chapter nine: nobody likes a secret

❦

   It was all getting too much.

   Too, too much.

   The wedding of the century was what they were all calling it. Wherever Charlotte Wentworth went, it was all she heard. How lovely her sister and Viscount Bridgerton looked together. How they all knew from the start the two were meant to be. How excited they were for the wedding. And every time someone would pass her on the street and congratulate the sister of the bride, Charlotte was forced to take it tongue in cheek. Meanwhile she was trying her hardest not to vomit.

   Everything that could have gone wrong within the last 48 hours had gone wrong for the young woman. Her sister was now officially getting married to the man she had complicated feelings for, she was lying to everyone she knew about a plethora of things, and she still had to look over her shoulder to make sure William was not standing over her with a weapon of his choosing to either kill her or bring her back to France against her will.

Oh, and did she mention she was now going through her monthly courses?

   Wringing her hands together, Charlotte continued to pace back and forth uncontrollably outside the room where her siblings currently resided in, along with Lady Danbury and the Queen. She was one room away from Queen Charlotte. The woman she was named after. Her sister was the diamond of the season, and the Queen of England wanted complete knowledge on her wedding. And Charlotte was forced to watch from the sidelines.

Besides the obvious change of pace that had her head spinning, Charlotte was having her own internal battle with herself. She was trying not to let her own secrets consume her. However, as the time ticked away in her head, it was getting increasingly difficult to fight them off.

Therefore, when Charlotte expresses it was becoming too much for her, she meant that in every way possible. So much, in fact, she was starting to feel it physically. Every few seconds she would have to swallow the bile that would arise from the depths of her throat. Along with having to remind herself to breathe after the few short breaths she graced herself. And as she continuously paced, she began to grow dizzy, her sight going in and out drastically.

Charlotte took hold of the arm of the sofa beside her as leverage to help her sit, just as someone took hold of her other hand, much to her surprise. The young woman snapped her head up only to meet dark brown hues she had been trying to keep out of her mind. She had no time to grasp why or how he was in front of her at the moment, but if she were being honest, she did not care.

Anthony Bridgerton was running late for his meeting with the Queen. A meeting to discuss his wedding that she, herself wanted to be in the loop of because he proposed to her diamond. Though it all seemed superficial for most, it was exactly what he wanted. An arrangement without much feeling, so neatly tied into a bow it almost looked too good to be true. And with everything to do to prepare for such an arrangement, it distracted him from falling into all things Charlotte Wentworth.

Until he walked into the tea room and saw how unsteady she was on her feet.

In the blink of an eye, the viscount was by her side, just as she sat herself on the sofa rather shakily. And by her startled features, she was just as shocked as he was at his actions.

Their position was scandalous—their actions reckless.

There he was, Lord Bridgerton knelt on the floor on one knee, his hand gently caressing the bare hand of Charlotte Wentworth as she sat before him looking flush, breathless. If anyone looked upon them none the wiser, questions would arise without a second to waste.

   The only sound between them that could be heard was the young woman's shallow breathing, but with every passing moment, that breathing was slowly beginning to settle. And though the two did not attempt to communicate with words, wary of listening ears around them, their connected eyes were enough for them.

   Are you...? He raised a brow with the unspoken question, his fingers still playing with hers unconsciously.

   Yes. She settled with after a short moment, nodding with a long and steady breath. Charlotte gave his hand a squeeze before letting his grasp go, allowing him to stand and enter the room he was originally supposed to enter in the first place.

After a beat, Charlotte composed herself enough to walk into the parlor where everyone was seated just in time to watch the viscount greet her sister with a kiss on her hand. She sighed deeply as Lady Danbury gave her a knowing look without anyone else noticing. Nevertheless, she took her seat next to Daniel, evading any wandering gazes that might follow her movements.

"Now," the Queen started once everyone was seated, "tell me of your wedding plan. There is no talk of a special license, I would hope."

The future newly-weds chuckled at the assumption as Daniel shook his head feverishly, "of course not, Your Majesty."

"I believe a modest family affair would be most fitting," the viscount chimed in, "perhaps back in the country, at Aubrey Hall."

"In the country," the Queen questioned before laughing herself at the audacious suggestion, "no, that will not do. You must have it here in town. In fact, I shall host the nuptials myself."

