Chapter 8 2 страница

This most recent edition was typical Whistledown. Aside from the short piece on the Bridgertons—which was really no
more than a description of the family— Lady Whistledown had recounted the events at the previous night's ball. Daphne hadn't attended, as it had been her younger sister's birthday, and the Bridgertons always made a big fuss about birthdays. And with eight children, there were a lot of birthdays to celebrate .

"You're reading that rubbish," Violet accused.

Daphne looked up, refusing to feel the least bit guilty. "It's a rather good column today. Apparently Cecil Tumbley knocked over an entire tower of champagne glasses last night. "

"Really?" Violet asked, trying not to look interested.

"Mmm-hmm," Daphne replied. "She gives quite a good account of the Middlethorpe ball. Mentions who was talking to
whom, what everyone was wearing—"

"And I suppose she felt the need to offer her opinions on that point," Violet cut in.

Daphne smiled wickedly. "Oh, come now, Mother. You know that Mrs. Featherington has always looked dreadful in purple."

Violet tried not to smile. Daphne could see the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to maintain the composure she deemed appropriate for a viscountess and mother. But within two seconds, she was grinning and sitting next to her daughter on the sofa. "Let me see that," she said, snatching up the paper. "What else happened? Did we miss anything important? "

Daphne said, "Really, Mother, with Lady Whistledown as a reporter, one needn't actually attend any events." She waved toward the paper. "This is almost as good as actually being there. Better, probably. I'm certain we had better food last night than they did at the ball. And give that back." She yanked the paper back, leaving a torn corner in Violet's hands.

"Daphne!"

Daphne affected mock righteousness. "I was reading it."

"Well! "

"Listen to this." Violet leaned in. Daphne read: ""The rake formerly known as Earl Clyvedon has finally seen fit to grace London with his presence. Although he has not yet deigned to make an appearance at a respectable evening function, the new Duke of Hastings has been spotted several times at White's and once at Tattersall's.' " She paused to take a breath. "'His grace has resided abroad for six years. Can it be any coincidence that he has returned only now that the old duke is dead?'"

Daphne looked up. "My goodness, she is blunt, isn't she? Isn't Clyvedon one of Anthony's friends?"

"He's Hastings now," Violet said automatically, "and yes, I do believe he and Anthony were friendly at Oxford. And Eton as well, I think." Her brow scrunched and her blue eyes narrowed with thought. "He was something of a hellion, if my memory serves. Always at odds with his father. But reputed to be quite brilliant. I'm fairly sure that Anthony said he took a first in mathematics. Which," she added with a maternal roll of her eyes, "is more than I can say for any of my children. "

"Now, now, Mother," Daphne teased. "I'm sure I would take a first if Oxford would only see fit to admit women."

Violet snorted. "I corrected your arithmetic papers when your governess was ill, Daphne."

"Well, maybe in history, then," Daphne said with a grin. She looked back down at the paper in her hands, her eyes straying to the new duke's name. "He sounds quite interesting," she murmured.

Violet looked at her sharply. "He's quite unsuitable for a young lady of your years is what he is."

"Funny how my 'years,' as you put it, volley back and forth between being so young that I cannot even meet Anthony's
friends and being so old that you despair of my ever contracting a good marriage."

" Daphne Bridgerton, I don't— "

" —like my tone, I know." Daphne grinned. "But you love me ."

Violet smiled warmly and wrapped an arm around Daphne's shoulder. "Heaven help me, I do. "

Daphne gave her mother a quick peck on the cheek. "It's the curse of motherhood. You're required to love us even when we vex you. "

Violet just sighed. "I hope that someday you have children—"

"—just like me, I know." Daphne smiled nostalgically and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. Her mother could be overly inquisitive, and her father had been more interested in hounds and hunting than he'd been in society affairs, but theirs had been a warm marriage, filled with love, laughter, and children. "I could do a great deal worse than follow your example, Mother," she murmured.

"Why, Daphne," Violet said, her eyes growing watery, "what a lovely thing to say. "

Daphne twirled a lock of her chestnut hair around her finger, and grinned, letting the sentimental moment melt into a more teasing one. "I'm happy to follow in your footsteps when it comes to marriage and children, Mother, just so long as I don't have to have eight. "

* * *

At that exact moment, Simon Basset, the new Duke of Hastings and the erstwhile topic of the Bridgerton ladies' conversation, was sitting at White's. His companion was none other than Anthony Bridgerton, Daphne's eldest brother. The two cut a striking pair, both tall and athletic, with thick dark hair. But where Anthony's eyes were the same deep chocolate brown as his sister's, Simon's were icy blue, with an oddly penetrating gaze.

