Recent Posts

It was a strange feeling to her, calling him by his Christian name. Alas, she wanted to get used to it, to use it more often than she needed to just to relish in the moment that they were no longer unequal in society. He had made the decision to run away with her and finally, they were at the perfect time and more importantly, place. He was home to her and she could not bare spending another second without him. She would not be able to bear it.

Chuckling at his inability to light the fire, Siena approached him from behind and embraced him, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I'll do it." She reassured him, taking the flint and steel from his hands. Kneeling, she began to strike the iron with the flint and after some time, a fire was initiated and she pulled the empty pot near it. Upon rising from her position, his question caught her slightly off guard. Sure, she was used to some sort of luxury, but this would do.

"As long as I am in your presence, My Lor-" Did she not call him by Christian name only seconds ago? "Anthony," She paused, donning one of her famous grins. "I'll always be happy. Have I not told you that several times before?" Warmth radiated from the fireplace, yet the warmth that Siena truly felt existed in the small space between their figures.

Siena never thought the day ahead of them would come. As she paced around her room, she nervously bit her fingers, wondering what the outcome of Anthony's duel would be. Would he be shot dead? She could never live with that. Never. The young woman would even resort to taking her own life if she were to receive news of her lover's demise. She could not even bring herself to sleep when she rested her head on her pillow, her thoughts  continuously buzzing around her restless mind.

And so, when she heard a knock at her door, Siena already had her bags packed and ready to go. Genevieve, her  closest friend, was staying with her for the night. The brunette explained the plan to her, much to her friend's slight disapproval. Kissing the back of Gen's hands, she whispered a warm farewell and scurried to the front door. There, she found Anthony, the love of her life and without further hesitance, she jumped into his arms, ready to travel far, far way from Grosvenor Square -- presumably Scotland. 

But before they could do that, they had to find a cottage to live in. Grinning in amusement at her soon-to-be husband's words, Siena nudged him with his shoulder, "This will do perfectly, Anthony," For the first time, she'd referred to him by his first name instead of "My Lord". It certainly felt strange to her. She'd have to get used to it. "Come on, help me set up of the fire, and we can get dinner ready."

His acceptance brought a wave of relief upon her, and she instantly wiped the tears that had formed from her eyes, not wanting them to trickle down and reveal her true weakness, which was precisely Anthony Bridgerton. They'd left things off in a horrid state, her main motive being less heartbreak and a life in reality, which was far from being his wife.

"Follow me, but tread behind." As she did not desire attention from any unwanted ears and eyes that early morning. Pulling her hood further over her head, she traveled down the cobbled street until she reached the backdoor of Genevieve's shop. Opening the door, Siena glanced left and right before entering the place, waiting for Anthony to enter. Where to begin?

Upon feeling him enter, she began, "I've left him."

Siena had only just left her fiancée, deciding that it was the best decision. As much as she hated to admit it, Anthony Bridgerton was a recurrent thought, day and bloody night. Though she believed her nights spent at the opera house would help relieve such thoughts, they did not, and she knew that she could not remain with a man she did not love, especially with her ex lover inhabiting her mind rent free.

Seeing him here and now filled with her with absolute dread, barely knowing what to say as her full lips parted ways for a moment. All the colour from her face had washed away as she remained frozen, staring deeply into the brown eyes that once filled her with hope and desire. ”My Lord…” Siena managed, feeling fresh tears sting her eyes. Oh, why was she crying? She needed to be stronger.

”Can we talk?” She suddenly asked, hoping for a positive reply.

Siena was at one of Henry's Granville's many lavish parties. Standing beside one of the vacant easels, she peered at the canvas that was ready to be drawn upon. There was something missing, however, and that was a model. Whilst others stood outside, she remained in the room alone, admiring the venue of the fête.

There was already liquor running through her veins by the time she'd entered the place. She'd knocked back half a bottle of wine in her home as she put on her makeup on. It was her preferred way of getting dressed for events like these. Feeling a presence in the room, the slightly tipsy opera singer turned around, meeting eyes with none other than Lord Granville himself.

Bearing a small smile, Siena offered him a slight curtsy.