As those around her expressed their gratitude, Charlotte could feel herself growing warm again, lightly clearing her throat that suddenly went stark dry.

"That is most generous, ma'am," Lord Bridgerton nodded, wringing his hands together like someone else was doing a bit ago, "but not at all necessary."

Queen Charlotte smirked at appreciation but humbly obliged, though her ulterior motives to catch Lady Whistledown were plain as day, "Nonsense. She is my diamond, after all. It is only right that I give you both a wedding worth of that title. Besides, one could almost credit me myself with bringing about this most illustrious match."

Amelia was nearly beaming with excitement, "can you believe it, Lottie? It is like a fairytale come true."

"You deserve nothing less, Lia," Charlotte gave her sister the best smile she could produce, though she felt if she opened her mouth again, she would scream.

Queen Charlotte hummed in agreement, "nothing less for a true love match."

The older Wentworth daughter had no choice but to clear her throat louder than before, which made the Queen of England turn to her with a glare at the sudden interruption, "my apologies, Your Majesty."

It was going to be a long month.

❦

   Was it petty of Charlotte to ditch her siblings at Madame Delacroix's shop mid wedding dress try-on? Sure. Was Daniel going to have her head when he and Amelia got back from the modiste? Possibly. Did she care at the present moment? Not one bit. The walls of the dress shop were closing in on her every passing second Charlotte stayed there. Listening to Amelia talk of her future with the viscount. Honeymoon. Children. Visits. Charlotte tried to smile and nod along the best she could, but she took the cowardly way out and told her siblings she forgot to take Angel out for a walk before they left and had to attend to her at once, prompting her immediate departure and return back to the Danbury Manor.

Making her way up to the second floor, Charlotte did a double take when passing a room she could not help but notice was occupied for a reason she did not know the reason for. Stepping into the room cautiously, the young woman was surprised to see not only her sister's betrothed, but another man she was not familiar with in the room standing along with him.

   "Lord Bridgerton?"

   "Miss Wentworth," the viscount bowed his head in greeting, though he looked as though he was expecting someone else.

   A footman appeared by Charlotte's side breathless, "Lord Bridgerton and his guest are waiting."

   Charlotte scoffed at the delayed news, "I see that. Thank you."

   "This is the jeweler," Lord Bridgerton motioned to the gentleman beside him, "we are here to have Miss Amelia's betrothal ring altered to fit."

   Chuckling softly at the predicament presenting itself to her, Charlotte let her gloves drop against the back of the chair, "my apologies, but my siblings have not yet returned home."

"Of course. Then we shall trouble you no further," Lord Bridgerton signaled for the jeweler to follow his lead in exiting, but the man had other ideas.

"Is that cake?"

Charlotte blinked, "it is indeed."

"Lemon?"

"Pardon?"

"I fancy a good lemon..."

As the jeweler chuckled to himself, the Wentworth sighed, knowing what she was going to have to do, though she certainly had no desire to entertain the idea of these people being in the Danbury Manor any longer than they should be. Charlotte lightened her tone, "might I offer you some refreshment, Mr..."

"Brookes. Only if you insist. I mean, it would be churlish to refuse," the man then turned his attention to the footman next to the young woman without a care in the world, "tea, three spoons of sugar, and perhaps some sandwiches too, thank you."

As Mr. Brookes went to help himself, Charlotte could have sworn she felt her eye twitch with utter disdain to what she just witnessed. There was nothing she hated more than someone treating someone like a lesser due to status or class difference.

After sending the footman an apologetic glance, she gave him a reluctant nod of permission to have him get started with the tasks that followed as she took it upon herself to have a seat across from the jeweler, across the room from a pacing Viscount Bridgerton. It was at this moment she wished her excuse of needing to take Angel for a walk was true so she could remove herself from this situation entirely, but she knew there was no way the viscount would be able to not see past her lie.

Charlotte tried her absolute best not to look at him, though his incessant pacing was putting her on edge. She really could not comprehend why the universe kept putting her in situations such as these.

It was only moments later did the viscount break the thick silence weighing down the room, "it is fine weather we are having, Miss Wentworth, is it not?"

   The young woman swore her eye twitched in irritation, once again, "you wish to speak to me of the weather?"