It was those eyes as much as anything that had earned him his reputation as a man to be reckoned with. When he stared at a person, clear and unwavering, men grew uncomfortable. Women positively shivered.

But not Anthony. The two men had known each other for years, and Anthony just laughed when Simon raised a brow and turned his icy gaze upon him. "You forget, I've seen you with your head being lowered into a chamber pot," Anthony had once told him. "It's been difficult to take you seriously ever since. "

To which Simon had replied, "Yes, but if I recall, you were the one holding me over that fragrant receptacle ."

"One of my proudest moments, to be sure. But you had your revenge the next night in the form of a dozen eels in my bed. "

Simon allowed himself a smile as he remembered both the incident and their subsequent conversation about it. Anthony was a good friend, just the sort a man would want by his side in a pinch. He'd been the first person Simon had looked up upon returning to England.

"It's damned fine to have you back, Clyvedon," Anthony said, once they'd settled in at their table at White's. "Oh, but I
suppose you'll insist I call you Hastings now. "

"No," Simon said rather emphatically. "Hastings will always be my father. He never answered to anything else." He paused. "I'll assume his title if I must, but I won't be called by his name. "

"If you must?" Anthony's eyes widened slightly. "Most men would not sound quite so resigned about the prospect of a dukedom. "

Simon raked a hand through his dark hair. He knew he was supposed to cherish his birthright and display unwavering pride in the Basset family's illustrious history, but the truth was it all made him sick inside. He'd spent his entire life not living up to his father's expectations; it seemed ridiculous now to try to live up to his name. "It's a damned burden is what it is," he finally grumbled.

"You'd best get used to it," Anthony said pragmatically, "because that's what everyone will call you. "

Simon knew it was true, but he doubted if the title would ever sit well upon his shoulders.

"Well, whatever the case," Anthony added, respecting his friend's privacy by not delving further into what was obviously an uncomfortable topic, "I'm glad to have you back. I might finally get some peace next time I escort my sister to a ball. "

Simon leaned back, crossing his long, muscular legs at the ankles. "An intriguing remark. "

Anthony raised a brow. "One that you're certain I'll explain? "

"But of course. "

"I ought to let you learn for yourself, but then, I've never been a cruel man. "

Simon chuckled. "This coming from the man who dunked my head in a chamber pot? "

Anthony waved his hand dismissively. "I was young. "

"And now you're a model of mature decorum and respectability? "

Anthony grinned. "Absolutely. "

"So tell me," Simon drawled, "how, exactly, am I meant to make your existence that much more peaceful? "

"I assume you plan to take your place in society? "

"You assume incorrectly. "

"But you are planning to attend Lady Danbury's ball this week," Anthony said.

"Only because I am inexplicably fond of the old woman. She says what she means, and—" Simon's eyes grew somewhat shuttered.

"And?" Anthony prompted.

Simon gave his head a little shake. "It's nothing. Just that she was rather kind to me as a child. I spent a few school holidays at her house with Riverdale. Her nephew, you know ."

Anthony nodded once. "I see. So you have no intention of entering society. I'm impressed by your resolve. But allow me to warn you—even if you do not choose to attend the ton's events, they will find you. "

Simon, who had chosen that moment to take a sip of his brandy, choked on the spirit at the look on Anthony's face when he said, "they." After a few moments of coughing and sputtering, he finally managed to say, "Who, pray tell', are 'they'? "

Anthony shuddered. "Mothers. "

"Not having had one myself, I can't say I grasp your point. "

"Society mothers, you dolt. Those fire-breathing dragons with daughters of—God help us—marriageable age. You can run, but you'll never manage to hide from them. And I should warn you, my own is the worst of the lot. "

"Good God. And here I thought Africa was dangerous ."

Anthony shot his friend a faintly pitying look. "They will hunt you down. And when they find you, you will find yourself trapped in conversation with a pale young lady all dressed in white who cannot converse on topics other than the weather, who received vouchers to Almack's, and hair ribbons. "

A look of amusement crossed Simon's features. "I take it, then, that during my time abroad you have become something of an eligible gentleman? "

"Not out of any aspirations to the role on my part, I assure you. If it were up to me, I'd avoid society functions like the plague. But my sister made her bow last year, and I'm forced to escort her from time to time. "

" Daphne, you mean? "

Anthony looked up in surprise. "Did the two of you ever meet? "

"No," Simon admitted, "but I remember her letters to you at school, and I recalled that she was fourth in the family, so she had to start with D, and— "

"Ah, yes," Anthony said with a slight roll of his eyes, "the Bridgerton method of naming children. Guaranteed to make certain no one forgets who you are. "

Simon laughed. "It worked, didn't it? "

"Say, Simon," Anthony suddenly said, leaning forward, "I've promised my mother I'll have dinner at Bridgerton House later this week with the family. Why don't you join me? "

Simon raised a dark brow. "Didn't you just warn me about society mothers and debutante daughters? "

Anthony laughed. "I'll put my mother on her best behavior, and don't worry about Daff. She's the exception that proves the rule. You'll like her immensely. "

Simon narrowed his eyes. Was Anthony playing matchmaker? He couldn't tell.

