C H A P T E R  E I G H T
WRONG DIRECTION
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One may say modesty is a virtue, yet this author is hardly a virtuous woman. It is therefore my great pleasure to announce the news others questioned, but I never doubted. It will be the grandest wedding of the year. The diamond of the season has made her match, officially betrothed to the Duke of Hastings. Has something happened? The bride, undoubtedly, is giddy with anticipation over the impending nuptials... Of course, there are only two reasons to procure a special license and race to the altar: true love,or concealing a scandal.

Lady Whistledown

1813

The morning sun began to cast its gentle glow across the city of Mayfair. It was the next day and Emmaline had spent the restless hours staring at the ceiling, haunted by last night's events. Sleep had eluded her, replaced by a gnawing anxiety that clung to her like a relentless shadow. The haunting image of Anthony Bridgerton and Simon Hastings facing each other at dawn refused to release its grip on her consciousness as her mind kept imagining.

Mary, the housemaid, entered her room with a tray of breakfast. The sight of Emmaline, still wide awake and lost in thought, surprised Mary. Her eyes reflected concern as she set the tray down on a nearby table.

"My lady, have you been up all night?" Mary remarked softly, her hands moving with the practiced ease of someone who cared deeply for the well-being of her charge.

She managed a weak smile, shaking her head. "No, of course not Mary...." She lied, not wanting to worry her.

Mary sighed, sympathy etched on her face. "I'll prepare a calming tea for you after breakfast. Maybe that'll help ease your worries, my sweets."

Grateful for Mary's understanding, Emmaline nodded. "Thank you, Mary." She whispered gently.

After a modest breakfast, Emmaline was dressed with Mary's assistance, her mind still grappling with the events of the previous night. Her mother Eleanor walked into her bedroom, letting her know that Violet Bridgerton had invited them and her sisters for tea this morning. The impending visit to the Bridgertons added an additional layer of complexity to her emotions.

As she descended the grand staircase, her mother, Eleanor Davison, intercepted her path. "Dear, are you quite alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." Eleanor said in a soft tone.

"I'm fine mama, just a little bit tired."

Eleanor sighed. "Alright then."

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The crisp mid-morning air hung still as Anthony Bridgerton stood outside Madame Delacroix's shop, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. With a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked on the ornate door, the anticipation of seeing Siena.

The door creaked open, revealing not Siena, but Madame Delacroix herself, her smile fasting as she recognized the Viscount. Her eyes, once warm and welcoming, now held a guarded expression. Anthony inclined his head in a polite greeting.

"Madame Delacroix, good day. May I–" Anthony began, his eyes scanning the opulent room for any sign of Siena. His voice, though polite, held an undercurrent of urgency.

"She is not here," Madame Delacroix interrupted, her demeanor cool and composed as she attempted to close the door.

Anthony, however, intercepted, placing his hand instinctively on the door to prevent its closure. "I only beg a moment of her time," He implored, determined to convey the sincerity of his intentions. "She does not owe me her time, I know that. She does not owe me anything. But I wish to provide for her regardless, as I promised. She will be taken care of. Will you tell her?"

"You are too late. Siena's gone." Her eyes bore into his. Her gaze softened her face filled with a combination of skepticism and weariness. A sigh escaped her lips.

"Gone?" Anthony's heart sank, the weight of disappointment settling heavily upon him. "You mean, she's left town?" His voice betrayed a hint of desperation, his heart pounding at the realization that Sienna might have slipped away from him.

"Indeed. As it transpires, my lord, she does not need your money, nor anything else from you, for that matter," She stated firmly.

The weight of realization settled upon Anthony, a heavy burden that he struggled to bear. "Tell me where she is?" he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice.

Madame Delacroix's steely gaze remained unwavering. "Leave the young lady alone." Her words were a stern warning. "Have you not done enough?" With those words, the door closed, shutting Anthony out.

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The carriage awaited them outside, and Emmaline, her mother, and her older sister Augusta embarked on the short journey to the Bridgerton residence. Upon arriving at the Bridgerton household, the butler, Humboldt, welcomed them graciously, leading them to the sitting room where Lady Violet Bridgerton awaited their company.

"Eleanor, what a pleasure to see you!" Violet exclaimed, embracing Eleanor warmly before turning her attention to the girls. "And Augusta and Emmaline, how lovely of you to join us." Violet greeted each of them in turn, her eyes twinkling with excitement as she told them the news of Daphne's engagement. "Come in, come in. We have much to celebrate today."

With a gracious nod, Eleanor led her daughters into the opulent foyer of the Bridgerton home, where they were met by the sight of Daphne as she made her way to the parlor. "Oh, congratulations my dears!" Eleanor exclaimed, embracing the bride-to-be with genuine affection. "We are simply overjoyed for you. Please send our congratulations to the Duke as well."

"Thank you, Eleanor," Daphne replied, her voice soft but filled with warmth. "We couldn't be happier." Daphne's mind still clouded with thoughts of the previous day's events. She couldn't shake the image of Simon dueling with Anthony, her brother, and the tension that had hung thick in the air. The engagement between her and Simon felt bittersweet now, tainted by the knowledge of the violence that had transpired. She had not yet fully processed the implications of what had happened, and the weight of it all sat heavily upon her shoulders.

The three girls made their way and took a seat. Emmaline and Augusta sat next to each other as Daphne sat across from them. Augusta, ever eager to seize the spotlight, wasted no time in peppering Daphne with questions about the wedding plans. "Oh, Daphne dear, I simply cannot wait for your wedding!" Augusta exclaimed with a gleeful smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm sure it will be the event of the season!"

Daphne managed a small smile in response, her mind still preoccupied with the events of the duel.

