Only Hope | Anthony Bridgeton

Questioned

Anthony felt the dice rattling in his hands and could feel the effects of the alcohol he had liberally imbibed upon entering his club. He needed this, a distraction.

"Here we go, here we go. Come on." He wished aloud as he rolled the dice from his hands. 

They were in his favor. All the men who had crowded around it laughed and cheered. 

"Me again." He announced.

"Indeed. I am inclined to investigate the providence of such lucky dice." Lord Featherington commented with bitterness in his tone. 

"Did they not land the same way when you were casting, Featherington? Perhaps the common element is you. Might it be best to show some restraint?" Simon came to Anthony's defense. 

"Restraint, I fear, is not among Lord Featherington's skills." Anthony laughed as he walked away with his money. 

"I seem to have done it, Bridgerton." Simon followed him.

"Done what?" He made his way towards the chairs. 

"Proved you remain capable of laughing again in my presence." 

"You cannot fault me for being doubtful of your intentions." 

Simon downed the rest of his drink, then said, "Indeed I can. For all the mischief you have witnessed me make, you would also have known I would never make a fool of a lady, and certainly not one such as your sister." 

Anthony sat down and eyed him, thinking of how he might have made a fool of one himself. 

"You confound me. You are respectful, and yet I know you have no intention of marriage. Has that changed?" 

"I cannot claim so." Simon replied. 

"Then whatever could your intentions be?" He fired the question as if from a gun.

"Respectful. Might we leave it there?" Simon ended the conversation. "What about you? You still running from the yoke?" He shifted the attention off of him. 

"That is a more complicated matter." Anthony moved to pour more brandy. 

"Aha! I knew there was something with the Bentley girl." The Duke smiled into his own glass. 

"How did you--?" He turned to look at his friend in confusion. 

"Oh please, Bridgerton, you've always been a terrible secret keeper." He clapped his shoulder. "But if you care for her then you have my congratulations." 

"Well, as I said, it is more complicated than that." He took a large swig from his glass. 

"But you do care for her?" 

Antony thought for a moment, but it didn't take long for him to answer with finality. 

"Yes, yes I do." 

Just then, the doors to the club opened and several women of the night entered to whistles and cheers. Amongst them was a face Anthony recognized: Sienna. What was strange is that he thought he would have felt more. Maybe jealousy or anger at her appearance. But he didn't. If anything he felt that it was simply a sign he should go home. 

He excused himself from the Duke's company and left, headed back to his family home to complete the bookings he had started earlier that evening. 

He made it there in almost no time and had just set his jacket on a chair inside his father's study when he heard the floorboards creak in the hallway. This was strange, considering no servants should be up at this time. He left the study and spotted Daphne exiting her bedroom and heading for the stairs.

"Sister? Whatever are you doing?" He interrupted. 

He appeared to have startled her for she breathed a sigh of relief when she turned and him.  

"I could not sleep. I thought a bit of warm milk might help matters." She explained. 

"Well should I ring for a servant?" He suggested. 

"No. No, do not wake them." She paused for a minute, then asked, "would you like to join me?"

Surprised at this, since he thought she wasn't too happy with him, he agreed and they made their way down to the kitchen. Once there, they procured the milk from the icebox and stood in front of the stove.

Both seemed to be waiting for the other. In truth, neither knew the workings of the contraption. 

"Well we should light it." Daphne suggested. 

"Excellent idea." He agreed.     

"Well... go on." She coaxed. 

"Me?" 

"Well I should not know how to do it." 

"And you believe I should?" 

Several more moments passed of them simply staring at the stove. 

Finally, Daphne suggested, "Cold milk then."

"Most refreshing given the heat." Anthony recovered. 

She passed him a jar and he took a swig as they sat on counters opposite each other.

"Can I ask you a question, Brother?" She began. 

"So long as it has nothing to do with the inner workings of... that thing." He chuckled. 

"Two questions actually. The first is a question about Abigail." 

"Oh not you too, Daph." He groaned. 

"I can see you care for her. And not to be protective, but the last I checked you weren't ever planning on marrying. So, has that changed or are you simply having her on?" She questioned, seriously. 

"No. I am not." He answered almost immediately. "I... I would never make a fool of her. I just, I cannot read her mind and there is simply a communication blockage at the moment... I hope." He muttered the last part more to himself. 

"How did you even know?" He asked out of curiosity. 

"You two are not subtle about your glances across the ballroom. And I'd like to think I'm not stupid." She added. 

"You certainly are not." He laughed. "What was your second question?" 

She hesitated for a moment then said, "It is about the Duke." 

Anthony let out a long sigh, he had a feeling this was going to be a slightly more awkward conversation.

(Ok this one pretty much only followed Anthony. But in my defense, it was what was next in the script... anyway hope you liked this!)