emeralds and diamonds ♔ bridgerton

Part 12

dear readers,

the last week has given me much to write about. if much is about all the new love matches. the trip to aubrey hall always ends with a few beginning to plan weddings. the most extravagant, we hope, is our very own diamonds. yes, lady victoria howard will be married. but not to his highness, but to a bridgerton.

somehow the bridgerton's always end up marrying the seasons best, or their sisters. but there always seems to be a scandal; let's just hope our emerald knows better.

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"your parents are on their way vicky." anne said as she read through the letter.

benedict had proposed moments before i stepped into the black carriage with gold trimmings and a green jewel painted on the door. he ran out as i threw my smaller items onto the velvet cushion. there wasn't a piece of gold wrapped in a loop, just words; thoughts. "does their seriously have to be ceremony in both countries?"

it was an absurd thought, wasting so many golds on a few simple worlds; thoughts. and having to do it twice, with two different customs, two different dresses, two different groups of people. the list of twos could go on forever. "no, it's whatever you want." i had heard that enough as well. anne had said it, violet said it, daphne. who knew wedding planning could be such a bore?

"what i want is to see my husband." when i came back to london, i came back secretly just so i wouldn't have to deal with being invited to millions of dinners. one of them being the bridgerton's.

"invite them over then! unless you don't want to see mr. bridgerton for another sennight."

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"le blanc est vraiment ta couleur." delacroix mentioned as she slid the last buttons into place. she was saying how white suited me perfectly.

but seeing myself in this dress, it made it feel like it was all happening so soon. too soon. "madam delacroix am i making the wrong choice?" luckily enough there was nobody else in the small shop to hear my thoughts.

surely she had to been asked this before. she's been the modiste for years, she's had to have fit hundreds of girls into their dresses as they rambled on about how their making a wrong decision.

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madam delacroix had known benedict bridgerton. but she had known him in an other way. not in just a way that she fitted his sisters into dresses or made him new cufflinks.

she knew him in a way that made her stomach go into knots. yes, they were only a small fling. but to her it was so much more. soon enough she began to look forward to him sneaking in after painting. he would have small specs of red or yellow under his nails, but he didn't care. he didn't care because he was with her. she wasn't some perfect rich lady. she had her pros, but nothing to the comparison of the perfect emerald standing in front of her.

but one day he stopped showing up. it was a few months before victoria arrived and received the lady of the year crown. she desperately wanted to know why. why he stopped sneaking through the back entrance of her little shop. she could not just ask violet bridgerton why her son stopped wanting to give himself to her.

she had been asked this same question before. most brides were never sure on their suitor. well unless there was a scandal involved; then the girl never questioned anything. she always said "you'll make a great wife". since she had been the dressmaker for the girls since they were small girls. but she had barely known lady howard, so she couldn't judge her.

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"you could never make the wrong choice lady howard."

but i have, i have made wrong choices. everybody thinks i'm some perfect angel sent from the heavens, picked by the holy god himself. but i was no where near an angel.

but power felt so good. it felt just perfect. like everything else, there is a price and i was willing to pay anything for it. the feeling of knowing that everyone in the room was under my control.

and that is why i have done what i have done