"I must say, Daphne, your engagement has been the talk of the town," she remarked, her tone dripping with faux sweetness. "I do hope the wedding will be just as grand."

Emmaline observed her sister and best friend with a furrowed brow. She could sense the tension in the air. Emmaline was the only person in the room that knew about what transpired to the moment of Daphne's engagement. She rolled her eyes at Augusta's thinly veiled attempt to provoke a reaction, but before she could interject, Augusta continued.

"And of course, you'll need to ensure that everything is perfect," Augusta added, her gaze flickering towards Daphne's gown with a critical eye. "After all, a Bridgerton wedding must be nothing short of spectacular."

Emmaline couldn't help but bristle at her sister's arrogance. "Augusta, please," she muttered under her breath, shooting her sister a warning look.

But Augusta merely shrugged off her sister's admonition, her attention already drifting back to Daphne. "Oh, don't mind me," she said breezily. "I'm simply offering some friendly advice and after all, a woman's greatest achievement is securing a suitable match, is it not?"

Daphne bristled at Augusta's words, her cheeks flushing with anger and taken aback by her friend's comment. Before she could retort, however, Emmaline spoke up, her voice firm and unwavering.

"Augusta, perhaps you should refrain from speaking on matters you know nothing about," Emmaline said pointedly, her gaze locking with Augusta's. "Daphne's happiness is what truly matters, not society's expectations or conventions."

Augusta's jaw dropped in disbelief, stunned into silence by her sister's small outburst. She felt a surge of frustration building within her.

Emmaline longed to shake her sister from her self-absorbed reverie but before she could continue, Daphne interjected. "It's quite alright, Emmaline," she said with a small smile. "Augusta has always been one to speak her mind."

Emmaline sighed. She longed to confide in Daphne, to share the burden of her guilt and uncertainty, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet, at least.

"How did the Duke propose then?" Augusta asked as she tried to change the subject.

Daphne's smile faltered slightly at the mention of the proposal. Both her and Emmaline's eyes widened slightly from the thought of it. She glanced at Emmaline, hoping to find solace in her friend's familiar face. Emmaline turned her gaze at Daphne, her best friend since childhood, seeing a hint of sadness in her eyes.

Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word, her attention was diverted by the sound of her mother's voice.

"Girls, do come and join us," Violet called from across the room, her smile warm and inviting. "We were just about to discuss the wedding plans."

With a grateful nod, Daphne excused herself from the conversation, and the Davison sisters followed behind her. As Augusta walked away from them, Emmaline sensed the tension in Daphne's demeanor and reached out her hand as she pulled them into the hallway out of the parlor room. "Daphne, are you all right?" Emmaline asked softly, concern etched into her features.

Daphne blinked, startled out of her thoughts, and offered Emmaline a weak smile. "Oh, Emma, I'm sorry," she murmured, "I...I'm fine. It's just... preoccupied with everything that's been happening lately and well, there's so much to think about, isn't there?"

"I know..." she replied quietly as she nodded understandingly. She knew the weight of the secret they carried, the knowledge of the duel known only to them. She reached out for Daphne's hand, intertwining her fingers, offering a tight and reassuring squeeze. "You just have to get through this wedding and from there well... the rest will be easy I'm sure of it." She said softly.

Daphne's smile softened at Emmaline's words, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. She wanted to believe her friend, to cling to the hope that things would indeed get easier once the ceremony was over. "I hope you're right, Emmaline."

But Emmaline frowned, her worry deepening at the sight of her friend's troubled expression. "Is there something else bothering you, Daph?" she asked, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

Daphne hesitated for a moment before she spoke. "I just... I wish Victoria were here," she admitted softly.

Victoria Crawford, the daughter of the Marquess of Essex and Daphne's other closest friend. Due to her father's responsibilities, Victoria was often away on travels with her family. Emmaline's heart twinged with sympathy, knowing how much Daphne valued her friendship with Victoria.

Emmaline nodded in understanding, her own heart aching with the absence of their dear friend. "I miss her too," she admitted. "If Victoria had it her way, she'd be here celebrating with us, laughing and dancing the night away."

Daphne's eyes softened at Emmaline's words, a sense of comfort washing over her at the shared sentiment. "She always knew how to make me laugh, even in the darkest of times. I could use her strength and wisdom now more than ever."

Emmaline nodded in understanding, her own memories of Victoria flooding back. "I know, but even in her absence, she's with us in spirit." She smiled. "We'll have to write to her," She suggested. "Let her know that she's missed and that we're thinking of her."

Daphne smiled gratefully, the warmth returning to her eyes. "Yes, let's do that. I'm sure she would appreciate hearing from us. Thank you, Emmaline," she said, gratitude shining through her words. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Emmaline squeezed Daphne's hand once more, a silent promise of her continued support. "You'll never have to find out,"

"Now shall we head back to the parlor?"

That's how Emmaline Davison found herself amidst the lively chaos and the bustling wedding preparations at the Bridgerton estate.

Meanwhile, an hour goes by as Anthony steps into the bustling household, the air thick with the scent of flowers and the sound of bustling servants. He had just returned from a rather intense discussion with Madame Delacroix, his mind still reeling with the weight of the conversation. He hadn't expected to encounter Emmaline, not so soon after his return. There she was, assisting his mother and sister Daphne with the preparations for Daphne's wedding.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched her from afar as she moved about the room, assisting his mother and sister with the wedding arrangements. There was an air of determination about her, a grace that captivated him even in the midst of his turmoil.

