know, she realised, that she still desired him, still yearned for him. |
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 22, 2021 21:02:37 GMT
This was the trickery of what occurred between those who attended these parties. It was a night where titles and responsibilities were stripped away, men and women were just that, and they were free to do almost anything their hearts desired. Genevieve would not have gone as far as to claim her heart desired Benedict Bridgerton, however denying her desire for him would've been a rather obvious lie. Everything about him was a dangerous path to thread down and yet she had made no efforts to keep herself off the path, instead falling into step with him as he smiled and charmed her. In the sanctity of this room however she could stand in his arms and kiss him, she could kiss him and he was not a Bridgerton.
Genevieve smiled, it was far too easy to smile in his presence she noted, far too difficult to remain reasonable. To act with reason would have been to duck out of his embrace, try to smooth down her hair and lace up her corset once more. Instead she was making no attempts to move, smiling and laughing with him as they lavish one another with compliments which were only thinly veiled as not directed as the other. One would have needed to be a fool not to understand their words were meant for the other as they remained close, voices soft yet filled with desire despite their previous endeavours.
"Oh I believe it definitely could work out quite nicely," Genevieve hummed, speaking close to his lips, her own brushing against his as she spoke. Whatever it was between them it was remaining half unspoken as of now, acknowledged and still so far from defined. It was safer that way, better, it should need to stay this way. Because perhaps as much as her body reacted to his touch, how she enjoyed the feeling of him against her, she was enjoying his mind as well. Genevieve sighed softly, brushing her knuckles lightly over his cheek, "after all, denying oneself something which gives such... pleasure, seems far too cruel an action towards thyself," she hummed, dark eyes remaining trained on his as she spoke, confirming very much she was not opposed to his future company.
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Post by lennie3 on Mar 22, 2021 19:14:03 GMT
Even as she stood with her feet on the cold wood floor she remained backed against the wall in his arms without any complaints to be had. Had she been a few years younger, a fair bit more innocent, and not as knowledgable Genevieve was sure his words could've caused her to melt. Surely he had to be aware that the charm he possessed could tempt even the most determined of debutantes to give up that chaste innocence they were taught to so ardently protect. But Genevieve simply smiled, not taking her eyes off him as a soft smile formed on his own lips.
She laughed, "oh I think it is rather clear you do in fact please me," she murmured, hands on his chest for leverage as she pushed herself up to catch his lips in a slow kiss, languidly moving her lips over his, letting her tongue explore him. She found she had no rush to get away from him, no need to brush him off and redress, to rejoin the party still taking place outside of the door. For now, she was rather content to remain in his embrace. It was only for a moment after all, and there was no risk in living in the moment for just a little while longer.
"I believe those present would be inclined to admit they are not opposed to being the reason for your continued entrancement," Genevieve hummed, playful spark in her eyes lit once again, and she skimmed her fingertips over his skin; it wasn't quite the exploration her body and mind yearned for, but it'd do, for now. Their words could've referred to anyone else and yet it was so clear neither spoke of anyone else in attendance; from his tone of voice to the way she looked in his eyes as she spoke, someone would've needed to be a complete fool to miss how their words were only for one another. |
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