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PROMENADES & PROMISES

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THE SUN WAS BEATING DOWN HARD on the two women as they began their walk through Hyde Park. The amount of couples that surrounded them was almost nauseating, although Marjorie couldn't fault her sister for bolting straight toward Colin Bridgerton as soon as the family came into view. Augusta was absolutely infatuated with the man, and he would make a good match. Something their mother had been unable to stop talking about to everyone she was friends with in London.

Augusta's potential match consumed her, and it didn't help that Marjorie had been seen with a Bridgerton as well, it only increased her mother's crazy behavior. Now instead of discussing one match, she was discussing three.

Oh yes, James hadn't gone unnoticed either, although no one truly knew who he wished to court. He'd been mainly seen dancing with Daphne, but with her new relationship with the Duke, who knew who'd he pursue next?

Marjorie scoffed and folded her arms, trying to smile at the interactions between her sister and Colin, the man making Augusta's face light up with delight every time he opened his mouth.

"Miss Baxter!" Violet Bridgerton called out, waving the blonde over to their gathering. The woman was sitting with Lady Danbury, the two of them looking every bit in each other's confidence. Surely they could not mean to invite her over?

"Good morning Lady Bridgerton," Marjorie curtsied, "Lady Danbury. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Oh come girl," Danbury chided her, making room for Marjorie on the bench, "Sit, and join us old women in our gossip." The darker skinned woman arched an eyebrow Violet's way, "It's all we're good for these days anyway."

"Oh surely, that's not true." Marjorie responded, "For who else would usher us toward such unworthy suitors?"

The two women broke into perfectly unladylike laughter, "Who indeed?" Danbury confirmed with a wry smile.

Marjorie relaxed at the gesture. Her eyes caught something in the distance, the sight of red and blue walking together, Daphne Bridgerton's arm lazily draped over Simon Basset's. "Although, I dare say you have managed to secure a perfect one for Daphne, Lady Bridgerton," The blonde smirked, still confused on how the debutante had managed to snatch up the Duke in the first place. Lady Whistledown had declared her all but ineligible that very week, and somehow she had managed to snatch up the catch of the season. "My brother shall be very disappointed indeed."

Violet shook her head, "Quite the opposite in fact," Lady Bridgerton wore a similar smile on her face to Lady Danbury beside her, "I believe Daphne's engagement to the Duke has only made Mr Baxter's affection grow stronger."

Marjorie feigned surprise. James never was good at backing off. He was dreadfully stubborn that way. Furrowing her brow at the turn of phrase, Marjorie turned toward the Dowager Viscountess, "Has the contract already been drawn then?"

Violet and Lady Danbury shared a look, and Marjorie had her answer. "Not yet," Danbury answered for the woman, "But anyone with eyes can see that it will come soon enough."

Marjorie found her gaze drawn to the couple once more. She had to disagree. There was no spirit between the two of them. The Duke kept his eyes front and Daphne was too busy staring at the scenery to pay him any attention. They looked as if they were business partners rather than young and in love.

She drifted to Augusta and Colin, who were leaning into one's presence, Colin's hand gently resting over Augusta's glove. The adoration was clear on both sides. Every other word seemed punctured with laughter, and she was certain that Daphne had not worn such a smile on her face the way Augusta was.

So why were Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton so convinced of the Duke's proposal?

"What about you Miss Baxter?" Violet's soft voice cut through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. Something danced in the woman's blue hues, and Marjorie had to resist furrowing her brow once again. "I have heard you and your sister have had quite the season."

"Thank you ma'am," Marjorie nodded with a smirk, recalling the overflowing parlor and the silly men who had tried to win them over,  "Augusta, I think, is far more likely to secure a match than I will at any rate." Violet raised a brow and Marjorie understood her cue to continue forward, "I have no desire to marry. At least, not this season anyway."

"Now that," Lady Danbury noticed, "Is a peculiar proclamation, Miss Baxter."

Marjorie simply shrugged. "As long as my brother and sister make wonderful matches for themselves, I am perfectly content with being an old maid."

The two older women shared another look, and this time she definitely saw something gleaming in their gazes. She could not stop the furrow of her brow this time, and Marjorie opened her mouth to question it before she was rudely cut off.

"You wished to see me Mother?"

Violet looked up with a wide smile, "Anthony! How marvelous!"

Marjorie forced herself to look elsewhere, the queer sensation that she was being watched by more than just Lady Danbury.