Amid the wedding chatter, Emmaline's eyes unexpectedly met with Anthony's. Her heart pounded in her chest as she locked eyes with him. His presence sent a jolt of anger and hurt coursing through her veins. Without a word, she averted her eyes, her hands trembling as she gathered the courage to speak.

"May I be excused?" She asked, her voice a little more strained than she intended. Her composure hung by a thread as she addressed her mother and Lady Violet, her eyes still fixed on the floor.

Lady Eleanor exchanged a concerned glance with Lady Violet before nodding in acquiescence. "Of course, dear. Take all the time you need."

With a murmured word of thanks, Emmaline fled the room, her footsteps echoing through the hallway as she made her escape to the garden. She took a moment to collect her thoughts. The cool breeze brushed against her cheeks, soothing her frayed nerves as she struggled to regain her composure. But her moment of solitude was short-lived, as she heard footsteps approaching from behind.

Yet her respite was short-lived, for Anthony's voice shattered the silence, calling out to her amidst the rustling of leaves and–.

"Emmaline," he called out, his voice tinged with concern

Her anger bubbled to the surface like a volcano on the verge of eruption. She refused to acknowledge him, her jaw set in a stubborn line as she continued to briskly walk away through the garden.

"Emmaline, wait!"

Ignoring his pleas, her heart hammered in her chest as she quickened her pace. She could feel his presence closing in on her, his voice growing nearer with each step.

But Anthony wasn't so easily discouraged, his footsteps drawing closer. "Stop walking away from me!" He pleaded.

"Why should I listen to you!" she retorted as she kept walking away, her back turned to him.

When he finally caught up to her, his hand reached out for hers, but she yanked her arm away, her anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don't," she snapped, her voice betraying her agitation as she finally turned to face him. "Just... don't."

"Emmaline, please," he implored, trying to understand the cause of her distress.

Yet Emmaline remained resolute in her silence, marching away angrily. As they entered more into the garden, where it was more secluded, the tension reached its peak.

"What have I done? I don't understand why you are so angry with me," he asked.

Emmaline's jaw clenched as she struggled to contain her emotions. "You know perfectly well why," she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

Frustration bubbled within Anthony as he closed the distance between them. They stood facing each other, tension thick in the air. "Would you just talk to me and tell me what's wrong Emma!"

Emmaline stopped abruptly, whirling around to face him, her eyes blazing with anger. "What's wrong?" she echoed incredulously. "How could you be so reckless, Anthony?"

Anthony's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he yelled, his voice tinged with concern. And then it hit him.

Emmaline knew.

And then it spilled out, the words she had been holding back, the fear and frustration bubbling to the surface. "How could you be so foolish? Challenging Simon to a duel!" Emmaline exclaimed.

"Emma..." he whispered softly.

"How dare you keep something like this from me? Or the fact that you put yourself in danger without a second thought for those who care about you?" she cried, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

"I demanded satisfaction," he began as he shook his head in disbelief, but Emmaline cut him off with a bitter laugh.

"Satisfaction?" she scoffed. "At the risk of your life? At the risk of leaving your family behind, of leaving..."

Me behind?

"Emmaline, you will never understand," he snapped. "I had to do what was necessary to protect my family's honor!" He scolded her.

"I do understand but at what cost!" Tears welled up in Emmaline's eyes as she continued to lash out at him. "You could've had the Duke's blood on your hands. Simon could've died! You could've died, Anthony," She exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and fear.

The pain in her words cut through Anthony like a knife, his own guilt mirrored in the depths of his gaze. He felt the weight of her words like a physical blow, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. He stepped towards her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. But Emmaline struggled against him, her fists pounding against his chest.

"You could've died, you bloody idiot. You could've died..."Her voice broke as tears streamed down her cheeks, her anger melting into raw, unadulterated fear.

"I'm sorry, Emmaline. I'm so sorry." He hated himself for causing her such anguish, for being the source of her tears.

She buried her head in his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt as she clung to him desperately. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she cried into his chest. He hated to see her like this, knowing that he was the cause of her pain.

"Do you have any idea what it felt like to hear about it secondhand, to fear that I might lose you?" she said as her tears continued to flow freely

Anthony's expression softened with understanding as her words washed over him. "Emmaline, I... I didn't mean to worry you," he whispered timidly.

"Please don't ever jeopardize your life like that again," she pleaded, her voice softening as tears welled up in her eyes. With that, she buried her head in his chest, seeking comfort in his arms.

He pulled back slightly as he looked into her eyes, wiping away her tears with his thumb before he lifted her chin with his finger, gently "I promise... you have my word." he said softly.

With those words, Anthony wrapped his arms around her once more, holding her close as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering against her soft curls as he held her close, unwilling to let her go. He held her there, letting her tears soak into his shirt as he whispered soothing words of comfort.

"Emma, are you crying?" came a voice from behind them.

Their moment was interrupted by the youngest Bridgerton sibling, Hyacinth, who stood at the garden entrance, observing the scene with innocent curiosity as she approached the pair with a furrowed brow.

Startled, both Emmaline and Anthony hastily pulled away from each other, putting enough distance between them as they attempted to compose themselves. Anthony cleared his throat, and Emmaline discreetly wiped away her tears.

Emmaline turned to face Hyacinth, mustering a smile despite the lingering traces of sadness in her eyes. "Oh, sweetheart, I wasn't crying," she assured her.

But Hyacinth was not easily convinced. Tilting her head to the side, she regarded Emmaline with a thoughtful expression "But you were," she insisted, her gaze flickering between Emmaline and Anthony. "Did Anthony make you cry? Brother? Brother!"

Anthony opened his mouth to protest, but Emmaline beat him to it. "No, no, no, he didn't," she said, quickly, her smile widening. "He's a gentleman, you see," she continued, casting a fond glance at Anthony. "He would never make a lady cry." She chuckled softly.