   "Is there another topic of conversation that'd be more appropriate?"

   Charlotte exhaled sharply, getting up from her seat to approach him hastily, "there is nothing appropriate about what you're doing proceeding with this engagement."

"On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all," the viscount took a step toward her, knowing their voices could not carry to outside ears.

Charlotte followed with her own step forward, "oh. And what if everything that passed between us at Aubrey Hall?"

Lord Bridgerton took a visible deep breath before proceeding to answer, "nothing passed between us. I am a gentleman."

"Is that so," the Wentworth narrowed her eyes, "then what about what transpired yesterday, my lord? In the tearoom? Was that you being a gentleman?"

"Precisely," he answered without hesitation, his eyes boring into hers, "I saw a lady in distress, unsteady on her feet so I helped her until she was well. If I may, as the gentleman I am, are you well, Miss Wentworth? Or do I need to bring what happened before I caught you to your brother's attention?"

Charlotte rolled her lips between her teeth in sheer annoyance at his tease of power, pure blackmail lacing his words. She could only guess he did not give a damn about her true well being—he just wanted to stir up trouble. Only because he could.

"I am perfectly fine, sir," she answered harshly, before getting back on track, "and need I remind you, if anyone other than your sister discovered us in the library that night, or the tearoom yesterday, we, too, would be obliged to wed."

"Nothing happened," Lord Bridgerton repeated, and though he reiterated for her, it sounded as though he was doing it for himself as well, "would the two of us being obliged to marry be the outcome you desire?"

"Of course not."

"Then let us be... glad we have avoided such an unthinkable fate."

   And such an unthinkable fate it would be, indeed. To have her entire world turned upside down, having to marry a man she caters such indescribable feelings for while still chasing away such closeted demons she had yet to face head on. One could only take so much in their lifetime.

Before Charlotte had anytime to even think of a rebuttal, Mr Brookes took his attentions away from his cake, "I say, Miss Wentworth, do you and your sister happen to share gloves?"

Charlotte blanched at the odd question, "I—yes, on occasion."

"I knew it," Mr. Brookes nodded in delight to himself before getting up from his seat, "I can take the measure of a hand at 20 paces. We may use your finger to size the ring."

"Oh, I beg your pardon—"

"That shan't be necessary."

The jeweler ignored the two with a chuckle and a wave of a hand, looking to the viscount expectantly, "nonsense!"

Lord Bridgerton had no other choice than to pick up the box the ring was resting inside of, handing it to the jeweler. He held his breath as he watched Mr. Brookes picked up Miss Wentworth's bare, delicate hand and slid the piece of jewelry on her ring finger without problem. A perfect fit. Just as the jeweler suspected. However, what the viscount didn't know was Charlotte was having a difficult time finding her own breath as well.

This was the first time the young woman had a ring on her finger since she was betrothed to William. Even as Mr. Brookes let go of her hand and left to write down the measurements, she kept her hand in its held up position, staring down at it.

   "It is a beautiful piece," Charlotte observed softly, ignoring how his eyes were trained on her. The only thing her eyes could seem to keep their gaze on, is the ring on her finger. It had been so long since there had been a ring accompanying that finger. It almost made her miss it.

   Almost.

   Not being able to control himself, it seemed, Lord Bridgerton stepped even closer, taking her hand in his, caressing the ring with the pad of his thumb, and with it, the soft skin of her finger, "it is the ring my father gave to my mother before they were wed."

   A shaken exhale escaped her lips at the information, understanding the significance of what she had on. Something so important to him—so sacred. Full of history, belonging, love. Nothing like the ring she used to grace her fingers with. It was all so different.

   Lord Bridgerton watched the young woman before him, his brow furrowing with concern, "Miss Wentworth—"

   "Sister, we're home!"

   The sound of Amelia's ecstatic voice echoing through the hall and into the room caused the two to separate in a flash. Almost as if they were ever near each other at all. It was just in time too. For when Amelia and Daniel entered the room, they were confused to see the viscount's presence all together.

"Lord Bridgerton?"

Charlotte chuckled, albeit nervously, but masked it as excitement due to the circumstances of his visit, "they came to, uh, alter the ring."