The shifting of footsteps entered her peripheral, and she resisted the urge to smirk at Anthony's stiff posture. 

Violet continued to speak, "Yes, I believe I am feeling quite ill. Perhaps you could do your duty as an older brother and chaperone your brother and sister? They are....quite engaged at present." 

The Dowager Viscountess gestured toward the two couples they had been people watching earlier.

Anthony let out a huff. "I would be honored, Mother, except it would be impolite of me to do so without a partner." A tightness fell over his face.

Marjorie's stomach dropped.

"How fortunate then," Lady Danbury interceded, "That Miss Baxter here was just telling us of her love of the outdoors."

Her brown eyes met blue and she thought she could see the blood drain out of his face. Left with little choice, Anthony pressed forward and offered his arm, "Miss Baxter?"

She regarded his raised eyebrow with one of her own. It was arched in a challenge, as if daring her to refuse his company and prove that she was the bawdy country girl people thought she was. Her lips tightened into a smile and she accepted it. "It would be an honor Lord Bridgerton."

She was sure Violet and Lady Danbury were patting themselves on the back as they spoke.

When they reached the road, Marjorie finally opened her mouth to speak. "It appears your mother is far more devious than I anticipated."

"Yes," Anthony replied curtly, "It is quite inconvenient at times."

Marjorie stifled a laugh, "So her throwing women at you is to be expected then?"

Anthony met her gaze with a knowing look, "At me, at my brothers, at any of her children really."

Marjorie tried not to giggle at the parallel nature of their mothers. It was true her own was far more overbearing than Lady Bridgerton, but still, a small pang of pity hit her chest at the thought. Unfortunately it did not go unnoticed by her escort.

"I suppose you find it amusing then Miss Baxter?" Anthony scoffed, but even she heard the playful hint in his voice, "Of course you would. That I should be subjugated to the same scrutiny that most women face during the season?"

Marjorie could not hold her laughter in then, "Well you have to admit it is a fair bit of irony," She claimed, leaning closer as if divulging a great secret, "London's most notorious rake felled by his mother's attempts to find him a wife."

The Viscount let out a long sigh before the two of them sat in rough silence, Marjorie forcing herself to look out at the beautiful London park. Truly this time of year was wonderful, and she supposed it would be nice to take a walk by herself every once in a while. Not that her mother would deem it proper.

Marjorie scoffed inwardly. There was little she did her mother would consider proper.

"What of your family, Miss Baxter?" Anthony's question caught her off guard, "Are they as...devious as my own?"

Unnerved by his sudden politeness, Marjorie straightened herself, tugging on the sleeves of her spencer. "Some of them are," She admitted, thoughts straying to her brother and mother, "My father and my sister are by far the most agreeable. There is little I wouldn't do for them." She turned to face the Viscount as she said that, purposefully withholding information. Just enough to endure civility.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Anthony nodded before turning his gaze toward his brother and Augusta further down the road, "Your sister...is she happy in London?"

Marjorie smiled at Augusta, who was currently laughing at Colin's side, "Very much so. The city agrees with her I think." She readjusted her grip as they continued to stroll, "I will be loathe to leave her in the fall."

She hardly missed the quizzical brow coming from her partner, "Do you not mean to stay around for another season Miss?" Anthony asked.

Marjorie scoffed, this time openly, "I am only here at the behest of my mother and my sister. As soon as Augusta is married and James is happily settled I will be returning to the country. Six months of fun is enough for me." 

She did not miss the surprised glare of the Viscount.

"And you do not intend the same as your sister?"

She searched his tone for any sign of mockery, but could find only simple curiosity, "Certainly not." It was no secret that Marjorie was far less open than Augusta, she was just surprised Anthony did not catch on. He had known her far longer, after all. "I suppose I am something of a romantic, the idea of loving one's partner...that is what appeals to me most of all."

The confession surprised the both of them equally, and Anthony's gaze clouded over curiously.

"My mother feels the same way." He admitted, "It is why she wishes all of her children to make love matches, regardless of status."

Marjorie's eyes widened at the admission. The Viscountess was certainly more open than most of society at this point. "Did your mother love your father?"

Anthony stiffened beside her, slowly turning his head until he met her gaze, "Very much."

Another bout of silence descended over them, this one much more comfortable than the last. But something tugged at the back of Marjorie's mind, wishing to know more. She had known the Viscount had died just several months after her family's retreat to the country, but she had not heard the manner of how. It didn't matter though, Marjorie recognized the crestfallen and faraway look on Anthony's face, the stiffening of his posture. It was the mannerism of someone in constant grief.