Anthony couldn't help but admire Emmaline's ability to navigate the situation with grace, though he couldn't deny the pang of guilt that gnawed at his conscience. He watched her closely as she spoke, his heart aching at the sight of her masked pain.

"Then why are you crying? Who made you upset?" She asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"No one made me upset, Hyacinth," She lied, she didn't want her to worry. "You see, my dear, these were tears of joy," she explained, her words infused with a sense of hope."I was simply overwhelmed with happiness for your sister Daphne."

Hyacinth's confusion melted into understanding. "Oh I see," she said, her voice bright with innocence, "happy tears then?"

Emmaline nodded, her smile softening as she met Hyacinth's gaze. "Yes, darling," she replied, her voice warm with affection, "happy tears indeed."

"You must be excited for her wedding then," she exclaimed.

"Exactly."

A smile spread across Hyacinth's face as she nodded in agreement. "I hope I have the same love story as Daphne and the Duke," she said with a dreamy look crossing her young features.

Emmaline's smile wavered at Hyacinth's words, a fleeting sadness flickering in her eyes as she exchanged a knowing glance with Anthony. They both silently prayed that Hyacinth's wish would not be granted.

Anthony cleared his throat, redirecting Hyacinth's attention. Trying to break the tension that hung in the air. "Hyacinth, shouldn't you be with your governess right now?" he interjected, his voice light but firm.

"Oh, right! I almost forgot." She exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Daphne is looking for you, Emmaline. She wants you to accompany her and Mama to the modiste." Hyacinth explained as she grabbed Emmaline's arm eagerly.

"Of course, I'd be delighted. I'll meet you inside." She smiled.

As Hyacinth skipped back towards the house, leaving Anthony and Emmaline alone once more. Anthony turned to Emmaline with a playful smirk. "Well played, Miss Davison," he teased, "you certainly know how to handle my sister."

"What can I say I'm an expert,", she shrugged her shoulders in a playful manner, smiling

"Are we okay?"

"... Yes, we're okay" She said with a small smile, "but it's going to take a lot more than that to be forgiven Ant, I'll tell you that right now" She explained.

Just as Anthony was about to respond he heard Hyacinth yell for Emmaline. He chuckled as Hyacinth eagerly waited for her.

"Duty calls," He said with a small smile, looking at Emmaline.

"I suppose it is." She said, returning a small smile as she looked at Anthony.

"Wouldn't want to keep her waiting, after all." Anthony chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on Emmaline's face.

"God forbid I let that happen," she said with a playful wink

"Indeed," he agreed, returning her smile.

With that, he watched as Emmaline left the garden to follow Hyacinth, a mix of regret and longing in his gaze as they headed back inside the Bridgerton house.

A sense of longing stirred within him. He yearned to follow Emmaline, to mend the rift between them and make things right. But he knew it would take more than words to earn her forgiveness.

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"Your wedding gown is a long way from being finished, Miss Bridgerton. I promise you will not be disappointed." Madame Delacroix assured her.

Daphne stood still as Madame Delacroix pinned the bottom of her wedding dress. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, her reflection framed by billowing silk and cascading lace. The wedding gown, a masterpiece in the making, enveloped her in its embrace, a vision in white.

Emmaline couldn't help but smile as she watched the transformation unfold. Daphne was already breathtaking, and the final creation would undoubtedly be a masterpiece.

"She will need a new pelisse too, and then the more intimate items," Violet remarked, her tone practical yet tinged with excitement. "Four nightdresses, perhaps? Or five?"

"Why could I possibly need with five new nightdresses?" Daphne scoffed before chuckling as she glanced at her reflection in the mirror.

Emmaline couldn't help but pause at Daphne's reaction. She wondered the same thing.

Surely she knew what would happen during a honeymoon... right? The thought lingered in Emmaline's mind as Madame Delacroix chimed in with her own perspective.

"They are not for you, ma chère, but for your amoureux," Madame Delacroix explained with a knowing smile. "What else do you think a honeymoon is for?"

Emmaline's brows furrowed slightly.

What does she mean by that? Is there more to it?

"It will be a most special time, dear," Violet reassured her daughter, though Emmaline couldn't shake the feeling that Daphne remained somewhat in the dark. "Yes, five. Five nightdresses will do nicely," Violet chuckled, finalizing the arrangements with Madame Delacroix before the modiste excused herself momentarily.

The shop door opened and closed behind her, drawing Emmaline's attention as she turned to see who it was. Cressida Cowper swept past her as her gaze fixed upon Daphne.

"Daphne, how lovely to see you. Oh, I do hope your wedding dress will be ready in time. Madame Delacroix must be working fast," Cressida greeted Daphne with a fake smile.

Oh, how Emmaline wanted to wipe that smug look off Cressida's face. She can already hear her mother's voice telling her how it's improper for a lady to feel hatred toward another lady. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She tries to obey her mother's rules but god she feels like the universe has a funny way of testing her patience, especially when it comes to Cressida.

"Mama, might you spare me a moment? I must have Cressida's opinion on some fabric. Her taste is impeccable," Daphne lied, seamlessly diverting her mother's attention.

"Of course, dear,"

Daphne hummed and led Cressida over to where Emmaline stood, surrounded by bolts of fabric.

"I am to have a new pelisse for my honeymoon. What about this color? Trimmed with fur, perhaps,"

"Fur at this time of year?" Cressida questioned, "Well, I suppose it depends on how much time you and the Duke spend outdoors. But you are fond of a midnight garden stroll, I believe."

Emmaline tensed at the mention of the gardens, her mind racing as she anticipated the confrontation that seemed inevitable.