   "Uh, Mr. Brookes insisted," the viscount added as Charlotte made her way to the opposite side of the room.

   As if this entire exchange could be any more painful, for some reason, the ring would not come off her finger. So much for a perfect fit. The young woman sighed sharply, tugging at the piece of jewelry, "just a moment. It appears to be stuck."

   "Well, Amelia is here now."

   Charlotte gave Daniel a deathly glare, "yes, I see that brother, give me a moment," after a few more tugs, paired with grunts that filled the awkward silence of the room, she succeeded in getting the ring off her finger, handing it to its rightful owner, "there. All yours."

   The ring was passed off right as Lady Danbury entered the room and addressed everyone, "ah. Here you all are. I have news. Lord and Lady Blakewood sent word they are in London."

"Our grandparents," Amelia asked in intrigued delight, the complete opposite of her siblings.

"Indeed. It seems they read the engagement announcement and wish to make your acquaintance," Lady Danbury then gestured to the viscount beside her, "and uh, that of your future husband, of course."

Lord Bridgerton gave a casual nod, "I shall be delighted to meet them."

Glancing warily at his younger sister, Daniel walked forward, taking the letter from the older woman's grasp, "they are already in town?"

"They arrived... last night."

The viscount could not help but observe the exchange between Lady Danbury and Mr. Wentworth, then move his curious gaze to the once talkative Miss Wentworth, who seemed to have grown quite pale and in her own thoughts, looking to the ground as if it were the most interesting sight she had ever seen in her lifetime.

He furrowed his brow, "is something wrong?"

"Not at all," Lady Danbury reassured him, "I shall invite them to the engagement dinner tomorrow. I'm sure it will be a most joyous reunion after all these years. Yes, Miss Wentworth?"

Charlotte snapped her head up from her ground induced gaze to witness everyone's eyes watching her every move. She had not realized she was showing so much weakness in one moment. She gave them her best close lipped smile, "indeed."

"Hmm. I shall look forward to it," Lord Bridgerton gave a final nod to the idea before gesturing to Amelia, "are you ready to promenade?"

"I am, my lord."

As the pair started walking, Charlotte's words tumbled from her lips before her mind could tell her to stop, "I, uh, I suddenly don't feel very well."

Daniel took a cautious step toward her, only for her to take one away from him. He sighed, knowing fully well what was going on, "Lady Danbury, would you be so kind as to chaperone my dear sisters? I have some paperwork to catch up on."

"Of course," the older woman obliged instantly, "Miss Wentworth and I would be glad of the fresh air. I'm sure that is exactly what she needs to start to feel better."

Charlotte shook her head in disagreement, her usual fight she carried with her withering away, "oh, I should really stay with Daniel—"

"You will escort me."

Charlotte swallowed harshly at the pointed look the older woman gave her. No one could say no to Lady Danbury, and she was certainly not going to be the first.

❦

The betrothed couple, Charlotte and Lady Danbury all made their way to the local fair that was happening in town. Charlotte had to admit to herself, the event looked quite fun, and she would have participated if she did not feel like she had the weight of the world resting on her shoulders.

   As Amelia and Lord Bridgerton walked arm and arm ahead of her, Charlotte walked with her arm looped with Lady Danbury's, who placed her arm there in the first place, much to the younger woman's surprise. Charlotte reminded herself internally to thank her lucky stars each morning that Lady Danbury and her late mother were close friends back in the day. She felt as though they shared a bond she had not felt with another adult in a long time. It felt nice.

What did not feel nice, however, was feeling as though Lady Danbury was backing her into a corner with her decision of inviting the very people who could expose everything Charlotte tried to hide for so long.

"How could you invite the Blakewoods to dinner when you know full well Amelia is clueless to everything happening around her," Charlotte did not sugarcoat the start of their much needed conversation, "you know how they reacted to us leaving France. They want nothing to do with me."

Lady Danbury hummed, keeping her gaze front, "indeed. Which is why I shall not answer their impoliteness with my own. And besides, is this not the reconciliation you wished for? Amelia returned to the bosom of the Blakewood family to reclaim the status you so desperately want for her?"

