"...are you merely an older brother, or are you the man of this house?"

His mother's words echoed in his ears long after he and Sienna finished their lovemaking. The words raged a war in Anthony's head, fighting his instincts over and over again until he had a searing headache.

"You speak of responsibility, my dear son, of duty? Pray tell, what should you know of it?"

She simply didn't understand the pressure that he was under. He had to find Daphne a husband, an honorable man that would treat her right and take care of her for the rest of her life. Her happiness, her liveliness, and her future family all rested on his shoulders and he was terrified he was going to fuck it all up. Was it so wrong that he wanted the best possible match for Daphne?

Anthony thought back to what Winnifred had asked of him at dinner hours before. She had promised to surrender in her plans of matching Daphne and Hastings, but in turn, he had to consider more suitors than Lord Berbrooke. Admittingly, the man was rather ghastly in both looks and personality. It was possible that if Daphne married the man, his nieces and nephews might not have that spark that most Bridgerton offspring are said to have right from birth.

Still, he had scared off most of Daphne's eligible bachelors. Was that his fault? Maybe. Perhaps...But in his defense, if the bachelors of the Ton were good enough for Daphne, they wouldn't be afraid of him and scurry away from his sister with one hard glare. He had to think of some way to honor his sister while securing her future.

A sleepy sigh escaped Sienna's lips as she turned in his hold, bringing more of his mother's jabs to the forefront of his mind.

"...will you pay a visit to a certain soprano that you tend to in an apartment that you pay for on the other side of town?"

Even though he tried to hide it, his mother had known all along how he skirted the responsibility of marriage and continued his affair with Sienna. While he had stepped up in all other ways as Viscount, he was not ready to settle down and sire an heir, nor was he ready to confront just why he was reluctant to get married.

Maybe it was his hesitation that barred him from helping Daphne succeed in society. He could be projecting his desires on her in some weird way of protecting her.

Suddenly panic seized his heart at the thought of ruining Daphne's life. He had already scared away everyone and only Berbrooke was left with an offer of engagement. He had to fix this. He had to fix everything, just like his father would have. Even if it meant ruining his relationships.

He stroked Sienna's bare arm with the tips of his fingers as he gathered his courage. "I cannot see you anymore."

Sienna instantly sat up, his white sheets pressed to her breasts, and gave him a confused look. "I do not understand."

"It is not for you to understand," his chest ached as he looked away from her, glancing down at his signet ring until he could continue. "I must do what is necessary."

Sienna furrowed her eyebrows. "You said you would always protect me. You promised to care for me, my Lord. And now...What shall I do now?"

Anthony swallowed heavily and hardened his resolve. "You shall leave."

-

LADY WHISTLEDOWN'S SOCIETY PAPERS, 1813.

Dear reader,

Be it shame or slander, seduction or smear, there is but one thing that humbles even the most highly-regarded members of our dear Ton...a scandal! Well, dear reader, it should seem that all of Grosvenor Square has been left to ponder a rather scandalous question, indeed. Might one former diamond's recent fall from grace turn out to be the most damning scandal of all? Or will the swarm of suitors that visit her dearest friend, Winnifred Sheffield, take point? We shall see...

Never had Winnie been fortunate enough to see the beauty that was the Vauxhall Gardens until the year before, during her debut season. She fell in love with the garden, the house, and the hedged maze in the back, and had been looking forward to coming back since her departure last year.

Best of all, her papa would be escorting her to the Gardens this year, rather than Lady Bridgerton.

She was truly shocked when he announced at the breakfast table that morning that he was to escort her to Vauxhall. In the three weeks since she initially asked him about the event, he had given her no indication of his answer, which seemed to be an answer of itself. At the news, she promptly jumped to her feet and hugged her father for the first time in what seemed like years, ignoring propriety and table manners. Her father had returned the hug, though he did pat her back very awkwardly.

Though her father looked anything but happy about attending the event, he did manage a small smile for her that she took to mean that he was trying. Indeed, she was very happy with his gesture.