"I do not know what you mean," Daphne replied coolly, her facade slipping slightly as she attempted to maintain a façade of innocence.

"I am almost certain I saw the two of you in the gardens at the Trowbridge ball. No chaperone in sight," Cressida implies in a threatening tone.

"How strange. I do not recall leaving the ballroom." Daphne said, her tone darring. "Though I dare say it would have been difficult to see the gardens with any real clarity at night, unless you were actually out in them yourself."

"My view of the garden was perfectly clear from the safety of the terrace, Daphne," Cressida defended, her gaze sharp and calculating. "You dallied with the Prince purely to rouse the Duke's jealousy, then you lured him into those gardens to trap him into marriage. I never would have imagined that a Bridgerton would ever come to know such shame."

Emmaline's patience wore thin at Cressida's accusations, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "You should consider your words more carefully, Cressida." She interjected as she glared, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "In a matter of days, Daphne is to be a Duchess, and you are to be just as you are now, unmarried and untitled. So you can either be a Duchess's friend or her enemy. I have chosen a friend, but it is entirely up to you."

"Oh, you're here too. It's always like you, who won't stop minding other businesses." Cressidia shot back. "I'd like to first see if she can drag him down the aisle at all."

Emmaline Davison's jaw clenched, her fingers curled into fists, itching to wipe the smug expression right off Cressida's face.

Cressidia turned her gaze back to Daphne. "I would imagine a man like the Duke does not take kindly to being forced into anything," she sneered.

As Cressida's heels clicked against the wooden floor as she walked away, Emmaline let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as she watched the door swing shut. Her presence had always irked Emmaline, but today it felt more.

"She had no right speaking to you in that w–"

But before Emmaline could dwell further on her irritation, she turned around as her eyes fell upon Daphne, who walked back toward the full-length mirror, her fingers tracing the delicate lace of her wedding dress as her face softened. Despite Daphne's attempts to appear unaffected, it was clear that Cressida's words had taken a toll on her.

A soft smile tugged at Emmaline's lips as she approached her. "You know," she said softly, "The Duke won't be able to take his eyes off you," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

Daphne managed a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I hope you're right, Emma," she replied softly, her fingers tracing the delicate lace of her gown. "What do you think Victoria would say?" she asked quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

"I think she would tell you how beautiful you look. A true diamond indeed, and I wholeheartedly agree" She said with a warm and reassuring smile.

Daphne sank into a nearby chair, her gaze still fixed on her reflection. "But what if she knew the truth?" she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Would she be disappointed in me?"

"No no no absolutely not. She wouldn't be disappointed in you, Daph, not at all" Emmaline walked over and knelt down beside her, taking Daphne's hand in her own, intertwining their fingers. Her own eyes reflected a mixture of empathy and understanding. "And as for the rest," she continued, her voice soft, "Victoria would've told you to make the most of the situation, to find joy in it, even if it's not ideal," she said softly.

Leaning in closer, Emmaline brushed a stray lock of hair away from Daphne's face, her touch gentle and comforting. "Your childhood dreams are coming true, Daphne," she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. "And Victoria would've wanted nothing more than for you to embrace that."

Memories flooded Daphne's mind as she thought back to simpler times, when she and her friends would dream about marrying their true love one day.

"Do you remember when we were girls?" Emmaline asked softly, a fond smile playing at her lips. "How we would talk about our weddings for hours til end? About how perfect they would be?"

Daphne chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with memories. "How could I forget?" A nostalgic smile graced her lips as she recalled those innocent conversations. "We were so young but yet had such grand plans.... Everything was all planned out," She recalled fondly with a small smile.

Emmaline's heart swelled with nostalgia, remembering the whispered promises of fairy-tale endings that once danced upon the lips of three young girls. "We did," she said quietly, "And look at you now," she said, her voice filled with admiration, "You're about to marry the most eligible bachelor in London."

Daphne's smile faltered slightly as she glanced back at her reflection in the mirror. "But I do not believe that he loves me Emma." She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course he does Daphne... Simon loves you," she said firmly, her gaze unwavering, "And the way Simon looks at you..." She paused, she couldn't help but think of Anthony. She remembered how he had once made feel, as though she were the only star in his vast celestial sky. He looked at her as if she were the very air he breathes, as if he cannot fathom a world without her in it...

Or so she thought.

Her smile slowly faded away as she thought back. Returning her focus to Daphne, "... he looks at you is like the stars gazing down upon the earth, in awe of its beauty and grace. It's a love that transcends words, a love that consumes him entirely. Every moment with you is a gift beyond measure" she smiled, her heart swelling with love for her dear friend.

A soft blush colored Daphne's cheeks as she met Emmaline's gaze, her eyes sparkling with a newfound hope. "Is it?" she whispered, a shy smile gracing her lips.

"It is."

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

The church bells chimed, echoing through the vast space of the cathedral, as Anthony Bridgerton stood inside as he waited to see the archbishop.

Footsteps echoed, against the stone floors, the only sound besides the distant ringing. Anthony turned to see Simon Bassett, the Duke of Hastings, entering the church. Despite his tardiness, Simon offered a sincere apology as he made his way towards Anthony.

Simon offered a small smile as he entered, his gaze meeting Anthony's. "Apologies for my tardiness," he said, his voice low and measured.

"Not at all," Anthony replied. "The archbishop is yet to arrive."

With the church bells continuing to ring in the background, an awkward silence settled between the two men. It was impossible to ignore the tension that lingered in the air, a palpable reminder of the duel that had threatened to tear their friendship apart.