Marjorie had worn the same expression for months after Este's funeral. For the first time since reuniting with him, she actually felt a pang of sympathy for Anthony Bridgerton.

"Where in the country are you located?" The words tumbled from his mouth and the pang of sympathy disappeared. Marjorie rolled her eyes.

"Kent," She spoke curtly, going back to staring at the magnificent trees and hills of Hyde Park. "My father owns the land, and his father before him." Marjorie resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. Thankfully, Anthony was back to glaring at the couples on the road. She bit the inside of her cheek. "Should I be insulted by your faulty memory my lord?"

Anthony arched a brow.

Marjorie scoffed again, "We were after all, childhood friends. I should hope I made an impression beyond the local landowner's daughter?"

He said nothing, but continued to stare around the park, eyes landing on Augusta and Colin.

"Your Father's a merchant correct?"

Marjorie grit her teeth at the invasive question, "Correct, my lord." 

She knew what he was doing and she didn't like it. It was the same thing her father did when men in the country often approached them. It was the entire reason they were here in London searching for a husband rather than staying home in Kent. James was even worse.

Anthony continued to stare at Augusta and Colin, Marjorie's nails digging into her gloved palms, trying to keep her manners intact. 

"Your sister seems quite infatuated with my younger brother." He commented, "They would make quite the advantageous pair."

Marjorie dropped her hand from his arm, whirling on the gravel to face the Viscount, "If you have something to say my lord then I suggest you state it directly instead of dancing around the topic."

Anthony's eyes widened at her candor, but he tucked his hands behind his back and gave her the courtesy of being honest in return, "I will not pretend to be ignorant of your status Miss Baxter. Frankly, it is my chief concern when it comes to your sister's pursuit of my brother."

"You can't be serious--"

"Your mother has made more than one comment about it in the past, and Lady Whistledown has done little to discourage it," Anthony cut her off with a sharp look, "There is little I wouldn't do for my family as well, Miss Baxter."

Marjorie scoffed at the notion. "You truly believe my sister to be some sort of- of money hungry harpy set on stealing your brother away from you?"

He lowered his gaze to the ground before meeting hers again, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. 

Marjorie's mouth fell open at the confirmation, "How dare you make such a crass assumption? Just because we were not granted the luxury of a title doesn't mean we're searching for the first man with a fortune." She huffed, unable to deal with his insolent attitude any further. No wonder he was prying into her life, asking about her family, her estate. Her prospects. "Clearly you do not share your parents' wish for a love match. Although, I should have suspected as much, knowing your views on the subject--"

"It is because I respect their wishes that I bring this up!" Anthony's icy stare froze Marjorie in her tracks, shoulders tensing and voice raised. He let out a deep sigh and moved further from her, setting a hand on his hip, "I do not doubt that your sister is infatuated with my brother. But the true nature of her feelings has yet to be revealed and--"

"It's only been a day for christ's sake--"

"And yet they have known each other a week--"

"My sister is not so simple that she can be picked apart in seven days!" Marjorie's voice was sharp and pointed, just as it had been the night before. 

"Despite what you may think, Lord Bridgerton, women are just as complex as men are. We have motivations for marriage, yes, but we are more than that." Her jaw clenched, "We are not frogs to be dissected and studied and then tossed away when you are done with us."

Anthony opened his mouth to speak but then wisely shut it again.

Marjorie's face had scrunched itself into something distasteful, disgust curling up in her gut at what he was implying. "You pretend to understand us because you have had one conversation with a mother or a sister. We are not the same. Do not act as though we are."

With a final huff, she stormed away from the Viscount, heart pulsing a mile a minute, boiling her blood until it had reached her face, turning it red despite the heat.

How dare he make such a horrid assumption? Augusta was the kindest soul she knew. If she loved a man who'd only had fifty pounds a year nothing would have stopped her from marrying him. Just because Colin came from a prodigious family, suddenly her very honor was questioned.

The audacity was unbelievable. Without wasting any more time, she informed her father that she would be heading home, and walked along the way to their town house, picturing Anthony Bridgerton with a purple eye and several bruises. Mostly inflicted by her own hand.

The thought made her smile.

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DEAR READER,

It appears that if Miss Marjorie Baxter wishes to ensnare a Bridgerton, it will not be the eldest. For although they were seen promenading just a few paces behind Miss Augusta Baxter and Mr. Colin Bridgerton, let it be known that their courtship ended as quickly as it began. For this author caught sight of Miss Baxter storming away from Lord Bridgerton in quite a huff. 