"Yes, but not until after the wedding," the young woman answered pointedly, "Lia is still very much in the dark about why we truly left France in such a hurry. And if the Bridgerton's were to learn of it, they might feel—"

"As if you contrived a match for your own concealed ends and might call off the wedding," the pair stopped walking at Lady Danbury's accusation, letting it hang in the air, "I have to wonder if you might secretly rejoice were the viscount to break the engagement."

   Charlotte frowned deeply, hurt by the older woman's thought of her motives, "you would think that low of me? Why would you ever say such a thing?"

Lady Danbury matched the young woman's expression, grabbing the hand tucked into her elbow, "they are betrothed, Charlotte. The viscount made a charming proposal, your sister gave her giddy acceptance, and in the eyes of society, and, might I add, the Queen of England herself, they are as good as wed. Only a great scandal would prevent this marriage from proceeding now. The kind of scandal that would send alarms through the entire ton and be a stain from which the Wentworth family would never recover. Only a fool would jeopardize the marriage now. So I ask you, my dear, the splitting image of your mother, are you that fool?"

"... No."

Though Charlotte knew she was. In every sense of the word, she was a complete, and utter fool.

"I did not think so."

"Lady Danbury."

The older woman's frown turned completely upside down at the sight of the man in front of her, greeting him pleasantly, "Mr. Dorset."

Mr. Dorset bowed respectfully, peaking a glance at the certain Wentworth next to the Lady, "what a pleasure it is to see you here today. Miss Wentworth, perhaps you would be so kind as to accompany me on a turn around the lake?"

Charlotte gave him an apologetic smile, "forgive me, Mr. Dorset, for I am not feeling very well and—"

"She would be delighted."

The young woman gave her motherly figure a look of silent betrayal as she walked away, leaving her no choice but to entertain a conversation with the man in front of her. A man who she did not forget played a part in tricking her, along with the viscount she was trying to keep her mind off of.

"You are still angry with me over that business at the races," Mr. Dorset observed, not asked, which was an important fact to note, "I wish to apologize and throw myself at your mercy."

Charlotte must admit, being in the company of a man who could actually stand her presence for a bit sounded quite nice. Her gaze softened as she nodded just the same, "very well, my lord. A turn would be most pleasant. I'm sure we have much to discuss as to how French medicine is much more advanced than London's."

   That was the first of many laughs that bellowed from Mr. Dorset's lips.

It was easy to say that Mr. Dorset was an upstanding, good man. He listened to Charlotte when she talked, made her laugh, asked her questions and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. She was surprised with herself when she even took off her gloves after he helped her get into the boat and they started their float around. It was interesting to hear of his travels and experiences, what he learned and what he already knew going in. The only other person she heard anything about that was Colin Bridgerton. The laps around the water were easy, relaxed, even a bit fun.

The same could not be said for how Anthony Bridgerton was feeling.

From the moment he saw Mr. Dorset approach Miss Wentworth and Lady Danbury from the corner of his eye, he could not look away. His hardened gaze followed every step she took with her arm looped in his, every mere touch of their sides brushing together as they walked past him and toward the boats, every time her lips would part to speak or laugh. Every blink, every twitch of her brow, every tick of the corner of her lip, every tilt of her head, every time the sun hit her skin just right.

The viscount felt as if his own skin were on fire, his ears ringing as everything was muffled around him. The only sound registering was the echo of her laugh and her sweet smile. He could feel his hands tighten around themselves behind his back as he tried to control himself, but nothing seemed to work. Charlotte Wentworth had no idea what she was doing to him. He had no inkling himself. All he did know, however, he did not like what he was watching. Not one bloody bit.

   Meanwhile, Charlotte was abiding her time enjoying not only her company, but the elements around her. She stroked the water beneath her absentmindedly, "it is most refreshing, the water. These days, it is hard to find even a moment of peace."

"One of the things I enjoyed most when I visited France," Mr. Dorset shared as he rowed their boat, "many think it a bustling, noisy place, but I found the country most tranquil in nature."

Charlotte smiled as she reminisced, "there's a river just outside the home where I grew up. On hot days, I would sneak away to soak my feet. The turtles and I became quite good friends, though I don't think my mama appreciated the water tracks I would leave behind when I came back and the bottom of my dresses were soaked."

"Sounds idyllic."

"It is," the young woman nodded, her smile slowly fading as her next thought came to mind, "which is why I'm counting the days until I may return home."

