The Bridgerton Eight

Treating You Horribly Because I'm So Kind

Thursday—November 26th, 2020

Night of Lady Danbury's Thanksgiving Bash, 6pm

Hyacinth couldn't believe Lady Danbury had actually invited the Smythe-Smith sisters to play at her party. Again.

"Why do we pretend they're good at this?" she wondered aloud, about ten minutes after Freddie Mercury began to rotate in his grave. She should've gone to a real party; Francesca had. But no, Hyacinth had chosen to stay faithful to her friend, the old hag. 

"Because we are good, kind people," her sister Eloise answered. She didn't look like she was having a good time either. Knowing Eloise, she would much rather have stayed home with a book, drinking rosé. 

"One would think," Hyacinth persisted, "that the kind thing would be to stop them from embarrassing themselves year after year. Or maybe—"

"Hyacinth?" Eloise said.

Hyacinth swung her gaze to her sister, lifting one brow in question.

"Let it go, alright? Enjoy the show."

"I physically cannot."

"Hyacinth."

Hyacinth sighed and rolled her eyes, but she complied. Thankfully, she only had to go through this once a year, because Hyacinth was quite certain it would take a full twelve months for her ears to recover. She let out another sigh, this one louder than the last. "I'm not sure I'm either good or kind."

"I'm not sure, either," Eloise replied, "but I have faith in you."

"How good and kind of you," Hyacinth teased.

"I thought so, too."

I'm going to go deaf, she thought, as she watched the scene unfolding on the small, makeshift stage. Another year, another opportunity to learn just how many ways one could ruin a perfectly good piece of music.

"The Bridgerton sisters," Lady Danbury said, or rather barked, from behind them, making the two sisters jump.

"Oh, good evening, Lady Danbury," Eloise said to the elderly woman.

"We were just commenting on how good and kind you are, Emerauld," Hyacinth said, causing Lady D to narrow her eyes, "always remembering to include the Smythe-Smith. How you think of others."

"Ha," Lady Danbury said. It was, Hyacinth reflected, her favorite syllable. That and hmmmph. "If I were good or kind I would've spared us all this torture, wouldn't I?"

"One would hope," Hyacinth replied.

"And I might add," she said with a sniff, "that you were most unkind last week, leaving off with poor Priscilla hanging from a cliff." Hyacinth visited Lady D regularly these days and often read to her. Nothing substantial really—just ridiculous books they could make fun of together. Like Fifty Shades of Grey and other embarrassing stuff.

"It's where the author ended the chapter," Hyacinth said unrepentantly, "and besides, isn't patience a virtue?"

"Absolutely not," Lady Danbury said emphatically, "and if you think so, you're less smart than I thought."

No one understood why Hyacinth visited Lady Danbury, but she enjoyed her afternoons with the woman. Lady Danbury was crotchety and honest to a fault, and Hyacinth adored her.

"The two of you together are a menace," Eloise remarked.

"My aim in life," Lady Danbury announced, "is to be a menace to as great a number of people as possible, so I'll take that as a compliment, Miss Bridgerton."