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"Huh, well, that's rather unexpected."
I scrutinize the Lady Whistledown article in hand, using my unattended hand to sip the warm brewed Hyson tea with a teaspoon of sweet honey— a new favourite of mine. My brother loudly snorts disorderly behind me with his arms folded loosely on each other while leaning onto my chair's backrest as he skims over the content of today's unexpected gossip with me. My gasp muffles as I nearly choke on my tea when my brother abruptly pushes his body, shaking my figure along with the loveseat, to which he snickers with a half-hearted remorseful shrug after noticing my glare and dripping chin.
"What are you doing?" I question as I wipe the tea with the back of my hand, eyeing my brother leisurely pace by the dressing room's double door with his pocket watch open on his palm.
"Waiting for your beloved to walk through this door," he replies, exaggerating his rolling eyes when uttering 'beloved' with a higher pitched voice.
I scoff at his silly behaviour, "Enough with that— And why would Anthony ever be coming now? I was not informed earlier of his arrival."
"To put it simply, dear precious sister, he is, without a doubt, upset. Very, very upset with his brother, Colin."
"Oh?"
"Indeed, he had no clue of this union between Colin and Marina, and I know this because he tells me practically everything. Thus, Anthony will be coming to me to vent his anger." He confidently explains, holding onto the door handle with one hand with bright eyes still strained on the ticking pocket watch as I observe him in amusement while leaning back comfortably into the plush creamy cushion. Momentarily, with an assured nod to himself, Matvey unlocks both doors simultaneously, revealing a bewildered, wide-eyed Anthony standing with his arm raised to knock on the rigid dressing room's entrance.
"Amazing, o magical soothsayer!" I let out a burst of surprised laughter, clapping aloud and proudly as my brother courtesies in extravagant fashion in my direction, further confusing the poor Bridgerton. The brunet shakes his head at our childish antics, a soft smile gracing his features, replacing his earlier baffled face.
"I presume you knew I would be coming," Anthony asks with a single brow raised, to which my blond brother nods with a toothy grin, "And how, may I ask? O, powerful soothsayer?"
"Skills and intuition, my brother," Matvey answered with a smirk before patting his friend's back while quietly articulating the following words, "I have also already read this morning's gossip."
Anthony groans in frustration, thumb and middle finger already pinched harshly into the corners of his eyes as he slumps beside me with Matvey following in toe and leaning his right leg up against the armchair beside his agonized companion. Silently, Anthony places his right hand over my left, playing and stroking my ring finger— a newly discovered habit he picked up when bitter or distressed. He sighs once more, and his head falls softly against the plush of the backrest, "neither of us was aware of their relationship. Mother had no word to say to either Colin or Miss Thompson. It was all too sudden! We had just wed Daphne, but another marriage this soon was not what we expected— it is too soon for Mother."
"It is why I had not proposed to you yet," Anthony further adds as he angles his head towards my way, charming eyes softening at the sight of me, "Believe me, my dearest, I would have loved to marry you the moment I saw you descending that staircase. However, my responsibility as Viscount of the household came first, finding Daphne a suitable husband."
"And more importantly," his grip on my ring finger tightens, his gaze glossing over my cheeks and lingering on my lips, "I wish to court you properly—"
"Ahem!"
I huff in irritation as I stare at my brother's appalled face, "Must you devastate our heartfelt moment so shortly?"
"I did not want you two forgetting I was still here, in this very room," was his only reasoning before murmuring, "and I wish not to see Anthony ravaging you either."
I immediately bounce off the sofa with warmth surging from my pale neck to the tip of my ears, fanning my face with my hands to ease the growing blush, "Goodness! Matvey!"
"Fine," he chuckles while standing from his position, throwing a heavy arm over my shoulder to squeeze my biceps teasingly, "I apologize for my crude words, sister. What should I ever do to seek your forgiveness?"
I quickly glance between him and Anthony as a thought comes to mind, "We can make dessert."
"Dessert?"
"Why, of course, dessert! Some sweetness made from our own hands ought to keep us occupied and lift our spirits," I express, placing both hands on my hips, "I presume you two gentlemen never set foot in a kitchen before, correct?"
"I, in fact, have," Anthony says triumphantly, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he slung his right leg over the other.
"Oh?" I glance up to the delighted Bridgerton in question, "And for what reason did you visit the kitchen?"
"Cold milk."
I blinked, "Cold milk."
"Cold milk," he repeats.
"Not— not warm milk?"
"I— no!" he immediately turns his head away, turning crimson lightly under the pointed gaze of myself and my brother, "Cold milk is rather refreshing..."
"I bet my arse you had no clue how to operate the stove—"
"—Even so! I had stepped foot inside the kitchen— once."
"Grabbing cold milk from the kitchen is no less different from a youth seizing cookies from the counter, Anthony." I express as the said adult grumbles under his breath, Matvey blatantly chortling while patting his friend's shoulder in reassurance. I sigh softly at their typical behaviour, similar to that of two spirited brothers, a close-knit relationship I would eternally treasure close to my heart.
And indeed, we had a delightful time. The gentlemen were rather excited to hold a private lesson with the Grand Duchesse herself, and despite being utterly clueless about basic cuisine instruments, they made it their mission to complete all the steps impeccably— as any man with dignity would.
It was not long before the Royal Chef and a few housemaids found us in the kitchen, and God bless their heavenly souls, they were most definitely not pleased nor relatively prepared to discover three fully grown adults covered head to bottom in chocolate mousse.