Anthony cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "We should discuss Daphne's dowry,"

"There is nothing to discuss," Simon's expression turned somber as he shook his head. "I will not accept one."

Anthony's brows furrowed in confusion. "I beg your pardon?"

"I need not be paid to marry Daphne," Simon asserted firmly. "It is an insulting custom in my judgment. You may place the money in trust for her, but you need not harbor any doubts of my intention to support your sister. Her well-being is my responsibility now." Simon met his gaze unwaveringly. "I take that duty with the utmost seriousness."

Anthony was taken aback by Simon's declaration, his expression softening as he processed the sincerity in his friend's words. For all his faults and flaws, there was no denying the depth of the man's commitment to Daphne. "I must apologize for, uh...well..." he began, his words trailing off awkwardly.

"Shooting at me?" Simon finished Anthony's sentence with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he arched an eyebrow in amusement.

Anthony winced. "Indeed."

Simon chuckled softly. "I would have thought you dishonorable had you not," he remarked with a grin. "Besides, you have always been a terrible shot. You'd have stood a greater chance of wounding me if you had simply fired straight up in the air."

Anthony couldn't help but chuckle at the jest, and was grateful for the ease and the tension between them disappearing little by little. "Your Grace," he said, inclining his head respectfully as the archbishop entered the church. "May I express my gratitude for your granting of this special license?" he asked politely.

"Perhaps, my lord, you should not," he said, leaving both Anthony and Simon exchanging confusing glances.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow seeping through the windows of the Davison estate. Inside one of the rooms, Emmaline sat at her desk, a single candle flickering beside her as she wrote away, pouring her soul onto the parchment. Each stroke of ink on parchment felt like an extension of her soul, pouring out her innermost thoughts and emotions into the written word. Crafting her verse after verse of the words that captured the essence of her soul. The words of her latest poem swirled in her mind, begging to be released onto the page. She had always found solace in the quiet hours of the night, when the world seemed to slow down and her thoughts could flow freely.

Her eyes, once bright with wonder and joy,

Now clouded by fear, a shattered toy,

Her spirit crushed by the weight of the night,

As darkness consumes the flicker of light.

No refuge found in the arms of sleep,

For nightmares haunt, their secrets deep,

And with each passing day, her innocence fades,

Lost to the violence, the relentless raids....

Lost in the rhythm of her words, Emma barely registered the soft tapping against her window. At first, she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, a trick of the night playing tricks on her weary mind but as the tapping persisted, pulling her away from her writing. Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder as she looked toward her window

Who could be calling at such a late hour?

Setting down her quill, Emmaline rose and pushed back her chair, making her way over to the window, curiosity getting the better of her. Drawing back the curtain, her heart skipping a beat when she recognized the figure standing below. She was surprised to find Anthony Bridgerton standing below outside, tossing pebbles against her balcony window in order to catch her attention.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, even as she rolled her eyes. Shaking her head at the audacity of this man.

Anthony Bridgerton what are you up to now?

She opened the window with a gentle push, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she leaned out, meeting Anthony's warm brown eyes with a mixture of amusement and fondness.

"What on earth are you doing here, Anthony?" A soft laugh escaped her lips . "Have you gone mad?" she teased, her voice barely above a whisper as she shook her head in mock disapproval.

Below her, Anthony Bridgerton looked up, his brown eyes twinkling with mischief as he met her gaze, a devilish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Perhaps a little," he admitted in a light and teasing tone.

"What brings you here then?"

"Thought you might need some company" he replied with a grin, his voice carrying a playful edge.

"You do realize that if my parents catch you here, they'll have both our heads."

Anthony's grin only widened, his gaze never leaving hers. "They'll never know if I sneak into your bedroom,"he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

Her smile faltered slightly. "You know very well that they've forbidden me from seeing you," she reminded him.

Anthony's smirk only grew more pronounced. "So, are you going to invite me in?" he asked with a sly smirk, his tone playful as he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

A blush crept onto Emma's cheeks at the suggestion, and she glanced around nervously, checking to ensure that they were indeed alone while also making sure they wouldn't be seen by the prying eyes of the ton. Emma bit her lip in contemplation. With a final glance downward, once she felt the coast was clear, she waved him in to climb the oak tree leading to her balcony

"Fine," she whispered,her heart pounding in her chest. "But be quick about it."

With a grin, Anthony wasted no time climbing the sturdy oak tree that was covered in ivy that stood outside that led to her balcony, using its sturdy branches to make his way up to her room. It wasn't long before he appeared at the window, Swinging his leg over the windowsill and stepping inside as his breath came slightly labored from the climb.

"This used to be a lot easier to climb when I was a younger"

"Not much has changed then."

"I don't know about that."

She smiled as she shook her head, entering her bedroom. Anthony smiled but as he stepped into her room, his foot caught on the edge of the windowsill, sending him stumbling forward with a yelp. Emma's eyes widened in alarm as she watched him tumble towards her, her arms instinctively reaching out to catch him.

With a soft thud, Anthony landed on top of Emma, his weight pressing her back against the floorboards. For a moment, they lay there in stunned silence, the air thick with the palpable tension of their closeness. Concern flickered across Anthony's features as he hovered above her, his eyes searching hers for any sign of discomfort.

"Are you alright, Emma?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, peering down at her with furrowed brows.

Then, to Emma's surprise, a giggle bubbled up from her throat, escaping before she could stop it.

"I'm fine," she assured him, her voice tinged with amusement as she reached up to cover her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh."

Anthony's eyes widened in disbelief, but his lips turned into a smile as he joined in her laughter, the sound filling the room and echoing off the walls. He shook his head, his grin still firmly in place.

"Don't apologize," he said, his voice warm with amusement. "I deserved that."