The boat ride across the lake to the Gardens was not a long journey, but it was not something that Winnie enjoyed. She was practically attacked by mosquitos and her father had the bright idea to share the boat with Lord Featherington and his daughters, Prudence, Phillipa, and Penelope. Penelope had truly saved the trip for Winnie. They sat next to each other, Winnie complimenting Penelope's dress at first sight, and chatted about the party. Penelope's mother had stayed home with an ill Miss Thompson, the cousin that Colin fancied, allowing Penelope to feel less stressed and more comfortable in her skin and dress.

Talking with her friend helped the trip fly by, even if she did catch quite a few bug bites, and finally they were docking at the Gardens. Vauxhall was lit up beautifully with hundreds of candles and oil lamps. Beautiful music was being played and people were scattered around in groups, chatting with companions and other members of the Ton. Already the dance floor was full with her peers, both male and female, and though Winnie was not overly fond of standing out in a crowd and she was quite clumsy on the dance floor, even she was itching to join in for a dance.

As Winnie and Thomas separated from the Featheringtons, her papa took her arm and slid it into the crook of his. "Tell me, Freddie, have there been any suitors to catch your eye?"

Winnifred beamed at him, soaking up the attention he was giving her. Her mother and father used to call her Freddie until the last day of her mother's life, and she had not been addressed as such by anyone but her baby brother since. Happiness bloomed within her heart and though his question was rather off-putting, she answered with the smile still on her lips. "No, I'm afraid not, Papa."

She did not have the strength to tell him of her desires to remain unmarried. She could not bear to disappoint him, not so soon after he called her by her beloved childhood nickname. Lord Bridgerton's words echoed through her head and she knew that her father may not accept her decision either way.

Thomas clucked his tongue disapprovingly, his dark brown eyes searching for suitable gentlemen. "We shall have to rectify that straight away," he paused, his eyes stopping on the third-eldest Bridgerton. "You are fond of Colin Bridgerton, are you not?"

"He is a dear friend," Winnifred mused, eyes gleaming mischievously as she found Colin talking to Penelope by the dance floor. She had always had a feeling that Penelope fancied Colin, and from the way the redhead was looking at him tonight, she was sure she was right. Maybe she could have another go at matchmaking since she had promised the Viscount to stop trying to get Daphne and the duke together. "but I do not like him like that, Papa."

"No matter. He is still a bit young, and I am sure we can do better for you than a third son."

Winnie grimaced. "Please, Papa, do not speak ill of Colin."

"Oh, I mean no offense to him. I quite enjoy Colin, truly. However, we do not know his situation. He, as the third son of the late Viscount, bless him, is expected to have less responsibilities than Lord Bridgerton."

Winnifred sighed when she saw that her father's face had lit up at the mention of Lord Bridgerton. She already knew that he thought that they would be a wonderful match; if only he knew the Viscount as she did... "How about we skip the mention of the Bridgerton boys for now, Papa? Surely you know someone else."

"Indeed, I do. Come," Thomas started leading her to a small group of people. "I shall have to introduce you to Lord White and his first son. I believe his name to be Ivan..."

Lord White's son's name was not Ivan, as it turned out, but Isaac and to Winnie's dismay, she was forced to allow him her first dance of the night. Isaac was attractive, no doubt, but utterly dull. She found him to be a wonderful dancer, however, and she had a good time with him on the dance floor, especially when Colin and Penelope joined in next to them.

After the dance was over, Isaac escorted her back to Thomas and left with a kiss on the hand, causing her face to heat up. She avoided her papa's smile, her eyes falling on Sir Beckett, the friend of Anthony's that she enjoyed her short time with the night of the Danbury Ball. Sir Beckett seemed to be already making his way to them, so she gave him a kind smile and waited as he spoke to her father.

"Lord Sheffield, it's wonderful to see you," Sir Beckett shook Thomas' hand in greeting. "Miss Sheffield, you look stunning tonight."

"Good evening, Beckett," her father greeted him while Winnie bowed her head graciously. "and how is your father doing lately?"

"Rather ill, I'm afraid," to Winnie, it seemed like speaking of Lord Beckett was truly discomforting to his son. A sour relationship, perhaps? "I was wondering, sir, if you would allow me to ask your daughter for a dance?"

Thomas nodded and they both turned to Winnie.

Sir Beckett held out his hand with a polite smile. "Miss Winnifred, would you do me the honor?"

