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♛❞
The wedding reception was most beautiful; the magnific white cake at the center of the room, tables of sweet and savoury delicacies, the pure white blossom decorations complementing the accented walls, musicians strumming in the background, and the environment -in simple words- just delightful. However, it would have been adequate if a particular individual would refrain from burning their eyes behind my head.
"I still cannot believe it," Alice wonders, bright gazes still wide open with lips ajar, "you truly were the missing Grand Duchess. I feared something alarming occurred when I discovered the bakery and your home was under surveillance by bow street runners."
"Truthfully, I am more concerned regarding her vulgar vocabulary in the presence of all these people," Will laughs at his own comment, Alice joining his laughter soon after while I pout at their playful jabs.
"Oh, believe me when I say this lovely quality of mine is all the results of genetics," I hush as I cup my hand around my mouth, "there is not a single moment where my brother and father do not swear when speaking. And my mother, oh gosh, my dear old mother swears like a sailor behind closed doors. Out of all of them, I have the most virginal verbiage."
"I can vouch for that statement," Simon chimes with a subtle grin, the ends of his lips lifted ever so slightly.
My vision wanders to the newlywed Duke's physique, his expression as grim as the commencement of their wedding in the church. Simon Basset invited me to his wedding, hence why I was seated with the Mondrich couple and Lady Danbury, which definitely peaked the recently Daphne Basset's interest. It was no surprise the rest of my family was not present as they were particularly familiar with Anthony rather than the entire household, whereas the most my family had exchanged speeches with Simon was when they arrived to retrieve me from that woman. The wedding invitation had initially astonished my family, of course, not having expected myself to be so friendly with the Duke of Hastings— it was all shortly explained through some storytelling.
As joyful as the day should be, the married couple was anything but happy; their countenances were more fit for a funeral instead. I assume it is due to the unexpected change in the duel's action. Though I prefer not to question anything regarding this duel— I am rather thankful neither of the dafted gentlemen was seriously harmed from it.
I redirected my focus away from my mingling companions and onto Anthony, only to find his attention on Daphne, speaking to her until she hurriedly departed from him and ran upstairs. I grew worried at the sight of her unexpected departure, glancing at the eldest Bridgerton for a fleeting moment before looking up to Simon -who was already scrutinizing the now empty staircase- in query, "well? Go tend your wife."
"I-I cannot," only he responded as the Mondrichs drowned in their own conversation, providing Simon and me with the small privacy we favour.
"Simon, I do not know what happened on the day of the duel, nor do I want to know," I sigh in exasperation, "but she is now your wife. And she is clearly in distress—"
"I am the cause of this distress. Daphne did not want to marry me."
"It appears our heart-to-heart conversation is long overdue," I shook my head and grasped his forearm, "Come now, I need to comprehend what is transpiring in that foolish mind of yours."
"And where exactly are you taking me?" he asks as I drag him towards a considerably familiar room.
"Anthony's office, of course."
"Must I ask how you know where it is?"
"You truly believe Anthony had not already had his way with me on his desk?" I replied with a cheeky smirk as I closed the doors shut, "my, you are quite the innocent, aren't you."
He silently rolls his eyes at me before falling on one of the sofas, leaning his head against his fisted hand with his legs crossed, "What are you hoping to gain from this heart-to-heart conversation."
"A better understanding of your emotions," I say as I settle onto the sofa directly opposite Simon, "you love Daphne, and she loves you—"
"Daphne does not love me," he harshly interrupts, pressing his face against his knuckles, his breath shortening as he continues, "she agreed to marry to cease the duel even when I cannot provide her with the life she deserves."
"What kind of life?"
"A life where she can conceive her own babies."
"What are you saying? Have you suddenly forgotten how sex works?"
"I made a vow to my father on his deathbed," eyebrows scrunched, his voice becoming rugged at the mere of him, "to never sire an heir for the Hastings line."
Is that all?
"Simon," I say softly, "take a moment to think now."
The Duke looks up to me in question as I speak, "you have already devastated your father on his own deathbed. He is dead, and he should not be the reason for your and Daphne's unhappiness. Now you have the opportunity to have children of your own and nurture them the way your father neglected."
"It is not as simple, Vasilia. Daphne does not love—"
"You have never been so wrong, Simon," I let out a frustrated sigh, "I have seen the way Daphne looks at you; on the night of Lady Trowbridge's party, the wedding, and even now. They were all gazes of longing. With how you are behaving, she surely believes you despise her!"
"Nevertheless, I cannot give her children."
"Cannot is not equivalent to will not. Is Daphne at the very least aware of the reasoning for your reluctance to have children."
He clicks his tongue and looks away from me, "No."
"Of course, you did not. I almost forgot how disappointing the brainwork of men is," I frown at him, genuinely dissatisfied by how little knowledge he had given the poor woman. Simon does not comment, and silence looms in the room. I shook my head as I picked on my nail and let out another deep sigh, "I hope you understand what you are doing. It is better you tell her first, or it will destroy her if she uncovers all this."
"I also see you as a brother, Simon. I will forever advise you what I believe is best for you."
All I receive in response is a short glance and muted nod.