And with that, the tension between them seemed to melt away, replaced by a comfortable ease that Emma found herself sinking into. He stumbled slightly as he stood up, trying to regain his composure, causing Emma to giggle softly at his clumsiness. She got up from the floor and made her toward her window, closing it.

"So, what brings you here at this ungodly hour?" Emma asked, her voice laced with amusement as she settled back into her chair.

Anthony's answer was simple but genuine, "I wanted to see you."

"You just saw me moments ago."

"Well yes."

"So why couldn't this wait til morning?" She raised her eyebrows

"I wanted to spend more time with you today... if it weren't for Hyacinth."

Emmaline couldn't help but smile, laughing softly. "You never cease to amaze me, Anthony Bridgerton"

"Well, I'm only this way for you" He smiled.

Soon, the pair found themselves reclining on the floor, nestled on the soft carpet. As they lay there, side by side, the conversation flowed easily between them. Emma told him of the latest gossip from the modistes, recounting her encounter with Daphne and the unexpected run-in with Cressida.

Meanwhile, Anthony regaled her with tales of his recent visit to the chapel, recounting the frustrations of his failed attempt to secure a special license for Daphne and Simon's impending wedding.

"Denied?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "What on earth for?"

Anthony shrugged, "The archbishop of Canterbury did not think he owed me an explanation."

Emma's brow furrowed in concern. "If they are to wait weeks for this wedding," she said slowly, "it gives Cressida Cowper, not to mention Whistledown and anyone else, far too much time to uncover the truth of what happened in that garden."

"Lady Danbury suggested that the Queen is behind this."

"I wouldn't put it past her if she is," she admitted.

But before they could delve any further into the matter, Emma's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden realization.

"How did Daphne take the news?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Anthony's expression softened, his eyes clouded with worry. "Scared," he admitted. "Worried that it is going to get out."

Emma sighed, her heart aching for her friend. "Surely we must be able to do something?" she said, her voice pleading.

"Lady Danbury has already arranged for Daphne and Simon to speak with the Queen, along with my mother and Lady Danbury herself," he explained, his voice filled with quiet resolve.

Emmaline felt a surge of hope at his words, grateful for the support of their allies in such uncertain times. But even as she clung to that hope, a sense of unease settled over her, a nagging feeling that things were only going to get more complicated from here on out.

"When did life ever get so complicated?" she murmured, more to herself than to Anthony.

It shouldn't be this complicated, right?

But there was no answer to her question, only the quiet rustle of leaves outside her window as the night stretched on, and the two of them lay together in the darkness.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

Two days had passed since the pivotal meeting between Daphne, Simon, and the queen, where the much-awaited special license was granted. Emmaline found herself seated with her family in the church, surrounded by the lively conversations of the Bridgerton clan and the guests on Simon's side.

Eleanor leaned in close to Emmaline, her words a quiet yet insistent murmur. "This could be you next season," she whispered with a small smile, her gaze fixed ahead.

Emmaline shifted uncomfortably. "Why are you in such a hurry to marry me off, Mother?" she frowned as she turned to meet her mother's gaze.

"We've delayed your debut for far too long." Eleanor replied, her words laced with concern. "We can't risk you becoming a spinster."

"I'd rather be a spinster than marry someone I hardly know," Emmaline shot back in a low whisper, her frustration evident as she looked down at her fingers.

Emmaline's feelings toward her mother's relentless pressure to marry during her first season were a mix of frustration, defiance, and a deep-seated desire for autonomy. As she sat in the church, her mother's whispered words echoing in her mind, Emmaline couldn't help but feel suffocated by the expectations thrust upon her.

The weight of her mother's insistence bore down on her, a constant reminder of the narrow path society expected her to follow. With each lecture to find a suitable match, Emmaline felt the walls closing in, the pressure to conform to societal norms stifling her own desires and aspirations. Her reluctance to enter into a marriage of convenience, particularly with someone she barely knew, stemmed from a fierce determination to carve out her own path in life. Emmaline longed for a connection based on genuine affection and mutual respect, rather than the empty formalities of high society.

Despite her mother's well-meaning intentions, Emmaline couldn't help but resent the way she was being railroaded into a life she hadn't chosen for herself. The prospect of being forced into a loveless marriage filled her with dread, driving her to assert her independence in whatever small ways she could.

As she sat amidst the bustling chatter of the church, Emmaline's inner turmoil simmered just beneath the surface, a silent rebellion against the expectations imposed upon her. Though she smiled politely and played the part of the dutiful daughter, her heart yearned for a future of her own making, free from the constraints of society's rigid expectations.

"Oh, Lady Davison, you know she ought to marry for love."

From the row in front, Violet Bridgerton turned around towards them, extending a comforting hand towards Emmaline and squeezing it gently. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I've told Daphne and all my children." Violet continued, her tone reassuring. "You must simply marry the man who feels like your dearest friend."

A gentle small smile played on Emmaline lips.

"And who might that be, Lady Violet?" Elenor asked as she raised her eyebrow.

A playful glint danced in Violet's eyes as she winked at Emmaline. "I have someone in mind," she teased cryptically, a hopeful smile playing on her lips.

Emmaline returned the smile, though her stomach churned with uncertainty. "All in due time." She chuckles nervously, "Today..." She paused, her gaze drifting towards the aisle where Daphne would soon make her grand entrance, "it's Daphne's day, and I'm incredibly happy for her."

Before Violet could respond, the sweet strains of a string quartet filled the air, announcing Daphne's grand entrance. The entire congregation rose to their feet, eagerly awaiting the bride's entrance. All eyes turned towards the aisle, where Daphne, radiant in white, walked beside her brother, captivating everyone with her beauty. Emmaline watched in awe as Daphne glided down the aisle beside her brother, her radiant presence captivating the room.

