𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

duties and obligations.

It had been quite a while since Charlotte's chat with William, and she tried desperately to forget about the whole fiasco. She and Anthony had gotten much closer in that time; in fact, the pair had almost gotten caught by the Viscountess, which left Charlotte truly mortified.

It was now a Sunday afternoon, and Charlotte decided to have a nap. The young Hamilton girl only got about half an hour's peace before she was rudely interrupted.

"Charlotte," a voice whispered. A light poke to her head followed, but Charlotte just flipped over and pulled the covers over her head.

"Lottie," another voice called, this time accompanied by a more aggressive prod to her head. Charlotte jumped up in pain and held her head, glaring at the culprits: Francis and Benedict.

"Just the two fools I longed to see," she mumbled sarcastically. Benedict raised an eyebrow, and Francis just beamed. Although she found the pair incredibly irritating, they were like her partners in crime, and she wouldn't have it any other way. "So, you are here because?" she asked, stepping down from her bed and refusing both men's hands.

Benedict sighed. "He knows." Charlotte raised an eyebrow and looked at Francis, who looked like a boy who had just received a new toy at Christmas.

"He knows what? May I ask," Charlotte inquired, crossing her arms and frowning. Francis smirked.

"I know about you and Anthony," Francis declared. Charlotte's eyes went wide, and she went pale. Her anger quickly turned to Benedict, and she ran at him.

"Pardon you?" she questioned, glaring at Benedict. He smirked slyly and began to back away as Francis held Charlotte around her waist to restrain her.

"Oh no you don't, sister," Francis said, dragging her back. She calmed down slightly, but Benedict was just about to explain when Charlotte's patience snapped.

"You complete imbecile, do you know this could ruin me? I am engaged." With that, she stormed away, leaving Benedict and Francis gobsmacked.

"Charlotte!" Francis called after her. "I would never even consider telling our brother, you must know that!" Charlotte ignored his pleas, needing to find Anthony to discuss who else might know of their relations.

Charlotte hurried across the hall and down the stairs to where Anthony was, in his office. It was about 9 pm now, and she could hear voices from the office. Not wanting to intrude, she halted at the door and listened. Inside, Lady Bridgerton was engaged in a heated conversation with her son. Charlotte's curiosity got the better of her as she leaned close to a crack in the door to listen.

"Do not make this any more difficult than it already is!" Anthony pleaded.

"I wish to know something, Anthony," Violet began. "Tonight, when you leave this study that you continue to keep at your family home," her voice was harsh and cold, "are you to return to your bachelor lodgings across the square? Or 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?" Violet paused just long enough for Charlotte to hear Anthony take a slow breath, as if he was struggling to.

Charlotte quickly turned away from the door, creating a small knock against it as her hand left the panel. She needed a moment to process. Hastily, she pushed her way through the entrance of the house and took a deep breath before hurling into a nearby bush.

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. The hurt Anthony had caused her was devastating, but as she pondered over their once-growing relationship—the intimacy they had shared, the secret glances, the slight remarks—her despair soon morphed into disdain.