As if Anthony were reading his thoughts, he laughed. "Good God, you don't think I'm trying to pair you off with Daphne, do you? "

Simon said nothing.

"You would never suit. You're a bit too brooding for her tastes. "

Simon thought that an odd comment, but instead chose to ask, "Has she had any offers, then? "

"A few." Anthony kicked back the rest of his brandy, then let out a satisfied exhale. "I've allowed her to refuse them all. "

"That's rather indulgent of you ."

Anthony shrugged. "Love is probably too much to hope for in a marriage these days, but I don't see why she shouldn't be happy with her husband. We've had offers from one man old enough to be her father, another old enough to be her father's younger brother, one who was rather too high in the instep for our often boisterous clan, and then this week, dear God, that was the worst! "

"What happened?" Simon asked curiously.

Anthony gave his temples a weary rub. "This last one was perfectly amiable, but a rather bit dim in the head. You'd think, after our rakish days, I'd be completely without feelings— "

"Really?" Simon asked with a devilish grin. "You'd think that? "

Anthony scowled at him. "I didn't particularly enjoy breaking this poor fool's heart. "

"Er, wasn't Daphne the one to do that? "

"Yes, but I had to tell him. "

"Not many brothers would allow their sister such latitude with their marriage proposals," Simon said quietly.

Anthony just shrugged again, as if he couldn't imagine treating his sister in any other way. "She's been a good sister to me. It's the least I can do. "

"Even if it means escorting her to Almack's?" Simon said wickedly.

Anthony groaned. "Even then ."

"I'd console you by pointing out that this will all be over soon, but you've what, three other sisters waiting in the wings? "

Anthony positively slumped in his seat. "Eloise is due out in two years, and Francesca the year after that, but then I've a bit of a reprieve before Hyacinth comes of age. "

Simon chuckled. "I don't envy you your responsibilities in that quarter." But even as he said the words, he felt a strange
longing, and he wondered what it would be like to be not quite so alone in this world. He had no plans to start a family of his own, but maybe if he'd had one to begin with, his life would have turned out a bit differently .

"So you'll come for supper, then?" Anthony stood. "Informal, of course. We never take meals formally when it's just family. "

Simon had a dozen things to do in the next few days, but before he could remind himself that he needed to get his affairs in order, he heard himself saying, "I'd be delighted. "

"Excellent. And I'll see you at the Danbury bash first? "

Simon shuddered. "Not if I can help it. My aim is to be in and out in under thirty minutes. "

"You really think," Anthony said, raising a doubtful brow, "that you're going to be able to go to the party, pay your respects to Lady Danbury, and leave? "

Simon's nod was forceful and direct.

But Anthony's snort of laughter was not terribly reassuring.

Chapter 2

The new Duke of Hastings is a most interesting character. While it is common knowledge that he was not on favorable terms with his father, even This Author is unable to learn the reason for the estrangement.

Lady Whistledown's Society Papers , 26 April 1813

Later that week, Daphne found herself standing on the fringes of Lady Danbury's ballroom, far away from the fashionable crowd. She was quite content with her position.

Normally she would have enjoyed the festivities; she liked a good party as well as the next young lady, but earlier that
evening, Anthony had informed her that Nigel Berbrooke had sought him out two days earlier and asked for her hand.
Again. Anthony had, of course, refused (again!), but Daphne had the sinking feeling that Nigel was going to prove uncomfortably persistent. After all, two marriage proposals in two weeks did not paint a picture of a man who accepted
defeat easily .

Across the ballroom she could see him looking this way and that, and she shrank further into the shadows.

She had no idea how to deal with the poor man. He wasn't very bright, but he also wasn't unkind, and though she knew she had to somehow put an end to his infatuation, she was finding it far easier to take the coward's way out and simply avoid him.

She was considering slinking into the ladies' retiring room when a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

"I say, Daphne, what are you doing all the way over here? "

Daphne looked up to see her eldest brother making his way toward her. "Anthony," she said, trying to decide if she was pleased to see him or annoyed that he might be coming over to meddle in her affairs. "I hadn't realized you would be in attendance. "

"Mother," he said grimly. No other words were necessary.