As they reached the altar, Anthony gently placed Daphne's hand in Simon's. Anthony had taken a seat next to Emmaline before she could fully register his presence beside her. He offered her a polite smile before turning his attention to the front.

"Dearly beloved," the bishop's voice resonated through the church, Emmaline tried to focus on the ceremony as she was determined to ignore Anthony. Though she had forgiven him, a tiny bit of resentment still lingered within her. Yet, when his hand found hers, their fingers intertwining, she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest.

"We are gathered here today..." the bishop continued, his words fading into the background as Emmaline struggled to ignore Anthony's presence beside her.

This wasn't good.

His mere touch made her want to throw out all feelings of anger. Something told her he knew this.

"It is said that marriage hath in it less of beauty, but more of safety than the single life."

Glancing at Anthony, she noticed his gentle smile and the warmth in his eyes. His gentle squeeze sent a swarm of butterflies through her stomach, melting away her lingering doubts.

"I now pronounce you man and wife."

With these words, her fingers relaxed within his grip. In that moment, as she stood beside him, she couldn't deny the strange comfort his presence brought. She felt so safe and it felt.... Just right.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

"Perhaps I can come with you," Gregory said as he held onto Daphne, his eyes shining with excitement as they walked down the stairs outside their home. "I've always wanted to live in a castle."

"If Daphne is going to take anyone with her, Gregory, it will be me!" Hyacinth rolled her eyes.

Colin and Benedict exchanged amused glances, while Eloise smirked at her siblings' antics. "The two of you are staying here until our dear sister allows us a visit," Colin declared with a mock serious tone before he embraced Daphne.

Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You mean if she allows us a visit. I'm sure you'll enjoy the peace and quiet."

Daphne smiled fondly at her siblings, "I am going to miss all of you terribly," she admitted, her voice filled with sadness.

"Even me?" Anthony asked.

Daphne turned to look at him and had a small smile. "Even you," she embraced him before asking him a question. "Have you seen Emmaline?"

Anthony shook his head, "I haven't seen her since yesterday, Daph. But I'm sure she'll turn up soon." He kissed his sister's cheeks before she said goodbyes to Eloise and his mother.

Daphne turned to Eloise, her expression softening. "I have a present for you," she said, "It's upstairs, made of four walls and a very comfortable bed."

Eloise raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I suppose the light in your room is quite pleasant."

Daphne laughed, "I know we could not be any more different," she began, her voice gentle yet resolute, "but there is one thing we do share: the certainty that you will make your own way in this world. I am sure of it, Eloise.

As Daphne made her way towards the waiting carriage, her stomach churned with nerves... She glanced back at her family, each face etched with love. It was then that she saw her running in the street towards her.

"Wait!" Emmaline cried, her voice echoing through the air. Ignoring the stares of the ton, she reached Daphne just as she was about to climb into the carriage.

Daphne immediately stepped out of the carriage. Her heart leapt with relief as she threw her arms around her best friend, holding her tight. "I was beginning to think I wouldn't get the chance to say goodbye."

Emmaline laughed breathlessly, her cheeks flushed with exertion. "As if I would let you leave without a proper farewell. Never," she said as she smiled. "You should know me better than that, Daphne," she jokingly said.

Tears pricked at the corners of Daphne's eyes as she held Emmaline close, her heart overflowing with love. "I'm going to miss you terribly," she whispered.

"I'm going to miss you too, more than you know," Emmaline whispered before she pulled away.. "Don't forget to write okay. Promise me you won't forget," she said with a sad smile.

"I won't forget, Emma. I promise."

With one final embrace, Daphne reluctantly released Emma and climbed back into the carriage. As Emmaline watched Daphne's carriage pulled away, moving more into the distance, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and excitement swirling within her heart. Daphne was closing a chapter in her life, reading to endure her next adventure. Daphne was starting her life and Emmaline didn't know if she was ready for it to be her turn.

┈ˋˏ༻❁༺ˎˊ┈

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞:
hi loves!!!!! happy 2nd anniversary of Bridgerton season 2 today!! i hope you guys enjoy the new chapter, so so so sorry it took me this long to get it out once again school has been a nightmare and I gotten sick during spring break love that for me🙃

we are so close on ending act 1 of cruel summer only 1 or 2 more chapter left until we start act 2 which im so very excited to start writing it. you might see some familiar new characters (did you guys catch it in this chapter hehehehe🤭👀) if you did its one of my best friend ocs! therefore shoutout to my favorite person in the entire planet i love you so so much @storyofanotherpaola, make sure to check out set it up by her!!! we have some really excited plans for you guys.

also CAN WE JUST TALKED ABOUT BRIDGERTON JUST DROPPING A NEW PROMO VIDEO OF KANTHONY FOR SEASON 3 TODAY FOR AND THE SEASON 2 BLOOPER REEL FOR IT 2ND ANNIVERSARY AHHHH OMG I LOVE THEM SM!!! AND THE TEASER CLIP THEY LOOK SO HAPPY UGHHH I LOVE MARRY KANTHONY they own my heart. also the little kiss in the end 🥹 again I love my parents. who else is excited for season 3!!! i know i am hehehe.

another exciting thing is CRUEL SUMMER JUST HIT 25K reads WHAT?!?!?! I still can't believe it at all and it currently at 25.9K so close to 26K. again thank you so much for all the love and support it means the world to me <3

don't forget to comment and vote loves. don't be a ghost reader and I'll see you guys in the next chapter! <3

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CRUEL SUMMER © pattyluquin, 2022