Letting You In [Bridgerton]

Chapter 1

1

Aubrey Hall
Family seat of the Viscount Bridgerton
Kent, England
May 1814

The Dowager Viscountess Lady Violet Bridgerton carefully folded another chemise and laid it on the neat stack at the foot of the bed. The bed. Not her bed. She smiled, a quiet glow of contentment surrounding her heart. The last time she'd felt like this, Edmund had-a flash of something in her periphery made her pause, her breath catching softly. She knew-she knew-he wasn't there. But oh, it would be so easy to imagine him, pressed just there, radiating warmth against her back, his breath brushing the nape of her neck...

RAP! Rap rap rap-

Violet's eyes flew open, and she sighed. Anthony. What was it now?

"Mother?"

She could hear her eldest son's rough half-whisper through the door, the brush of fabric against wood, and she imagined him leaning closer, as his voice became low and urgent.

"Mother? May I enter? Please, I must speak with you!"

"Anthony!" Benedict called, and Violet sighed. Her second son was apparently shouting while hurrying down the hall. Violet looked upward. Give me patience! Benedict thumped closer. "Anthony, wait!"

"Stop. Shouting!" Anthony growled back, still against the door. "Do you want to bring the whole household-!"

"But I was just-"

Violet opened the door and stood back to let Anthony stumble in, with Benedict close on his heels.

"-teasing," Benedict protested, pulling up short at the sight of his mother's expression. He shot her one of his irresistible crooked smiles, knowing full well she couldn't resist it, and she relented, barely fighting to keep an answering smile off her own face. His eyes twinkled with unrepressed mirth.

Anthony, by contrast, was a taut ball of trembling tension, his eyes wide and his expression panicked. She sobered and put a calming hand on his forearm. "What is it, dearest? Surely you're not having second thoughts."

"'Second'-" His eyes flashed, and now it was with anger. "Whyever would I be having second thoughts? I've wanted nothing more for months now, ever since I first laid eyes on that infernal woman!"

"Of course," Violet said soothingly, once again fighting a smile at the way he described the woman he was to wed in only three hours' time. "What has Miss Sharma done now?"

Behind him, Benedict gave a most ungentlemanly snort.

"She hasn't-" Anthony spun, shooting a glare at Benedict, whose expression by then was the very picture of innocence. Anthony straightened his shoulders and tugged his waistcoat firmly into place. His nostrils flared as he breathed. Visibly calming himself, he lifted his chin, his jaw working, and turned back to Violet with careful deliberation. "Miss Sharma has done nothing untoward, Mother."

"He's afraid she's going to leave him at the altar, too," Benedict choked out.

Violet saw real panic in Anthony's eyes. She shifted her gaze to her second son. "Out."

"But I was just-" Benedict protested. At the look in her eyes, he sobered. "Oh, all right." He turned to step out of the room, then twisted to look back, his hand on the doorknob, and opened his mouth to aim a parting shot at his older brother, but Violet glared him into silence. With a respectful nod to her and an affectionate look at the back of his brother's head that Anthony missed entirely, Benedict retreated.