The Viscount Who Loved Me {Dreamnotfound}

Victory

"Miss Patridge requires large amounts of sugar for her morning tea," Lady Puffy rants as she walks down the stairs, maids close on her tail as she directs them. "And Lord Abernathy, he will refuse to eat any meat that is not well-cooked, while Lady Abernathy will only consume her meat bloody, I am told," she chuckles at the juxtaposition. "And make sure you put an extra blanket on Lord Weston's bed. I hear he feels the cold,"

"The roses and carnations have arrived, ma'am," a maid says as she walks up to the group.

"You may wish to add in lilac, Mama," Karl voices from behind. "Symbolic of first love. And perhaps make the bouquets even bigger,"

"I have taught you well," Lady Puffy tells him proudly.

"If there is truly to be a proposal before this ball or the week is out," Karl tells her. "Anthony will need all the help he can get,"

Dream reaches for a shiny red apple in the fruit bowl in front of where he lounges on the couch, taking a large bite from it. "I was painting that!" Quackity scolds.

"Do you think all of this was a mistake?" Dream asks munching on the crisp food, ignoring his brother's protests. "This business of inviting the Davidson's out early? It has made the whole affair so fraught with difficulty,"

"The whole marriage-mart business seems entirely too difficult to me," Quackity mumbles. "But if one must participate in it," he continues, walking to the window and opening it widely. "Why not do it in the fresh air?"

"Brother? Is it the sting?"

"What?" George asks, whipping his head around to see his brother standing in the door way of the room. "Whatever do you mean?" He asks, sitting up straight where he is curled up, wrapped in blankets next to the window as he reads.

"Is it still bothering you?" Fundy asks walking fully into the room to sit in front of where George. "It seems ever since the awful creature pricked you, you've been keeping to yourself,"

"No. No, not at all, Fund," George comforts letting out a gentle laugh before clearing his throat, shaking away his previous thoughts. "And, uh, how are you? Are you... Are you still feeling upset by the viscount's lack of action?"

The boy lets out a deep sigh. "His mind seems elsewhere lately. I thought I'd be announcing an engagement at tomorrow night's ball," he admits, a muted sorrow in his eyes.

"We return to Mayfair in a few days, where there will be many other suitors, as I told you," George comforts, grabbing his brother's hands gently.

"Suitors who will only suspect that there is something lacking in me when they discover the viscount is no longer interested," Fundy counters.

"Fund," George warns against the negative thinking.

"He is the one I want, George," Fundy tells him. The words making a lump rise in George's throat. "The viscount. His family, this home, the life he offers me. I've been thinking, and... I am now quite certain I know why he has not yet made his declaration. It is because of you," George goes rigid. Does he know? How could he possibly know? They were alone in that garden. George made sure of it. "You hate one another,"

"Hate is probably too strong a word," George says as he chuckles, rolling his eyes gently, relief flooding his body.

"It is clear from your exchanges with the viscount that he shares your feelings!" Fundy tells him. George knew what his brother meant. Then why did those words make him flush? "All this time, I thought I needed your help getting him to fall in love with me, but I have realised what I need is your help getting him to fall in love with you,"

"Fundy, I certainly can't..." George begins, any argument he had falling from his tongue, the idea of Dream falling in love with him making his face even more warm.