"Ah," Daphne said with a sympathetic nod. "Say no more. I understand completely. "

"She made a list of potential brides." He shot his sister a beleaguered look. "We do love her, don't we? "

Daphne choked on a laugh. "Yes, Anthony, we do ."

"It's temporary insanity," he grumbled. "It has to be. There is no other explanation. She was a perfectly reasonable mother until you reached marriageable age. "

"Me?" Daphne squeaked. "Then this is all my fault? You're a full eight years older than I am!"

"Yes, but she wasn't gripped by this matrimonial fervor until you came along. "

Daphne snorted. "Forgive me if I lack sympathy. I received a list last year. "

"Did you? "

"Of course. And lately she's been threatening to deliver them to me on a weekly basis. She badgers me on the issue of
marriage far more than you could ever imagine. After all, bachelors are a challenge. Spinsters are merely pathetic. And in case you hadn't noticed, I'm female. "

Anthony let out a low chuckle. "I'm your brother. I don't notice those things." He gave her a sly, sideways look. "Did you bring it? "

" My list? Heavens, no. What can you be thinking? "

His smile widened. "I brought mine. "

Daphne gasped. "You didn't! "

"I did. Just to torture Mother. I'm going peruse it right in front of her, pull out my quizzing glass— "

" You don't have a quizzing glass. "

He grinned—the slow, devastatingly wicked smile that all Bridgerton males seemed to possess. "I bought one just for this occasion ."

" Anthony, you absolutely cannot. She will kill you. And then, somehow, she'll find a way to blame me. "

" I'm counting on it. "

Daphne swatted him in the shoulder, eliciting a loud enough grunt to cause a half dozen partygoers to send curious looks in their direction.

"A solid punch," Anthony said, rubbing his arm.

"A girl can't live long with four brothers without learning how to throw one." She crossed her arms. "Let me see your list ."

" After you just assaulted me? "

Daphne rolled her brown eyes and cocked her head in a decidedly impatient gesture.

"Oh, very well." He reached into his waistcoat, pulled out a folded slip of paper, and handed it to her. "Tell me what you think. I'm sure you'll have no end of cutting remarks ."

Daphne unfolded the paper and stared down at her mother's neat, elegant handwriting. The Viscountess Bridgerton had
listed the names of eight women. Eight very eligible, very wealthy young women. "Precisely what I expected," Daphne murmured .

"Is it as dreadful as I think? "

" Worse. Philipa Featherington is as dumb as a post ."

" And the rest of them? "

Daphne looked up at him under raised brows. "You didn't really want to get married this year, anyway, did you? "

Anthony winced. "And how was your list? "

" Blessedly out-of-date, now. Three of the five married last season. Mother is still berating me for letting them slip through my fingers ."

The two Bridgertons let out identical sighs as they slumped against the wall. Violet Bridgerton was undeterred in her mission to marry off her children. Anthony, her eldest son, and Daphne, her eldest daughter, had borne the brunt of the pressure, although Daphne suspected that the viscountess might have cheerfully married off ten-year-old Hyacinth if she'd received a suitable offer.

" Good God, you look a pair of sad sorts. What are you doing so far off in the corner? "

Another instantly recognizable voice. "Benedict," Daphne said, glancing sideways at him without moving her head. "Don't tell me Mother managed to get you to attend tonight's festivities ."

He nodded grimly. "She has completely bypassed cajoling and moved on to guilt. Three times this week she has reminded me I may have to provide the next viscount, if Anthony here doesn't get busy. "

Anthony groaned.

"I assume that explains your flight as well to the darkest corners of the ballroom?" Benedict continued. "Avoiding Mother? "

"Actually," Anthony replied, "I saw Daff skulking in the corner and— "

"Skulking?" Benedict said with mock horror.

She shot them both an irritated scowl. "I came over to hide from Nigel Berbrooke," she explained. "I left Mother in the company of Lady Jersey, so she's not likely to pester me anytime soon, but Nigel— "

"Is more monkey than man," Benedict quipped.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it that way precisely," Daphne said, trying to be kind, "but he isn't terribly bright, and it's so much easier to stay out of his way than to hurt his feelings. Of course now that you lot have found me, I shan't be able to avoid him for long. "

Anthony voiced a simple, "Oh? "

Daphne looked at her two older brothers, both an inch above six feet with broad shoulders and melting brown eyes. They each sported thick chestnut hair—much the same color as her own—and more to the point, they could not go anywhere in polite society without a small gaggle of twittering young ladies following them about.