Oh well, perhaps her sister will have better luck.

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THE ONLY VISIT the two sisters received that afternoon was a cordial follow up from Colin, who had sat with Augusta for nearly an hour, dropping off several bouquets of yellow roses for her, Marjorie, and their mother.

Marjorie couldn't help but smile. Violet Bridgerton certainly raised her sons well.

Leaving the happy couple in the parlor, Marjorie moved toward her own room, passing the study. A loud groan echoed off the walls and made her stop in her tracks. Peering in, Marjorie's heart sunk at the sight. Her brother was hunched over his desk, staring at books and charts and everything that he would never let her see.

"James?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if worried of sparking a temper she could not put out, "Is everything alright?"

James snapped his head up, eyes icy before they melted at the sight of his younger sister. Only a year apart, there was little they could hide from each other, unfortunately this also meant that they were more partial to spats than their other siblings. He let out a long sigh and turned his gaze back to his books.

"It's nothing Marge, just..." He waved her away, shoulders slumping until he almost resembled the Hunchback himself, "Leave me alone please."

She refused to. James was ten times worse when he was left to deal with something on his own. Her hand dangled on the edge of the chair, tilting her head slightly at the weary man.
"Clearly it's something or you wouldn't have made such a racket." She retorted, staring down at him.

James' gaze was surprisingly vulnerable when he met her eyes again. They were bloodshot, purple rimming his undereyes, clearly not being able to get enough sleep. She supposed that the season had only made his troubles worse.

"It's the paper." He finally confessed, collapsing back against his chair, head slumped in his palm, "Lady Whistledown has all but driven interest away from it with her gossip sheet and if I don't find an angel investor soon..."

Marjorie gulped.

Papa was growing more and more frail, James' business had been the only thing keeping their London home flourishing. They needed him.

Sensing a need for comfort, she sat down across from him, offering her hand across the desk, "I can't pretend to understand the deep intricacies of business," She lied, bolstering her brother. His comfort was more important than her pride right now. "But I do know that you, quite frankly, are the stubbornest man alive. If anyone can figure this problem out, it's you."

James lifted his head, but the weary look in his eyes told Marjorie all she needed to know. He exhaled deeply.

"Thank you sister." He paused for a moment, "I"m sorry my mind has been so absent of late. I originally intended to come to London to deal with this on my own, but then Mother insisted on bringing you and Augusta along and the season began and--"

"You don't have to apologize brother." She cut him off, a soft smile tugging on her lips, "Believe me, I think the two of us know enough of Mama's antics to understand that nothing would have deterred her this season." Marjorie chuckled mirthlessly, fidgeting in her seat. James's blue eyes met hers, so unlike the rest of his sisters.

He'd always been different from the rest of them. Far more serious. There was little mirth in his countenance, but every once in awhile, it would poke out. She'd seen it more recently during his dances with the Bridgerton girl.

"I admire you Marge," He admitted with a sigh, running a hand through his blonde curls, leaning forward on his desk, "You've never let Mother's opinions get in the way of your own dreams. I fear I do not have the same strength."

Marjorie reached over to grasp his hand in hers, giving him a comforting gaze, "You are my brother. We may have our share of fights and spats every now and then but the same blood runs through both of us. That same strength that is in me is in you too." Her grip tightened, "And you do not need Mother or Father to validate it."

He shot her a grateful smile, pressing his other hand on top of hers. "Thank you Marge." He blinked, "And I promise, I will try to be the brother you and Augusta deserve from now on."

She smiled and stood up, her skirts swishing around her legs as she moved to leave the study.

She had no idea that James was feeling the way he was.

While Lady Whistledown was entertaining, she hadn't thought of the impact it would have on the other papers of the ton. "James?" She queried, drawing his attention back to her.

The blonde man of the house stared up at her, "Yes?"
She picked at her nails once again, biting down on her lip before voicing her idea, "What if you gave Lady Whistledown a spot in your paper?"

Her brother furrowed his brows at her request and she forced herself to continue before she lost courage. "I know the ton has no idea who she is, but surely if you could manage to figure out where she prints her sheets, you could make her an offer."

"A share of royalties in exchange for the right to publish her paper."

Marjorie nodded, watching delight cross her brother's face. James chuckled, "That's not a bad idea."

Pride swelled in her chest, the delicate thread between the two siblings beginning to mend itself.