"Of course."

Through the silk fabric of Winnie's gloves, she could feel the rough calluses on Sir Beckett's hand, making her ponder the cause. However, as they took to the dance floor and the orchestra played a slower melody, her thoughts shifted to the music and the proper dance moves that accompanied it.

"You are a wonderful dancer," Sir Beckett complimented her just as he stepped on the toes of her left foot. "I'm ghastly, I'm afraid. I apologize."

"In all actuality, I'm rather horrid on the dance floor," Winnie confessed with a laugh as he stepped off of her foot, hardly feeling a thing. "You are making me look better than I truly am."

"Well then, I am honored to help you out on that front," Sir Beckett grinned. "So, you are a bad dancer, we clearly have that in common...What else do you enjoy? Do you have hobbies?"

Winnie raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Do you think I'm dull, Sir?"

She enjoyed the panicked look on his face when he thought he offended her.

"No, of course not! I was—I'm trying to get to know you."

"In that case, I enjoy gardening and drawing. Reading is always something that I dabble in, especially if I am not busy with my brother. And I like clothes."

"Clothes?" Sir Beckett inquired, wondering if there was more to her answer. "Do you like shopping at the market, or are you fond of designing your own clothing?"

Winnie was admittedly shocked to see Sir Beckett's nonjudgmental face as he prodded deeper into her life. "I like designing," she admitted in a whisper. "I do most of my own gowns."

Sir Beckett smiled brightly, impressed. "You should be very proud of yourself, Miss Sheffield. You are very talented indeed."

"Thank you, sir. And what about you? Any hobbies or secret talents?"

"I've been playing the violin since I was a child," he told her. "I adore it, actually, and wish that I could pursue it full time. It seems we both are being forced into futures that we do not want, Miss Sheffield."

Winnie inhaled sharply at his words, at what he was insinuating. It seemed that Sir Beckett saw right through her, just as clearly as she saw him.

"Winnie," she corrected him in a raspy voice, oddly emotional. She supposed it was because he got it, he really understood her. "We are dear friends, so you may call me Winnie."

Sir Beckett's smile was truly beautiful, especially when it was fully genuine. "You must call me Sloane then, if we are to be friends."

All too soon, as they rather enjoyed whispering about their secret passions to one another, the song ended, as did their dance. She was glad to have found a friend like Sloane, especially when nothing else about this season seemed to be going right.

Before Winnie and Sir Beckett could separate, one of the butlers called for everyone's attention. It seemed that the Gardens had undergone a recent transformation to include electricity and they were kind enough to demonstrate it for the party that night.

"Ladies and gentlemen, a most extraordinary event is about to take place. It is with great privilege that I present Vauxhall's newest spectacle of illumination!" sparks started to fly on the pole he stood by and Winnie watched in fascination. "Feast your eyes above and allow all that is radiant to overwhelm you!"

Slowly, the lanterns stringed above their heads started to light up row by row until they all shone brightly. Winnie gasped in admiration, eyes wide as she took in the absolute beauty before her. She had never seen anything so special in her life. She was part of history in the making.

"How beautiful!"

"Truly, it is!" Sloane agreed with her, his brown eyes gleaming in the lights.

Winnie slowly lowered her head to look away from the lights; as amazing and beautiful as they were, looking at them for too long hurt her eyes. "Isn't it extraordinary how many things we find beauty in? Amazing..."

She trailed off when she saw the scene in front of her, only a few feet away Daphne and Lord Bridgerton were arguing. She could not see Lord Bridgerton's face, but Daphne looked distraught and angry. At first, Winnie resolved to keep out of their business—a feat for her, as she was very nosy at times—but when she saw Daphne storm away from her eldest brother, she could not hold back.

"Excuse me, Sir Beckett."

Sloane's eyes seemed to laugh knowingly when he followed her gaze and saw the Viscount. "Of course. Good evening Winnie. I hope to see you again."

Winnie bid him a goodbye, promising that they would see each other again, and quickly marched the short way to Lord Bridgerton. He turned to her when she was only a few feet away and she saw his lips move as he spoke a word that would be too impolite for her, had she been able to hear it, when he saw her approach.