And where a gaggle of twittering young ladies went, Nigel Berbrooke was sure to follow.

Already Daphne could see heads turning in their direction. Ambitious mamas were nudging their daughters and pointing to the two Bridgerton brothers, off by themselves with no company save for their sister.

"I knew I should have made for the retiring room," Daphne muttered.

"I say, what's that piece of paper in your hand, Daff?" Benedict inquired.

Somewhat absentmindedly, she handed him the list of Anthony's supposed brides.

At Benedict's loud chortle, Anthony crossed his arms, and said, "Try not to have too much fun at my expense. I predict
you'll be receiving a similar list next week ."

"No doubt," Benedict agreed. "It's a wonder Colin—" His eyes snapped up. "Colin! "

Yet another Bridgerton brother joined the crowd.

"Oh, Colin!" Daphne exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "It's so good to see you. "

"Note that we didn't receive similarly enthusiastic greetings," Anthony said to Benedict.

"You I see all the time," Daphne retorted. "Colin's been away a full year." After giving him one last squeeze, she stepped back, and scolded, "We didn't expect you until next week ."

Colin's one-shoulder shrug matched his lopsided smile to perfection. "Paris grew dull. "

"Ah," Daphne said with a shrewd look in her eye. "Then you ran out of money. "

Colin laughed and held up his hands in surrender. "Guilty as charged ."

Anthony hugged his brother, and said gruffly, "It's damned fine to have you home, brother. Although the funds I sent you should have lasted you at least until— "

"Stop," Colin said helplessly, laughter still tingeing his voice. "I promise you may scold me all you want tomorrow. Tonight I merely wish to enjoy the company of my beloved family. "

Benedict let out a snort. "You must be completely broke if you're calling us 'beloved.' " But he leaned forward to give his brother a hearty hug all the same. "Welcome home. "

Colin, always the most devil-may-care of the family, grinned, his green eyes twinkling. "Good to be back. Although I must say the weather is not nearly so fine as on the Continent, and as for the women, well, England would be hard pressed to compete with the signorina I— "

Daphne punched him in the arm. "Kindly recall that there is a lady present, churl." But there was little ire in her voice. Of all her siblings, Colin was the closest to her in age—only eighteen months her elder. As children, they had been inseparable—and always in trouble. Colin was a natural prankster, and Daphne had never needed much convincing to go along with his schemes. "Does Mother know you're home?" she asked.

Colin shook his head. "I arrived to an empty house, and— "

"Yes, Mother put the younger ones to bed early tonight," Daphne interrupted.

"I didn't want to wait about and twiddle my thumbs, so Humboldt gave me your direction and I came here. "

Daphne beamed, her wide smile lending warmth to her dark eyes. "I'm glad you did. "

"Where is Mother?" Colin asked, craning his neck to peer over the crowd. Like all Bridgerton males, he was tall, so he
didn't have to stretch very far.

"Over in the corner with Lady Jersey," Daphne replied.

Colin shuddered. "I'll wait until she's extricated herself. I have no wish to be flayed alive by that dragon. "

"Speaking of dragons," Benedict said pointedly. His head didn't move, but his eyes flicked off to the left.

Daphne followed his line of vision to see Lady Danbury marching slowly toward them. She carried a cane, but Daphne swallowed nervously and steeled her shoulders. Lady Danbury's often cutting wit was legendary among the ton. Daphne had always suspected that a sentimental heart beat under her acerbic exterior, but still, it was always terrifying when Lady Danbury pressed one into conversation.

"No escape," Daphne heard one of her brothers groan.

Daphne shushed him and offered the old lady a hesitant smile.

Lady Danbury's brows rose, and when she was but four feet away from the group of Bridgertons, she stopped, and barked, "Don't pretend you don't see me! "

This was followed by a thump of the cane so loud that Daphne jumped back just enough to trample Benedict's toe.

"Euf," said Benedict.

Since her brothers appeared to have gone temporarily mute (except for Benedict, of course, but Daphne didn't think that
grunts of pain counted as intelligible speech) Daphne swallowed, and said, "I hope I did not give that impression, Lady Danbury, for— "

"Not you," Lady Danbury said imperiously. She jabbed her cane into the air, making a perfectly horizontal line that ended perilously close to Colin's stomach. "Them. "

A chorus of mumbled greetings emerged as a response.

Lady Danbury flicked the men the briefest of glances before turning back to Daphne, and saying, "Mr. Berbrooke was
asking after you. "

Daphne actually felt her skin turn green. "He was? "

Lady Danbury gave her a curt nod. "I'd nip that one in the bud, were I you, Miss Bridgerton. "

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