When Colin Bridgerton embarks on his travels to Paris, he stumbles across a little more than site seeing after his lodging double booked. What tragic romance will he find himself in? Read London Boy to find out
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COLIN BRIDGERTON has dedicated his year to travelling the world. Seeing beyond London, the scandals of Whistledown, and of course, the talk of the ton about Marina and him.
This was the time to clear his mind, be more than just a pretty Bridgerton. But the definition of his more may of took a turn towards romance.
—
It was late August when the second youngest Bridgerton boy had arrived in France. Just as the marriage market was ending in London. He needed a break from all things scandalous after his endeavours with Miss Thompson. Travelling was just the diversion he needed.
A carriage dropped the man right off in front of an old brick building. Cement chipping itself away on the walls as vines danced up them. It was beautiful really, tender love treading each brick.
"Name?" A sour tone laced an elder man's voice, tipping his thin glasses down the bridge of his nose. He glanced over them to peer at the Bridgerton boy. "Colin... Bridgerton" he cleared his throat, ineptly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
The man turned his back, shuffling through parchment within the cabinets behind him, humming to himself. "Bridgerton, Bridgerton" he mumbled under his breath.
"I'm afraid we have double booked" a dry palm placing two papers down upon the old wooden desk. "You, as well as Miss Da Silva and her seven children" he nodded to a mother on a sofa in the corner, attempting to tame her children.
With a sigh he nodded, there was no point to arguing, he was a refined man. And as refined men do, they give up their spot for ladies. "Thank you anyways" he nodded towards the man before trudging out of the lodge, luggage following behind.
The carriage that had dropped him off moments ago had been gone now, neither way down the street was it spotted. "Great" Colin huffed, picking a direction to walk in. A possible lodging found in sight on his journey.
"Bread! Get your fresh bread!" A boy cheered, waving down each passer by towards his families bakery. It was a quaint town, unlike the familiar one he called home. It was warn in, loved. The street was a strip of family owned businesses, this was one of his favourite sights of travelling. The hardworking men and women coming together, passion going into their work to provide for themselves. It was refreshing for that matter.
"A flower for you my good sir?" A delicate voice chimed, out stretching a blue floral to the man. "Oh, I'm good, thank you" he nodded kindly. "They bring new beginnings it's said" she prodded once more, stopping Colin in his tracks.
"Do they?" A thin smile tugging at the corner of her lips, noticing she had caught the other's attention. A soft nod following, "they do, Anemone" "Pardon?" Eyebrows laced together at the confusion of the words she just muttered.
A light laugh rolling off her lips. "Anemone, the flowers, sir" she pressed it to his chest, naturally he took it into his grasp. "They quite match your eyes" the woman added.
"I dare say you're correct!" He agreed, twirling the stem. "As I am always" she joked back. "Your name?" She lowered her head. "Where are my manners!" He apologized. "I am Colin Bridgerton. And you are?" "Lydia Fitzwilliam" Colin could swear her eyes sheened over with a sparkle. A beat of silence held between the two.
"Well, Mr. Bridgerton. I can't help but notice your accent, are you a traveller?" His accent was posh in comparison to hers, a French one clinging to each syllable that left Lydia's lips. "You've caught me" he raised a hand, playfully.
"Where are you residing?" The woman asked, walking along to continue her task she had done before. A metal can clutched in her hand as she watered the flowers. "Actually, I'm afraid I'm homeless at this point" a palm rubbed the back of his neck. "Homeless?" She repeated, a puzzled look meeting his.
"The lodge down the street double booked me, frankly that lady looked as though she needed it more than I do" he chuckled. "Oh, that bugger! No refund either?" Butted in an elderly woman. She smelt of fresh daises, one pinned to her cardigan. "I'm afraid not" he shook his head, now being down 10 pounds.
"His business is a sham, always taking advantage of travellers like you" she waved a hand, passionate about the scammer. "People like him are who create a bad name for our town" the woman clicked her tongue.
"Same back home, the poor Americans" Colin shook his head, reminiscing on all the tourists crowding the streets of downtown London. Scam after scam to the unexpected.
"Well, how abouts you spend the night with us?" The elderly lady suggested, palms grabbing Colin's much larger ones. "Grandmama!" Eyes widened as Lydia butt in. Her tone was enough to know Colin was unwanted by the girl.
"Oh- well that's far too nice, no no it's okay" he shook his head, taking a step back. A place for the night to stay sounded more than okay to him, but he wished to fulfill Lydia's distaste for the idea.
"Oh don't mind Lyds, you'd think she had an allergy towards men" the woman laughed. "She's set up for the life of a spinster at this point".
Lydia choked, the words of her grandmother catching her off guard. The male launched forward. "Are you alright?" Worrying covering his face as she coughed in embarrassment. "I'm- I'm alright" the blonde nodded, hand placed to her chest. "Grandmama is right, you should stay" Lydia nodded forward, a thin smile stretched onto her face.
She wanted to prove that old woman wrong, she was not destined to be a lonely old spinster.
The thing was, growing up with seven siblings in which four were girls, Colin knew all too well a false smile from a true one. The way the corners of their lips curled in joy vs tugged in force. The crinkle under their eyes as their cheeks ache. Both weren't present upon Miss Fitzwilliams face. However, she insisted. And Colin needed a place to stay.
"Very well, where do you live?" He pressed down his button up, running his fingers along each wrinkle in attempt to smoothen them.
"Just on Mangers Grove" her delivery was always so soft, ringing just above a whisper.
A/N: I am so excited for this novel, I have so much passion for it! You all are in for some TRAAAAAGIC love right here because you BET Im not writing a novel unless it ends in tears!
