bridgerton imagines.

the woman from wales: anthony bridgerton.

anthony bridgerton is a man of unassuming nature,
but he is absolutely tired of hearing about this woman from wales.
there is no amount of beauty that could warrant this kind of talk,
not even if she were a queen.
it is tiresome to hear about this woman and her charm,
to hear of her indescribable beauty,
to hear every man in this town talk of courting her.
well,
if anthony bridgerton has anything to say about it,
it is this:
he will have nothing to do with y/n l/n.
should she cross his path,
he will of course do the gentlemanly thing and greet her.
but aside from that,
there will be no conversation and especially no courting.
he has already heard her names too many times before her arrival.
anthony can only imagine how much worse it will be when she actually arrives.
the day comes sooner rather than later,
much to anthony's misfortune,
and he cannot seem to escape her name.
everywhere he goes,
there is an utterance in the air of the girl from wales.

"she is positively gorgeous."
"i heard she's very intelligent. maybe too intelligent."
"have you seen her graceful gait? she's perfect."

all anthony can do is roll his eyes.
what has this woman done to bewitch an entire community the way she has?
how deep do her pockets run to be able to encourage such positive talk?
it is only when anthony bridgerton sees y/n l/n for the very first time,
after so long of only hearing about her,
that he understands.
the trivial gossip amounts to nothing now that she is here,
standing just mere inches away from his undeserving gaze.
insurmountable belief overcomes anthony bridgerton at this moment.
he has never given much thought to god until now.
who else could be responsible for creating this divine woman?
it is not merely the silk against her skin,
or the shine of her smile,
but it is also her poise.
the way she seemingly floats across the ground when she walks.
the way she greets everyone,
even to those most unworthy of her attention.
she never stops smiling that winning smile.
anthony now understands why everyone spoke of her in such high praise.
who would dare speak harshly of one of gods angels?
if he hadn't sworn himself to stay away,
anthony might have done what the rest of the unmarried men did and greeted her with pleasantries,
with compliments,
and maybe even with diamonds.
anything to keep her gaze on him.
anthony turns away from the wicked girl and her irresistible existence,
but only slams into the body of his younger brother.
"well, brother? aren't you going to greet the princess of wales?"
"princess? she is a princess?"
benedict laughs then shakes his head.
"not formally, no. but she might as well be, the way word of her beauty seem to travel across continents."
anthony hesitates,
but decides to follow his brothers gaze back to the girl.
she stands amidst conversation,
smiling ever so gently.
"she is beautiful,"
benedict admits.
"what are you waiting on?"
anthony shakes his head to answer,
"no need to bother her with my company when she has plenty to entertain her."
"i think someone is intimidated,"
benedict sings lowly,
clapping a hand onto his older brothers shoulder. "not to fret. should you decide to woo her, i have the utmost confidence that you will succeed over the rest of these dimwits."
the thunderous laugh of benedict carries way to where y/n currently stands,
bringing her attention to the two bridgerton boys.
her eyes lock with anthony's and suddenly,
this heart of his finds no steady pace.
it beats so wildly,
it nearly aches.
y/n smiles softly at anthony to greet him,
forcing him to the very same.
he said he would remain a gentleman in his vow to stay away from her.
though his smile is firm and his nod towards her is curt,
he has acknowledged her all the same.
as though y/n can sense his indifference towards her,
he watches as the corners of her lips turn down ever so slightly.
if he had not been so mesmerized
he might not have seen this change in expression.
though it oddly pains him,
it is better she deem him unworthy now.
it is better for the both of them.
"i hear wedding bells,"
benedict teases beneath his breath.
it is the last thing anthony hears before he shoulders past his brother,
far away from the iridescent girl who he cannot have.
***
anthony knows it is simply his own pride that is preventing him from asking of an audience with y/n l/n.
at least it is easier to blame his pride than to admit that he feels inconsequential near y/n and the competition that ranges throughout the continents.
what could he offer that she has not heard before?
how many diamonds could be mine with his own hands that, still, would not be enough?
how many compliments could he pay that she has not grown accustomed to?
anthony has never been a man of romantic gesture nor a man of great words,
it is why he is stuck pining for this woman's attention.
anthony finds the nearest drink he can down after seeing y/n dance the night away with men who have much more to offer than anthony could ever dream of.
having his back turn left him with his guard down.
he cannot escape y/n now that she has found him.
"careful, mr bridgerton. too many drinks and i fear we'll have to carry you out of here."
y/n stands before him,
laden with twinkling diamonds fitted into a beautiful dress anthony wishes he could take off of her.
shaking away the abrupt, imprudent thought,
anthony then offers her a tight smile.
"not to worry. that's what i have two younger brothers for."
y/n laughs something harmonious,
stealing the breath from this man's lungs.
she says nothing more,
only lets her eyes gaze upon the table of food.
that is all?
anthony thinks to himself.
she has breached the distance he put between them to tease him about his indulgence?
the indulgence he allowed himself since he cannot have her?
y/n finds his attention again and this time,
knots her eyebrows together in confusion.
"i'm—i'm sorry if i offended you, viscount. i was only teasing, but i overstepped."
"why do you assume im offended?"
y/n tilts her head as though this new perspective will give her leeway to understanding his whiplash of emotions.
"you are staring at me like you might...like you might hate me. i only assumed."
anthony forces his eyes to soften as he looks upon her.
she is so gorgeous,
anthony thinks he might hate her for it after all.
"i apologize. it's been a long night but i can assure you, i do not hate you."
"but you do not like me either,"
she states.
anthony shrugs,
turning back to the table to pick at the food.
"does it matter? every man in this country likes you. they would take your hand without hesitation if you chose them. what would it matter if one simple man does not like you?"
y/n smiles when he hardly expects it.
"it would not matter. but you are no simple man, mr bridgerton. i came here hoping you would like to become friends, but if you are intent on disdaining me, so be it."
before anthony can ask her to clarify what she meant or to ask further questions,
y/n glides away on light feet,
leaving him with only a smile and the remnants of her scent.
anthony would have followed her,
had her hand and attention not been taken away by yet another suitor.
so anthony downs one last drink and leaves for his home.