"Lord Bridgerton!"

"Do not even start, Winnifred," Anthony sighed deeply. He really did not need Winnifred Sheffield to dress him down for the decision he had made for his sister.

Winnie huffed. "Start what? I was just going to ask what had Daphne storming away?"

"It is none of your concern."

"That may be," she conceded. "But still, I am concerned. Daphne is one of my greatest friends, and I feel for her as I would a sister. Perhaps, if you would tell me what upset her, I can offer my help."

Anthony pressed his lips together. "I doubt that even you could make her happy about this."

The pleasant smile that had developed on Winnie's face as she tried to get Lord Bridgerton to spill his secrets fell. From the tone of his voice and the furious way Daphne looked as she stormed off the dance floor, she knew that this was something of his doing.

"What did you do, my Lord?"

"And may I ask why you think that I did something?" Anthony's hackles raised as he hissed at her. Somehow, even though he did not want to tell her, he ended up confessing his distress, "I did as any brother would do in my position. It is Daphne that does not like my decision, but it was the best that I could offer her. Lord Berbrooke will be a fine husband—"

Winnie immediately interrupted him at the mention of Lord Berbrooke. "Oh, Anthony," she groaned, the sound full of anger—on Daphne's behalf—and embarrassment—on his behalf. "Please tell me you did not."

"He was the only one asking for her hand!" Anthony defended himself staunchly, brown eyes wide and serious. "I was securing her future."

"A dismal future," Winnie shot back at him. "You pushed away any suitable gentlemen and that is the only reason Lord Berbrooke has presented the sole proposal."

Anthony huffed and lowered his chin. "I admit that I may have been too harsh, but I'm trying to make up for that now. Lord Berbrooke and Daphne are a fine match. I've seen far worse in my years."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. For the first time ever, she pitied Daphne for having a large family and a brother who was too involved in her life.

"Oh, please, do not lie to yourself," Winnie demanded angrily. "Berbrooke is vile."

"Be that as it may, this is none of your business."

Before Winnie could retort, Thomas walked up to them. Both Winnie and Anthony halted their argument before he would notice. Anthony couldn't bear the thought of Lord Sheffield looking down on him, and Winnie, herself, didn't want to encourage any of her papa's thoughts on the subject of her and Lord Bridgerton.

"Lord Bridgerton," Thomas greeted Anthony with a smile. "I've been looking for you. How have you been?"

"I've been great, thank you, Lord Sheffield," Anthony lied politely, shaking Thomas' hand. He did quite like the older gentleman. He had been his father's closest friend before he died and both him and his late wife had been very helpful while he and his family had been grieving. "And you?"

"Tired, I'm afraid," Thomas chuckled and glanced at Winnie, who gave him a small smile. "It's been a long time since I've attended a party such as this."

"Well, we are glad for your presence, of course," Anthony nodded, lowering his chin in respect.

"Thank you," Thomas stole another look at Winnie, who pretended to be people-watching. "I believe Freddie and I may have to take our leave soon. However, I was hoping you could fill the last spot on her dance card?"

Winnie blanched and looked at her father in shock. She couldn't believe that he was doing this. Asking a man, Lord Bridgerton, of all people, to dance with her! As if she couldn't ask someone herself. As if no one wanted to ask her to dance! She was rather offended by her father's lack of faith. Just because she did not want to marry did not mean that men did not find her attractive or deemed her acceptable company.

Anthony's shocked eyes met hers for a moment, and in a second he could see the indignation she felt. It rather amused him, and though he would rather drown himself in the bar than dance with Winnifred Sheffield, he found himself agreeing.

"Of course. Miss Winnifred?" he held out his hand for her, smirking when he saw the disdained look on her face.

Winnie took his hand, ignoring how warm he was and how oddly right their hands fit together. They stepped away from Thomas to take to the dance floor but before they could take their places, Anthony stopped in his tracks.

When Winnie looked to see what had stopped him, her mouth fell open in shock. Daphne and the Duke of Hastings were walking hand-in-hand to the dance floor, all eyes following them. As they took their places in order to dance, Winnie couldn't help but smile.

She turned to Anthony, a gleam in her eyes. "Are you quite sure the Duke does not wish to marry?"