"Whyever can you not listen to me?"
"Because, husband dearest," you began, drawling out the words with a new onset of determination to get out of bed with a swollen stomach that was equivalent to the size of a watermelon. "You do not in fact, own me."
Your lungs constructed and you fought your hardest not to breath out and let your husband know you were tired already. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and swatted Anthony's awaiting hands away.
"I am fully," Anthony flinched as you stood on your feet and swayed, arms out like a bird. "Fully aware my love, that I do not own you."
"Lovely." You smiled in delight, "I am so pleased that we had arrived to this conclusion."
"As always," Anthony's words wavered, sarcasm toning his baritone, "We are such a fine pair."
"You are dismissed Anthony," you said nonchalantly just as you pulled the apron over your growing body. It was all in good humor, your behavior, as you didn't really wish for him to leave you completely to the hands of yourself dearest. Though still, his mother hen behavior and constant dotting was worrying the staff. His mother thought it's fitting for a husband to be that way (she was beyond proud of Anthony), but perhaps she had forgotten the man she birthed. "You may do as you please."
"I wish to be with you woman!" He exclaimed urgently, linking his big arm through yours before you could blink. "What if something were to happen in my absence?"
"Then you shall run to my rescue no matter where you are," you told him simply, but stopped when you were just outside your door and his body was still rigid. Twisting your body until you faced him, you got as close as you could with your obstacle stomach between you. "But that will not happen Anthony."
His hands were slightly twitching, and he looked shaken up with fear. You grabbed both of his hands in yours and placed them on the round curve. He looked mesmerized, so fascinated by the female autonomy it made you stifle a laugh. "When this child decides to grace this world with its presence, you will be there, my love. Have no fear in that."
There were women - your friends - that were confided to their beds, twisted in an unnatural way, until the remains of their pregnancy carried out. No matter how healthy you looked, and no matter how much he adored you, a part of Anthony wanted you that way. Tucked in and safe until then baby came.
That next thing you did was kiss him fiercely. A soundless reminder that he was going to be there every step of the way and nothing were to happen. "All will be alright. Now let us go."
***
"I believe it's quite alright."
"Alright? My lady, your paint is most wonderful!"
"Very pretty."
"I agree."
You regarded the screen before you: a multitude of , scattered around the blank page smartly so they created what one would call one's masterpiece. They framed your wide garden and the entertaining fields before it. In the corner of the painting was the dark figure of your husband - a man previewed to be the vicious viscount. You painted a gun to his hand, that must have been the reason he appeared to be so mysterious. He was dangerous as he stood straight on the field.
Was.
You sighed. Now was his present and now said and showed that he is a dotting husband that softened and bore one to death. Quite literally.
"He still he has some spark in him." You mused, tilting your head to figure it out as if the damp, black blob of color really was the flesh of your husband. You lived for who he became, but your heart still pulled at the sight of his rake nature. "He could not have gone soft."
YOU ARE READING
Bridgerton [x Reader]
FanfictionA series of Bridgerton themed one shots from my Tumblr account (+exclusive content for Wattpad only). Stories range from 1,000 to 3,000 (at most) words and are fairly easy reads. Ideas behind them go to my Tumblr followers. A regency dictionary can...