Mr. Dorset titled his head inquisitively at the new information, "I had assumed you would remain in England now that your sister is to be viscountess."

   "My siblings will remain here. I shall journey back alone."

   Though disappointed, the man across from her could not hide his intrigue, "an adventure, indeed. You have plans for your arrival?"

   "I shall teach, perhaps," Charlotte perked in her seat at the thought. She did miss all the children bustling around her own ton, "or volunteer at the shelters my mama used to take me to before she passed. She always taught me to give back to those who are in need. It will be most fulfilling. Living in a home I know well, the home I grew up in."

   "And perhaps playing host to old friends," Mr. Dorset raised a teasing brow as he offered the idea, "I've long thought to return to France myself since there is much to be learned from their medical practice."

   The pair shared another laugh, one that was inevitable due to their running joke. A laugh that made a certain viscount's skin sear heatedly. His attention was not caught away from anything but the pair sharing the boat, it was all he could focus on, nothing else. It was maddening.

   Charlotte fiddled with her thin gloves, coming down from her chuckle, "well, if your travels do lead you there, then I would be most happy to show you the places I know."

   Soon it was their turn to come back to the dock. The pair continued on with their light conversation, which did not go unnoticed by prying eyes. Mr. Dorset had just finished telling a horrible joke about a fisherman and a knot that barely made sense by the name her sister and her betrothed made it to them just as the man finished tying the boat off for easy departure.

"I see you are smiling, Lottie," Amelia couldn't help but observe with a slight tease, "see the amusements London has to offer?"

Charlotte gave her a pointed stare, "there's water, too, in France, Lia. My sister spares no opportunity to find reasons for me to stay."

Mr. Dorset shrugged at the information, "I may well join her in her endeavors."

"That knot will never hold."

Lord Bridgerton found no amusement in the conversation at hand, finding something, anything, to interrupt it. And he did. Crouching in front of the knot, he took matters into his own hands, despite his friend's disagreement.

"It is perfectly adequate," Mr. Dorset gave the viscount a look of disapproval.

"Then I must question your nautical skills, Dorset," the viscount almost smirked as he bested his old friend, taking a quick glance at the young woman who was watching the exchange, "allow me."

After rolling his eyes, Mr. Dorset climbed out of the boat, offering a hand to Charlotte, but was quickly replaced by the same man he was just bested by. And for some reason, all Charlotte could do was stare at him and his waiting hand. Many questions suddenly went through her head. Why was he acting this all of a sudden? Was this a game to him?

"Miss Wentworth."

"Lord Bridgerton."

After another moment, she took his hand and let him pull her off the boat. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from his grasp, the viscount only tightened his grasp, as though he had been longing for it. Little did she know, that was exactly the case.

Since seeing Charlotte with Mr. Dorset for so long, all Anthony wanted to do was get his hands on her one way or another, and he finally did. Until she pulled away from him, that is.

It was a chain reaction, as they called it. As soon as Charlotte remember where they were and who was around them, she snatched her hand back, sending the viscount's body back with a sudden force, tripping his body over Angel, who had been receiving a treat from Amelia, straight into Mr. Dorset, and plunged right into the water with a splash heard throughout the entire field.

The two men surfaced with fitful exclamations as Charlotte and Amelia found it hard to hold themselves together. The younger of the two women covered her mouth slightly, "oh my! Are you hurt?"

"Not at all," Mr. Dorset answered with a laugh, though the question was aimed toward the viscount, who started to shred the multiple thick layers of clothing, "the water is a rather welcoming refreshment, is it not, Bridgerton?"

The viscount did not answer, however, still seething, and still sopping wet. Factors the two Wentworth's took notice of. First it was his suit jacket, then his suspenders, then his tie. Leaving Anthony Bridgerton in only his now see through, white button down shirt and soaking-wet physique.

"Refreshing indeed."

Charlotte looked down at her sister incredulously, elbowing her softly, "come now. It is not proper to stare."

But Amelia was not paying attention or listening to such scoldings. And it was not like she was any better. For as soon as Lord Bridgerton lifted himself out of the water, she too found it hard to keep her eyes off of him.

   Very hard, indeed.

❦

peace & love—comment & vote <3
edited: june 2024