[2] The Duchess of Kent and Strathearn | B. Bridgerton

Chapter 10

Fear & Uncertainty

Kensington Palace, London

The Duke of Kent and Strathearn braced himself for his inaugural day at the Royal Academy of Arts, a swirl of emotions enveloping him. While he brimmed with excitement at the prospect of joining the esteemed institution, a pang of longing tugged at his heartstrings, knowing his newborn son was in the care of his wife, Charlotte, as they journeyed to Buckingham House. There, she would proudly present their newest addition to both the Queen and the Prince Regent, leaving the Duke torn between his familial duties and his aspirations at the academy.

"Brother," he turned around and saw his older brother walking towards him. "Going out so soon? How's my godson?"

"If you were coming to see him, I regret to inform you that you just missed him, and Char," Benedict explained. "It seems the Queen required an introduction to her only grandchild straight away."

"Understandable," the Viscount nodded. "But was not Charlotte supposed to be on bedrest?"

"Indeed," he scoffed. "Apparently, as long as she is sitting down, she can do anything she pleases. So, she is being moved by a chair."

"A chair?" Anthony frowned.

"Men are literally lifting her above their heads, while she is sitting on the chair, and they move her around," Benedict chuckled. "Oh, she is beyond furious, feeling as if she's being auctioned like a horse."

"And what did you tell her?" He wondered.

"I told her she looks like Cleopatra," he bit his lip. "Then she proceeded to explain how Egypt's political relationship with the United Kingdom was largely characterized by British economic and strategic interests in the region."

"She never changes, our Char," the Viscount chuckled too, then sighed. "Then I'll leave you to it."

"Wait," his brother frowned in confusion. "Why exactly did you come in the first place?"

"I– I had come to ask you for your permission to borrow your wife," the Viscount responded, earning a confused glare from his brother. "Believe it or not, it was...entirely necessary."

"I– I mean, I don't see why you can't do that," the Duke raised an eyebrow. "Yet I do wonder why you have asked for my permission."

"I need her by my side for...emotional support," he explained. "And I simply didn't want for my intentions of her company to be...misunderstood."

"She is my wife, Anthony, the mother of my child... She's mine in every way possible. Truth be told, I trust her to be alone with any man because I know her heart calls my name as mine screams hers," Benedict spoke with sincerity and confidence, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though, I do want to know the reason for so much need of her emotional support."

"I have a private audience with the Queen, Lady Danbury and the Sharmas," he explained, and a snort escaped his brother's lips. "That's not funny."

"Bloody hell. Under those circumstances you will certainly need my wife," Benedict chuckled. "Charlotte's presence radiates the emotional support you will need. And, she will most probably scold her mother on going easy on you."

"I only hope to get out of there alive," he muttered before sighing in relief. "Thank you for understanding, Brother."

"Of course I understand, the Queen is my mother-in-law," he smirked. "May God have mercy on your soul."

With a playful glint in his eyes, the Viscount shot a teasing glare at his brother, shaking his head in mock disapproval. With a grin, he turned and strode away, exiting the grand halls of the palace and making his way towards his waiting coach, destined for Buckingham House.