Masked Hearts: A Bridgerton Story

15. A Gamble

Benedict was already working on unsealing the envelope as the two men made their way into the same office they once occupied when discussing your compromising situation a few weeks ago.

He reads it aloud:

Keeping true to my word, I had researched further into the manufacturer of that pocket knife and concluded that it came from a now shut-down carpentry shop called Avalon and Son. It was owned by Alfred Avalon whom was married to Gertrude Avalon, together they shared a son, Malcom. Studying their financial files it had become clear to me that Alfred was obligated to sell their business in order to afford his wife's medicals. She passed in 1793.

Regards,

- D. Hastings, Simon Basset

"This explains nothing." Anthony shrugs, being quick to conclude their was no further useful information from the letter.

"But at least we have a name, and look. Hastings sent us their financial book. Perhaps he missed something." Anthony scoffed. "Hastings? Never. That man doesn't know when to stop with the details. I'm sure he went through it all thoroughly." Benedict was already skimming through their book, not paying his brother any mind.

"Anthony!" Kate's voice is heard from further beyond the door, beckoning her spouse to leave.

"Benedict, dear." Benedict looks up to see his mother placing her head between the gap of the door her eldest had just walked through. "I'm sorry, but I'm a little pre-occupied." Keeping his saddening gaze fixed onto the blurring numbers before him.

"Benedict, Are you alright?" It was his mother, he could not be mad at her for long. Even though her words stung as sharp as a bee when it came to her opinion on his betrothal to the princess but she's his mother.

For the first time since she'd walked in, he looks up at her, his eyes tinted red and tears lining his vision. "Oh, honey," Nothing breaks a mother's heart more than seeing her offspring in pain. Especially one like Benedict, the one who deserved none of this.

Her arms reaching out for him prompted him to place to book onto the table and reciprocating the embrace. "I'm so sorry. For everything. I want nothing more than your happiness." He only allowed one tear to fall into the fabric of his mothers dress before pulling away, forcing himself to reduce the emotion on his face.

"I do not care if she is a princess. If she is not suitable to make you content then she is not wanted, but," She pauses, noticing the small upward pull at the corner of the artists' lips. "this maiden, whoever she is, she makes you  quite happy doesn't she."

A simple nod could not suffice. He could never put it in to words on how exactly you made him feel.

"She's nothing less than incredible. I am honored to walk the same earth that she does." He shakes his slowly, feeling that still those words are not enough but he needed to accept he would never be able to verbalize it.

"What is her name, Benedict?"

"I cannot say, but I do hope I will be able to share soon."

--

"Ayesha, you have word." Making your way down the inconveniently large staircase towards Darius who held a small pile of mail in his hands.

"Who is it from?"

"Eloise Bridgerton? I did not know the two of you were aware of each other let alone writing each other." Your eyes widened. "Give me that." You snatched the envelope from his hand, "What's that?" Your mother asks as she gestures to the letter in your hands.

"Nothing-"

"Did you know Ayesha has befriended the second eldest Bridgerton daughter?" Her eyes widened as she made her way towards you, "Eloise? That's wonderful. I've grown quite fond of the Bridgerton's. Lady Danbury herself speaks of them to high esteem which is always an honour. I'm glad you're making some new friends."

Oh. You were actually quite please with your mother's response to the news, you were sure she'd somehow find a way to link the conversation back to—"She debuted last season If I recall, perhaps in good faith she may encourage you to do the same as well-"

You groan.

"Mama! Enough. I do not wish to debut today, tomorrow, or ever for that matter."

"I spoke to the Queen last night, Ayesha." Your head falls back with an even louder groan as Darius somehow managed to slip his way out of the conversation and out the door, and he left before you got the chance to warn him.

He cannot tell Anthony of your friendship with Eloise, alas he was already gone.

"And she was generous enough to let you debut as soon as next week, promising adequate prospects for you."

"I apologize if it puts you in a compromising position with the queen, but I am not interested." With that said, you headed back up to your room with your letter in hand.

To My Friend, A****A Russell,

You already smiled at her secrecy of her name. You suppose there was no reason for you to be so secretive about your name any longer, it didn't seem like that man who attacked you would be back any time soon.

As you continued to read her message your face became hot and suddenly your felt your stomach begin to twist. She was inviting you to the Bridgerton manner for dinner. The gesture was kind and though sincere, you're sure. But how could you. Benedict would be present, but alas, if you didn't want her to suspect anything then you would show up.

--

"Russell. Always a pleasure." The Viscount and the Earl have a seat at White's, falling into natural conversation for 20 of the proceeding minutes before their families were brought up. "Speaking of which, I had no idea that my own sister was familiar with yours. A small world." Darius says, causing the Viscounts interests to pique.

"Really? Which one? Daphne or Eloise?" Anthony sits up, "Well considering one lives kilometres a way in a dukedom how about you take a shot in the dark, Viscount?" Darius too, sits up, deciding to pour themselves a shot of whiskey.

"Can you ever let the sarcasm go?" Anthony retorts.

"Have a look over there, poor bastards don't have a clue what they're doing." Darius downs his shot and juts his head over the the gambling table where three men played with obvious confusion. "Perhaps we should show them how it's done." Darius grins wickedly at the Bridgerton's proposal before beginning to make his way over.

"But not without these." Anthony slaps the gloves into Darius' stomach gently to stop him, "Lucky gambling gloves, never lost a game with them on." The earl rolls his eyes, "Do you truly believe that?" The elder shrugs, "Doesn't hurt to have a little faith."

"Come on."